Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Then you underestimated Bolton.”
“I—I wish there was a way that I could have both.” That I could have the woman and the revenge, but my life was too fucked up. My heart was too fucked up.
“Talk to her,” Axel said. “Maybe it’s not too late.”
I stared at the coffee table.
“But you burned her bad, so you’re going to have to give her some guarantees.”
“What about Bolton?”
“He hasn’t upheld his end of the deal yet, so you don’t have to uphold yours. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no contract in place. He’s strung you along for weeks now. Revert back to the original plan.”
“But I can’t kill him.”
“You can still torture him for the information, kill the asshole who ordered the hit, and let Bolton live. You’ll have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life, but it sounds like you were going to do that anyway. And if Bolton feels any affection for Astrid, he’ll be in the same predicament as you are, unable to kill the man she cares about. It’ll be an unspoken truce between you two.”
“Bolton made it sound like the guy who ordered the hit is a force to be reckoned with. That’s why he agreed to help me.”
“Well, I’m a force to be reckoned with too,” he said. “I’m with you on this.”
My mind was in a haze, so I had to blink a few times before I understood his words. “You’re out of the game, Axel.”
“But you know I have your back.”
“I appreciate the offer—”
“I want you to have what I have, Theo. I want you to have the woman, and I want you to have the peace. I’m happy to do this with you. We don’t need Bolton. So get your woman back—and then we’ll handle the rest.”
5
ASTRID
I was back at home, in the house that had been ours for years. It felt the same as it always had…but also like a foreign land. Bolton remained at home instead of returning to work, so he was attentive and present, helping me cook in the kitchen, sitting on the couch with me while I read and he watched TV.
He was stuck to me like glue, more affectionate than he’d ever been, visibly happy that I had decided to come home.
But I didn’t mirror his happiness. I was a glass jar full of cold fog. It swirled endlessly, never physical in form but taking up the entire space, nonetheless. Numb was a good way to describe me. But that was a good way to be, because if I was numb, then I couldn’t feel anything—good or bad.
I sat across from him at dinner, my eyes on the food he’d made that I only ate to be polite. My appetite had never really returned.
“Astrid?”
I looked up at him.
“I found a good therapist in town. Would you want to try couples therapy?”
I blinked several times as I looked at him. “Why?”
Now, he blinked, as if he hadn’t expected that answer. “You still don’t seem like yourself.”
Because I was a hollow shell where only weeds grew. “I just need some time.” A shrink would only state the obvious, that Bolton had broken the marriage when he’d decided to open it to others. But I couldn’t mention Theo in his presence, so he would never know how deep my feelings had been for someone else, how my heart had beat for someone else with astounding speed. That was what I needed a shrink for, to overcome the horrible way Theo had chewed me like tobacco and spit me out into the gutter.
“Sure,” he said. “Maybe we should take a trip. You love Paris.”
I loved Paris because it was the most romantic city in the world, and I’d been head over heels in love with Bolton from the moment I met him. We’d spent time there in the past, staying at an apartment and getting coffee together every morning. But now, I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go back there again, to be reminded of how easy my life had been at one point, to wonder if Bolton had really loved me then—or if he’d wanted to fuck every woman he saw on the street. “Maybe.”
He continued to watch me, disappointment in his eyes.
I looked at my food again.
“Astrid, is there something I can do—”
“It’s been five days, Bolton. Five days since some assholes broke in to my apartment. Five days since I moved back in here. Five days since you told me that Theo played me for a fucking fool. I’m sorry that I’m not moving on as quickly as you would like, but this is as fast as I go.”
He stared at me, elbows on the table.
I didn’t mean to snap, but the quiet pressure he applied had ground me into sand.
“Therapy isn’t going to make me go faster. A trip to Paris isn’t going to make me go faster. This shit is going to take time, so if you can’t accept that, then perhaps I should go.”