Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he realized that I was trying to make a joke. “Too late,” he said. “You can’t hide anymore.”
Oddly enough, I didn’t even want to.
* * *
We spent the day playing with Etta and the puppy she’d begun to call hers. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so settled in one place. Our apartments and houses had always felt like a stopping point, never somewhere we would stay for a long time. Even my dad’s house had been temporary until I got on my feet again. Trevor’s house was different. It felt like a place we could spend our lives, somewhere Etta could paint her room whatever color she wanted and someday invite her friends for sleepovers.
I was happy. Genuinely content.
That’s why, after dinner had been cleared and Trevor had cuddled up with Etta on the couch, I put on my jacket and grabbed my car keys.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Trevor asked, teasingly reaching over the back of the couch to grab me.
“We’re really low on toilet paper,” I said with a grimace, making him laugh.
“I can go,” he said, moving like he was going to get off the couch.
“No, it’s fine.” I set my hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him. “It’s kind of exciting to go by myself for once.”
“Me go,” Etta said, popping up from where she’d been lying.
“Nah, we’ll let Mama go while we watch a movie,” Trevor replied, pulling her onto his lap.
“No, me go, too.”
“I think we have ice cream,” Trevor whispered, immediately quieting her protests.
“I’ll be back soon,” I murmured, sneaking out before Etta started whining again.
My stomach churned as I drove away from the house. I didn’t feel good about lying to Trevor, but I knew that if I’d told him where I was going he’d either try to stop me or want to come along. I loved that he felt so protective of us, but this was something I needed to do on my own.
I’d never been to Trevor’s parents’ house before, but I knew I could find it by process of elimination. There were only three driveways on the stretch of road lining the property, and I’d already been down two of them. It was kind of hard to find my way in the dark, especially since all of the driveways were so long and winding, but eventually I knew I’d found the right place when I saw Ellie’s car parked in front of the beautiful one-story house.
I was a little shaky so I hid my hands in my pockets as soon as I’d knocked on the front door. It was so quiet out in the middle of nowhere that I could hear a TV playing inside the house and the thumping of footsteps as they came toward where I was standing. When Mike opened the door, his eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Hey, Morgan,” he said, taking a step back to let me inside. “What brings you by?”
“Hi, Mike.” I tried to smile at him, but nerves made it more of a grimace. “Is Ellie around?”
“Sure.” Mike hesitated, and looked past me. “Trev come with you?”
“No, it’s just me,” I said quietly.
He closed the door behind me without a word, then reached up to scratch the side of his jaw. After a moment, he nodded.
“She’s back in the craft room,” he said, nodding his head toward the hallway. “I’ll show ya.”
Ellie was sitting at a long table covered in scraps of paper and photos. She was so engrossed in what she was working on that she didn’t look up right away when we reached the doorway. By the time she stopped what she was doing and lifted her eyes, Mike had slipped away—or run for cover—and I was the only one standing there.
“Yes?” Ellie asked, her voice flat.
I’d had all of these replies prepared for when she asked why I was there, or called me a name, or kicked me out of her house, but I didn’t have anything planned for that kind of reception.
“Um.” I clenched my fists inside my coat pockets.
“I’m in the middle of something—”
“Why do you hate me?” I asked, her dismissive words triggering a little attitude of my own. “You don’t even know me.”
“And whose fault is that?” she asked, throwing the paper in her hand down onto the table.
“You’re kidding, right?” I sputtered. “I tried to get to know you. I invited you to my house.”
“Then turned my son against me.”
“I didn’t do that,” I ground out.
“Thanks,” she said condescendingly.
“If that’s what you think happened, I’m sorry.” My tone was nothing but nice, even though I wanted to turn around and walk right back out of that house.
“Is that all?”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot here,” I tried to say, but stopped when she snorted.