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)
He listened to all of that, his breaths slightly elevated. “Sweetheart.”
I waited for him to say more, knowing it was coming.
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “If I hurt you more than he ever has, then that means I mean more to you. It means that I’m the man you want, but you’re scared. So, you’re settling. And everything you said before is bullshit. You don’t need him to care for you or protect you. You’re perfectly capable of doing those things on your own. What the fuck happened to make you change your entire identity like this? Because the woman I met had a spine stronger than the knuckles in my fist. She held her head higher than a queen. She was a bad bitch who didn’t take shit—not even from me.” He cocked his head slightly. “What happened, Astrid?”
I looked away.
“Tell me.”
I didn’t want to repeat the story. Couldn’t describe it without it playing out in my mind, without it provoking the feelings I tried to bury. “I’ve made my choice, Theo. And I mean it when I say I don’t ever want to see you again.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I said it. It would hurt too much, to see the disappointment he tried so hard to mask. “Bolton and I are in a monogamous relationship now, so I feel deceitful even talking to you. I’m not a liar. I can’t hide things. Don’t make me hide things.”
There was silence.
I continued to avoid his gaze and waited for him to leave.
But he wouldn’t make it that easy. He was determined to make this as difficult as possible.
I continued to wait.
He continued to stay.
“Sweetheart.”
I blinked at the endearment, remembering the first time he’d said it to me. My eyes found his.
“You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
I hung up my coat when I got home, expecting the smell of dinner because Bolton did all the cooking nowadays, but the air was absent of the aromas of a hot meal. When I walked into the kitchen, I found it empty. I moved into the living room next and found him working on something on the coffee table, a machine with lots of parts and pieces. I wasn’t even sure what it was. He was like a kid putting together a toy model.
“Hey.”
My voice made his hands flinch. “Baby, I didn’t hear you come in.” He left the parts on the coffee table and walked over to me, giving me a one-armed hug and a quick kiss on the lips.
“What is that?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just something I’m trying to put together. How about we go out to dinner tonight?”
“Out?” We hardly ever did that, not unless it was a work thing.
“Unless you don’t want to. I can run out and grab takeout.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Great. Have a place in mind?”
I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. Just had a large coffee with oat milk. After my appetite had disappeared, it never came back. During different times of my life, I’d actually tried to lose weight and it never worked, and then the one time I didn’t try, it just fell off me. “I’m fine with anything.”
“Alright. I’m in the mood for steak.”
We went to one of his favorite restaurants. He ordered a steak with potatoes, and I ordered pasta. I didn’t mind meat, but I didn’t desire it the way he did. It seemed to be the only thing he ever wanted. If I made a salad, he took a few bites to be polite then moved on to the main course.
We ate in silence, just the way we did at home.
He looked at me from time to time. “How was work?”
Theo popped into my mind, tall and muscular, brooding, and desperate for forgiveness. I felt obligated to tell Bolton about it, but knowing they were enemies made me refrain. I didn’t want either of them to be casualties in a gunfight. “Fine.”
“Did anybody come in?”
My heart picked up at the question.
He seemed to read my mood because he said, “You always say no one ever comes in.”
“Oh…right.” Most of the paintings I sold were to our existing client list. I sent out a picture in a newsletter, and people bought it without ever seeing it in person. Walk-ins happened, but walk-ins who actually bought something rarely happened. “We got a new painting of Versailles today. It’ll probably be gone within the week.”
“Did you notify your clients?”
“Not yet.” I’d been distracted all day. And then Theo had walked in, and I’d gotten nothing done. “It came in later in the afternoon. We’d barely hung it up before we closed.”
He nodded then took another bite. He didn’t seem to be suspicious of anything, but my husband was a hired hit man, so it was hard to know what he really thought of anything. He swirled his glass of red wine before he took a drink. “You like your pasta?”