Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe you found a way to tie that all together. That’s seriously impressive.” And it is.
It might be even more impressive that I want to believe her. I want to believe anything is possible. I want to believe that maybe things don’t always have to end up messy, and people don’t always have to end up getting hurt.
Orion isn’t my father, and he isn’t my mother. His family isn’t my blood family. There are plenty of people in my life who haven’t rejected me. To be fair, my mom didn’t leave until after she was sure I’d be okay. I was mature and responsible, and I would never leave my teenage child. Ever. But just because she did, after raising me and making sure I was okay after my dad left, didn’t mean she didn’t love me in some kind of way. It means everyone is human, and we all have our own issues that we’re dealing with. Sometimes, our mental health reaches a point where it’s just ready to snap, and we all need a break before it happens.
Or maybe she just wanted to see the world, and I was cramping her style, and then she subsequently forgot she had a daughter at all after she left, like I always thought was the case, and only remembers approximately once a year, though never on birthdays or holidays.
Mrs. Johnson squeezes my knee. “I’m not sure if you’ve had some bad experiences in the past or if you’re just not ready to settle down, but maybe keep a line of communication open. You never know what might come of it.”
“But if I left…I…I mean, I can’t just leave.”
She blinked back at me with her lips pursed like she just had a piece of sushi that was a little too fresh from the wild for her liking, which she never did. She inhaled all that sushi down like a pro. I had no idea someone her size could pack food away like that. “Leave? Why would you have to leave?”
“Oh, uh, we live in different cities. The long-distance thing wouldn’t work for me. I wouldn’t even consider it.”
“You spent a year trying to find him.”
I nod. I did tell her that after we got to dinner, but I left out the hacking, the friends of friends of friends, and the whole digging into the legal system to find someone who used a fake ID and didn’t want to be found parts.
“Well then. If you spent a year searching for someone, you shouldn’t just shove divorce papers their way when you finally find them.”
“I can’t exactly take that back.”
“You can’t take back what you did, but you can change what you do now. If you think there’s even a chance you’d like to pursue that nice, sushi-loving, good-natured, funny, and sweet hunk of a hottie, you should take it. You’re not officially divorced. Maybe there’s a reason the paperwork didn’t go through. Maybe it’s a sign.”
For a small place, the little sushi spot is bustling, and a couple walks past our table, hand in hand. He’s blonde and has the whole California surfer thing down even though this is Seattle, and she’s tiny and has dark hair and a librarian sort of look with the big glasses that make everyone look librarian-ish but are trendy as hell. They look mismatched on the surface, but when he looks down and makes eye contact with her as they stroll by, she smiles up at him, and that smile says she knows he’s always going to be there for her, and she’s always going to be there for him. Shit might get hard and scary, but she’s down to fight like a mother to stay together.
What would it be like to be able to look at someone that way?
What would it be like to have someone look at me like that?
Orion. Not just any someone. Him. My husband. My still married because we effed up the paperwork, said fuck it in Vegas, made it official, mysterious, hard to track down, crime-fighting boss of a husband.
“Are you getting tingles? You look like you’re getting tingles.”
“Tingles?” Orion appears out of nowhere carrying a huge plastic tub that is probably ice cream. The container is round and white and not translucent, but I’m going to bet that’s the famous green tea delicacy in there. “I’m getting tingles because this is freezing my hand. It’ll be worth it, though.” He glances at both of us. “Are you two ready to go?”
“Ready as a rocket,” Mrs. Johnson replies as she slides off the bench, and Orion is ready, holding out his arm for her. She takes it, grinning madly at me as if to say see, he even offers his arm for old ladies because he’s a perfect gentleman.
I’m not ready as anything, but I get out of the booth and trail after my husband and my neighbor.