Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
She’s still wiping away tears as I add, “Come move in with me. Let’s try this for real.” It’s not fucking around or a game, or pretend or a stupid drunken deal. I want to put my all into this, for her and for our future.
“Not for any other reason than to see if we can make this work?” she asks me. Right then and right there, I know how the rest of my life is going to be. She’s going to be right by my side if I can help it. I know with everything in me that we will make it work. Because she wants this and so do I. It’s easy between us. It always was. I was the reason we were apart. If I give her this, it’s over. I’m done for. She’ll have me wrapped around her finger and knocking her up again in no time. I search her eyes and all I see there is love.
It’s what I feel for her, too.
“I already know we work Grace. You’re my sweetheart.” I answer her with the only truth I know. “I want to be with you and that’s the only answer there is. I love you, Grace.”
Grace
Unwrapping a stack of plates, I move from the living room into the open-concept kitchen. The theme of this room must be gray, because the appliances, the countertops, and even the cabinets are gray and smooth. I set the plates down and open all the cabinets, searching for the place where the plates belong.
I find them in the last cabinet I open, far away from Charlie’s stove and refrigerator. Picking up my plates, I sigh as I move them into the cupboard. This is the third area of Charlie’s house I've found to be disorganized while in the process of moving my stuff in. Thankfully, he’s fine with me moving everything around. Like, actually good with it. He didn’t just say it to appease me, which is what I was afraid of. Most of the house was empty, with all of my things in here now, it’s... well it’s still a bit bare. We’ll make this house a home though. Charlie tells me that every night.
With a pleasant warmth running through me, I shut the cabinet door softly and count the days again. It’s been almost a month. I’m exhausted, which is apparently normal for the first trimester, but more than that, I’m still in awe that this is really my life.
I got the Prince Charming I longed for. My hand slips to my lower belly. Together, we’ll have a family.
Sooner or later, I’m going to break down and reorganize the kitchen, the bathroom, and the laundry room. I would do it now, but I don’t want to freak Charlie out… although Ann says when I start nesting, I won’t have much of a choice.
Back to the living room, I pick up the now-empty box that previously held the plates. Breaking it down, I fold it flat so it will be easier to take out to the recycling later.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out to check the message. It’s a text from Charlie, saying he'll be home soon… and that I better not be lifting anything heavy. The last part makes me laugh. I might be tired, but it’s not like I’m suddenly frail and can’t lift a couple of dishes.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I check it again, and then grin. It’s a picture of Eric, Charlie’s new bar manager, standing on his hands on top of the bar. Eric is supposed to manage the bar in Charlie’s stead, but Charlie’s having a hard time letting go.
I guess it’s safe to leave Mac’s in this guy’s hands… right? he texts.
I’m pretty sure. You wouldn’t have hired him otherwise. I respond.
Okay. On my way home.
I check the time, and realize it’s midnight, long past my bedtime. I got wrapped up with unpacking, but I’ll still be expected at work in the morning.
At my new position. In my new office. Oh, and a Diane-free office at that. She got fired. When Sarah informed me, I didn’t even bother asking why. I just told her I’d divide her assignments accordingly. Good riddance. Ann agrees. When I told Ann what happened at Mac’s that night, she flipped on Diane.
I drift into Charlie’s bedroom, shaking off the negativity — our bedroom, I suppose I should call it. Only good vibes from here on out. For both Charlie and me. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed and feeling a yawn come over me, I look down at my grubby t-shirt and cotton shorts. It’ll only take a moment to change out of these and into a button down of Charlie’s to greet him in when he comes home. It only takes a moment and I’m glad I did. The cotton smells just like him.