Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I sigh. I’m tired. I have been blaming all of this on Crue alone. But didn’t I have a hand in this as well? I say I hate him. And I’m certain of that much, but there’s more to it than that. The small moments on the couch and watching television. The phenomenal sex. Him. Entitled. Possessive and all-consuming. As irrational as our time together was, I can’t deny what Angel called me out on. It had been thrilling. It had woken me from my stupor.
I don’t think I want to die alone, but I don’t necessarily care if I do, either. But her insinuation of me running away was the eye-opener because hadn’t Monica said something similar? I never ran away from anyone or anything in court. I would always take everything head-on. So why is it different when it comes to Crue?
I hate that this man still consumes my thoughts even when I know we’re done.
We stop at the end of the gravel driveway, and the horse ranch that Honey had built for her fifth birthday is in the distance. She’d always been the princess, not me.
I find myself starting to battle with something. The familiar driveaway and perfectly lined trees. The mansion where I grew up. But it isn’t the only one we own. We have numerous vacation homes. My favorite is the lake house, which is only two hours from here.
My eyebrows furrow at the commotion as multiple people usher in an array of white roses. At the front of the group is Sharon, who is assigning their locations. When she spots me, she waves. I give her a little wave back but still keep my distance in case she tries to hug me again.
“What’s all this for?” I ask, peering into the house that, despite all the commotion, doesn’t look like it has changed a bit.
“The engagement party tomorrow night.”
“Wow. That happened quickly. I’m surprised the Montis aren’t hosting at their place.” Considering how controlling Crue is, I think.
“Oh, they will be. Ours is tomorrow night, and they are having one at theirs on Saturday evening.”
I roll my eyes. Of course. Because what’s more lavish than two engagement parties on the same weekend? “Where’s Honey?”
At this, Sharon’s expression changes. She licks her lips nervously. “It might not be my place to say, but you need to sort this out before they’re married. Honey looks up to you. You’ve put her in a really difficult position.”
“I’ve put her in this position?” I say incredulously.
“There she is,” my father calls out as he walks over to hug me. My stepmother immediately continues to direct the staff. “About yesterday…” he begins.
“Papa, not now. I want to talk to Honey about it first.”
His jaw tics. He’s probably on edge. The spectacle that was Crue and me at the restaurant would be going down a treat right now, and there would be a lot he would have to answer for. But he is still my father.
“She’s in the kitchen. Come find me once you’re done.”
“Thanks, Papa.” I offer him a quick squeeze before I enter the house. Besides the décor that changes seasonally, it’s all the same. Memories of the old home during much simpler days flood my mind.
Honey’s light laugh flutters through the air while a pang of guilt twists in my stomach. Who is making her laugh like that? Is it Crue? Does he make her laugh because of all the provocative things he might say to her, like he did with me? A pang of jealousy and remorse stirs in my stomach, but I push it back down.
I brace myself. And when I turn the corner into the white marble kitchen with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the vineyard my family owns, I find Honey and Dawson.
Dawson smiles at her, encouraging her to try a piece of the cake. I don’t know what he said, but whatever it was, she’s holding her stomach and laughing. That ring on her finger is like a shiny beacon to my current misery.
Dawson is all smiles until his gaze slips over to me. “Rya?” he says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
I click my tongue. “Yeah, tell me about it. I could ask you the same.”
Honey is quiet momentarily before saying, “So I assume you two know each other?”
“Does she know?” he asks me and then looks at Honey.
“About your best friend’s dick move? Yeah, she knows. Well, sort of.”
“I know enough,” Honey adds, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.
I raise an eyebrow at her obvious nervousness around Dawson. He’s hot, and I don’t blame her, but I didn’t expect her to act so coy. I haven’t seen my sister for fourteen years, but this much is apparent—we aren’t kids anymore.
“Dawson, can you give us a few minutes, please?”