Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
How am I going to raise a baby on my own?
And how am I going to ever get off this couch again if Tuck was for real when he said he couldn’t do this?
I startle when my phone rings a little after six. It’s Jen, trying to FaceTime me. My stomach dips.
Wiping my eyes, I sit upright and answer. Katie’s sweet little face fills the screen. She’s wearing a headband with glittery turquoise cat ears on it, a bunch of necklaces, and a Spiderman costume.
It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“Hi Mare!” she cries.
I smile. “Hey, Katie Bear! Whatcha doing?”
“I’m playing with Auntie Jen. We’re doing foil art.”
“Foil art? That sounds fun.”
“When are you coming back? Daddy says you went away for a day.”
Clearing my throat, I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Well. We’ll see. But I miss you so, so much.”
“I miss you too,” she singsongs. “Can we do pom-poms when you get back?”
“Of course we can. I’ll teach you all the cheers I know.”
She looks at me through the screen, clearly studying my face. It’s swollen beyond recognition. “Are you sad, Mare?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Take a deeeeeep breath.”
I hear Jen laughing in the background. Tuck tells Katie to take a deep breath anytime she’s upset. She even mimics his low, soothing tone.
It’s hilarious, and it only makes me want to cry harder.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” I manage.
Katie smiles. “Yes.”
“Okay, Katie, why don’t you finish your beautiful picture while I chat with Maren.” Jen pivots the phone so the camera is on her. The screen shakes, and I see her walking away from the kitchen table in an effort to get some privacy. She sticks out her lips when she sees me. “Oh, Maren. How are you holding up?”
I grab a tissue and dab my eyes. “Not great. But thank you for calling. I miss my girl like crazy.”
“She misses you too.” Jen keeps her voice low. “We all do. My brother is in bad shape.”
“I assume he told you what happened?”
“In so many words. I love him dearly, but . . . well, the decisions he makes sometimes are fucking terrible, I’ll put it that way. I’m going to try to talk some sense into him when he gets back.”
My gut goes cold. “Where did he go?”
“To the office. He said he had to work, which I don’t buy for a second. I was hoping he’d hop in a boat and go see you.”
“Not gonna lie, I was hoping that too.”
“He’ll come around, Maren. I’ll do my best to make him see the light. We all will. Dad and I were just saying how much happier Tuck’s been since you entered the picture. He’s a different man. It’s like I got the brother I grew up with back.”
I swallow. “I miss him. And I hate him. And then I miss him again.”
“I told you, he’s all bark and no bite. I truly believe that. I’m going to stick around until he believes that about himself too.”
“You really don’t have to. Y’all—you and your parents—you’ve been so good to us.”
“It’s what family does. I love y’all, and I’ll be damned if the thing you and Tuck have going on falls apart on my watch.”
“Auntie Jen? Auntie Jen, look! Do you love it? I put purple on the unicorn.”
Jen looks down. I see the top of Katie’s little head appear on the screen. She’s holding up a piece of paper.
“Let me see,” I say.
Katie turns to face the camera. She shows me her picture, complete with unicorn stickers, a castle, and sparkly gemstones.
I’m gripped by longing so intense it takes my breath away. I want to be there doing foil art with her. We’d sit at the kitchen table. Tuck would be at the stove making dinner, a whiskey in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. Music would be playing. A country playlist, maybe, or Frank Sinatra.
“Beautiful,” I manage.
“What Tuck did to you is wrong,” Jen says when Katie returns to the table. “But please give him another chance. That’s a huge ask, I know. But I have to believe he’ll come around. He can’t exist in this weird catatonic state forever.”
I nod, unable to reply. Maybe Jen really does believe Tuck will let me back in.
But I’m not sure that I do.
thirty
. . .
Tuck
Slaying Dragons
I can’t sleep.
The thought of eating makes me want to vomit. I move through my days in a fog, my head pounding from the multiple whiskey sours I downed the night before. Alcohol is the only thing that calms the restless pain that grips me day and night.
They say time heals all wounds. But with each day that passes, I feel worse.
I think about Maren constantly. The regret I have over how I treated her—how I’m still treating her—is a hand wrapped around my throat, choking me.