Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
We start the meeting even though Ben’s late. It’ll be easy for him to catch up, plus he needs to show the girls their mock-ups. After an hour, I text him and ask him if he’s planning to show up, and of course, he doesn’t respond. Now, I’ve gone from hurt to pissed because he’s messing with my business. I tell the girls the logos will be emailed, and I’ll see them tomorrow for recording. Once they’re gone, I ask Debra to cancel the rest of my day and order an Uber to drive me out to Malibu.
I’m on edge the entire drive, and my anxiety increases tenfold when the driver pulls into my driveway. When I get into the house, I notice the amount of trash piled up. “What the fuck,” I mutter before yelling Ben’s name and storming through the house.
I find him in his office with his headphones on. I tap him on the shoulder, scaring the crap out of him. He glares at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Working. What does it look like?”
“Did you want to answer any of my texts? My calls? Or show up for the fucking meeting this morning?”
He frowns and rolls his eyes. He goes to put his headphones back on, but I yank them away. “Answer me!” I scream.
Ben stands and towers over me. His eyes seek something in mine, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. “What part of ‘I’m done’ wasn’t clear to you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m done, Elle. That means I’m not going to answer your calls. I’m not going to reply to your texts, and I’m not going to work. I. Am. Done!”
I blanch at his words and step back. It takes me a moment to realize the finality in his voice, but once I do, I nod. “Right.” I leave him in his office and head into our bedroom. It’s a mess. Clothes, food boxes, and beer bottles cover the floor, much like the rest of the house. I pull as much as I can from my closet, carry it out to my car, and pack up the stuff I’ll need in my office. I stop by the room where Ben’s working, but his back is to me. He’s angry, all because we haven’t set a wedding date.
“Ben,” I say his name loud enough for him to hear. He stops typing and turns slowly in his chair. His eyes are red and puffy, and there’s a sadness there, mixed with anger. “I’m going to head back into the city.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “There’s a good chance Noah’s heading to the Superbowl.”
“I don’t care,” he says.
“It’s Noah,” I point out. “You’re not going to be there for him?”
Ben hangs his head. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Elle.”
“I’m not doing anything, Ben. You are. I spent my entire vacation trying to get you to talk to me so we can figure this out, and you’ve ignored me.”
“It’s the only way.”
“No, it’s not,” I tell him. “We can fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix.”
“So that’s it, huh? You’re just going to toss the only family you have aside because I haven’t settled on a wedding date?”
Ben doesn’t say anything for a long time. “I’m going to look for an apartment or something. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”
I shake my head and place my hand over my stomach to curb the tremendous ache I feel. Our life together isn’t supposed to be this way. I pack as much as I can, and tiptoe back to Ben’s office. His head is down and the urge to go to him is great. I yearn to touch him, to soothe him, to fix what is happening, but I don’t know how. There is something else going on, something more than not setting a date, but he won’t talk to me. He leaves me no choice but to walk away for now.
3
ELLE
6 Weeks Later
The fanfare at the stadium is something I’ve never seen before. People tailgate. They’re throwing parties in the parking lot, with food, music, and games. Some have televisions set up and they’re watching the pregame. Each time I hear Noah’s name, I block out what the announcer says. I don’t care to hear whether or not they think the Pioneers should be in the Super Bowl or not. They’re here, and that is the only thing that matters. Win or lose, Noah’s dreams of making it to the big game have finally come true.
Nola and I walk around the parking lot, taking in the energetic atmosphere. I’ve been to concerts where the tailgating is a giant party, but not to this extent. Venues normally open the parking lot two, maybe three hours before a concert starts, unless it’s a festival. Still, I’d love to see 4225 West or Sinful Distraction have something like this.