Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“This isn’t like you,” Max says. “My brother doesn’t give up on what he wants.”
I let my head roll and my temple thumps against the window again, my eyes staring blankly out the window. “Your brother also knows when he can’t win at something and cuts his losses.”
“Bullshit, Lucas,” Max whispers in an acidic voice. “You’re a chickenshit, and frankly, I’m ashamed of you.”
This gets my attention. While Max and I might not always see eye to eye on things, he’s my best friend in the world. He’s my brother and the one I trust most in this world. Disappointing him is like a gut punch.
My head pops up and I turn to look at him. “What do you think I should do that I haven’t?”
“You should try,” he says simply.
I tense up at his words as I remember saying something very similar to Stephanie that day we broke up. I pushed her to keep trying, and the minute she said something I didn’t like, I gave up.
“She said she wanted space,” I say in a low voice. “That she only wanted to be friends.”
“And then you told her she’d fuck her child up,” Max returns gently, because he knows that still chafes me hard. He knows this because he knows I’m not the type of person to react so viciously. “I’m pretty sure the lines of communication were dinged a little at that point.”
“Which is why I’m trying to move on,” I point out.
“No, it’s why you’re giving up.”
“You think that if I just apologize to her that she’ll forgive me for saying something so fucked up?”
“I think you don’t know until you try,” he says, and fuck, why does it have to be that simple?
It can’t be that simple.
My body jostles in the seat as the plane’s wheels touch down, then leans slightly forward as the brakes are applied. Max pulls out his phone and turns it on so he can text Jules that he’s landed. I used to think that was ridiculous, being so tied to someone that you wanted to let them know when you were no longer in the air and on solid ground, but goddamn, I’d kill to be able to do that with Stephanie.
I’m only half paying attention as Max reads something on his phone, then he’s got it up to his ear. I perk up and listen intently, though, when he says, “What’s wrong?” into the phone.
I turn my head to look at him and his eyes are worried as he listens to whom I’m assuming is Jules on the other end. I’m also assuming she must have sent him a text to call her when we landed.
Max listens for a very long time and I feel my anxiety increasing, because the worry never leaves his face. I have no clue what it could be. One of the kids? I’d die if something happened to one of them. Or our parents? Simone?
Finally, Max says, “I’m going to tell him.”
Fuck…he’s talking about me. My gut tightens, and then I feel bile rising in my throat when he says, “He deserves to know. I’ll take the heat for telling him.”
Shit, shit, shit. This is about Stephanie. I know it.
“Okay, honey…love you too. I’ll call you in a little bit.”
Max hangs up and immediately confirms my worst fears. “It’s Stephanie.”
My breath gushes out as my lungs deflate and I prepare for the worst. “Is the baby—”
Max shakes his head. “No, the baby is fine. But Stephanie was in an accident; hit by a car. She’s got a broken wrist and a concussion.”
“Jesus,” I mumble as my head spins. “When? Where?”
“A few hours ago,” Max tells me. “She was stepping into an intersection to cross and a car was coming. Some guy pulled her back but the car caught her arm, then she hit her head. Jules has been to see her in the ER and is going back in the morning.”
“Stephanie didn’t want me to know, did she?” I ask. Max told Jules he’d take the heat, and that means I was finding out something that someone didn’t want me to find out.
Max shakes his head. “No, but Jules wouldn’t keep that from me. My telling you takes Jules out of it with Stephanie.”
A heavy weight presses down on my chest. Stephanie really doesn’t need me, or anyone really for that matter. I should call her and check in, make sure I hear it with my own ears that she’s fine, then I have to move the fuck on.
Except, I can’t fathom how I do that when I know she’s lying in a hospital all by herself. She may feel most comfortable as the loner who handles everything on her own, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. That I can’t give her support. In fact, I’m thinking maybe I sidestepped this too much with Stephanie, playing it a little too casual so I didn’t offend her sensibilities. Maybe what I should have been doing was pushing her out of her comfort zone more, forcing her to see that things like care and trust and loyalty don’t have to be high-risk endeavors.