Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The struggle to move forward with my life may be fucking bloody and brutal, but I’ll be damned if it carries the same burden as my past. As tired as I am of advice coming out of every Tom, Dick, and Kyle to cross my line of vision, the message is solid.
It’s the one that’s staying.
It’s the one I’m gonna keep holding onto.
I’ve been given a second chance at almost everything, and I’m obligated to make it work.
I will fucking make it work.
I don’t always know how or when.
I don’t always fucking understand the mechanics.
But I’m not giving up.
I gotta keep going and figure this life shit out.
I mean I owe that to everyone who’s helped me this long.
Fuck, I kind of think I owe it to myself.
Chapter 4
Presley
Discussion Topic 2: Redefining Yourself is the New Black
“Ohmygod, Mom,” my frustrations are attempted to be soothed by a hair ruffle, “I just have to let the movers in. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”
“Shouldn’t you stay with them?” the fragileness in her tone only adds more irritation to the moment. “Wouldn’t it be a better idea than just letting complete strangers roam your brand-new home? Wouldn’t that be the wiser and safer and smarter decision?”
Honestly?
I’m so over this shit.
I’m so fucking over having her hold my hand like a toddler learning to walk for the first time.
Don’t get me wrong.
I completely understand where she’s coming from. Anytime my brother would have a breakup, a meltdown of epic portions would follow, that and of course most people who breakup with someone after half a decade are typically a blubbering mess, not just scatterbrained.
But I’m not most people.
And breaking up with Xander was more like throwing away a pair of old tennis shoes I had kept for too long because I was too scared or too lazy or too busy or too indifferent to just buy new ones.
Again, I don’t miss him so much as the predictability.
It’s this unpredictable nonsense that keeps getting the better of me.
Oh!
And all the damn shopping.
Totally didn’t realize just how much of that in my life I didn’t do until I suddenly had to start doing so damn much of it.
“Mom,” I begin after a slow, calming breath, “for the last time, Merrick isn’t a stranger. He works for me at the school, remember? The one with the tattoos. Usually wears a black baseball cap. He was the one you said was sweeter than sugarplums at the Christmas event.”
“Oh, I remember him!”
“Which means you should remember that he’s a great guy.”
“Okay. What about the other person?”
“His new roommate. And he wouldn’t be his new roommate if he was a bad guy.”
Her hum of agreement has me jumping on the chance to end the conversation
“I’ll be fine, and this shit will be quick. Go ahead and leave now. Get a head start on looking around. I’ll meet you there super soon. I promise.”
“Call me if anything changes. Or you need anything. Or-”
“I got it, Mom.”
She reluctantly tells me goodbye, yet I swiftly hit the end call to cross from my front door to where Merrick is hopping out of his own truck.
He immediately turns his black baseball cap around at the same time he cheerfully greets, “Mornin’, boss lady.”
“You know that you can call me Presley, right? Like…outside of work.”
“You don’t like boss lady?”
“I don’t like you feeling obligated to call me that.”
“Straight up?”
Unsure of exactly what he’s asking leads to me nodding.
“I don’t feel obligated to do much.”
The wink I’m shot has me shaking my head on a light laugh. “Must be nice.”
“Let me know if you need tips on how to do this shit too.”
“Noted.” His body pauses directly in front of mine, which is when I ask, “Are you moving all the boxes alone? I mean you probably could, but-”
“Nah. My roommate should be here any minute. He had to stop and turn in some final paperwork for his new job. He would’ve done it earlier, but he had to pick up his new car first.”
“That’s a lot of new things all in one day.”
“It’s what happens when you’re starting over.”
Preaching to the goddamn choir.
“Gotta start new with the new, you feel me?”
Again, lecturing to the damn lecturer.
Without waiting for a response, he tips his head towards the small U-Haul parked dead center of my driveway. “First load?”
“Entire load.”
His tight features wrinkle. “You pack that shit like Tetris?”
“Wasn’t necessary.”
“Uh…,” he tosses a polite hand my direction, “care to fucking elaborate?”
“Well, first of all, I don’t have any furniture.”
“Like any?”
“Nope.” My navy wrap dress shoulders guiltily bounce. “Thankfully, the house comes with the basic kitchen appliances, so I don't have to buy those while I’m out, but everything else?” Forcing a smile is difficult. “Yeah. I have to spend the rest of my day picking out furniture and scheduling for it to be delivered because evidently just making lists of shit you need isn’t enough. You have to physically go out and get it, too.”