Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“I’ll call you tonight,” I tell her, and for the first time, I’m uneasy about going away. It also happened at the beginning when I had Penelope. I would worry every second of every day until I got back and made sure she was okay.
“Okay, if I can’t answer…” she starts to say, and I just nod my head. She leans over and kisses me. “Be safe.” She smiles, leaving me with one last kiss before leaving the car.
The next four days go by at a snail’s pace, or at least that is how it feels. The nights are usually spent waiting for her to call me back, and the days I don’t call her because I know she sleeps all day long. When I finally walk off the plane at home, I rush to my car and get in. I didn’t tell her what time I was coming home, hoping it would be enough time, but there was an issue with the landing gear or something. I just hope she’s not still sleeping by the time I get to her.
I ring the doorbell once, and I’m about to walk away when I hear the door unlock. She opens the door, and I see her squinting at the sun, but her whole face lights up when she sees me. She throws open the door and jumps into my arms. “You’re here!” She buries her face in my neck, wrapping her legs around me. I walk into her house with her attached to me, but the minute I take two steps in, my phone rings in my pocket.
“I hate your phone,” she mumbles as I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and see it’s the alarm to go and get Penelope.
“Sorry, I thought I was going to get here earlier,” I tell her. “But the plane was delayed.”
She unwraps herself from me. “How fast can you get dressed?” I finally look down and see she’s wearing the white shirt she wore the last night she slept over. “That’s my shirt.”
“It is,” she confirms, walking up the steps to her bedroom. “I borrowed it,” she says over her shoulder. “Give me two minutes.” In less than two minutes, she’s coming back down wearing yoga pants and a white tank top. Her bump definitely got bigger. She puts on a button-down shirt when we get to the front door, as she picks up a big duffel bag. “I figured I’d be staying over at your place,” she says and then looks away. “I should have asked.”
I walk to her and turn her head toward me. “We’ll start with one bag at a time, and hopefully, after a while, you’ll have everything at my house.” She laughs as we walk out.
“Can we keep the bag in the car when we get home?” she asks when we pull up to Penelope’s school. “I don’t want her to feel like I’m just barging in.”
“Do you know the first thing she asked me every single night when I called her?” I ask her, and she just looks at me. “If you were moving in.” Abigail opens her mouth and then closes it. “Let’s go, baby.” I kiss her neck. “You look very sexy,” I tell her, and she gasps.
“Can you not talk about sex in a school parking lot?” she hisses, walking with me. Penelope comes running out of the door, straight to me. She jumps in my arms, just like she’s always done when I’m away more than two days.
“Hey, you.” I wrap my arms around her and kiss her about ten times, making her giggle at me.
“Stop, Dad,” she says, squeezing down her neck to make sure I don’t kiss her. “Can we have ice cream?”
“We can,” I agree as she walks over to Abigail and hugs her also.
“How’s the baby?” she asks as we walk to the car.
“He had the hiccups this week,” she shares with us, “and I felt them.” I open the car door for Penelope and then for Abigail.
I don’t think I’ve ever been happier until my phone beeps, and I see a text from Xavier.
Hey, have you seen this?
He attached a link to an Instagram page where the gossip from the team is. I spot my picture right away. Clicking on it, I see the caption.
Sources are saying that Tristan Weise is expecting another baby.
I feel like I’m going to throw up when I see the comments.
How many baby mommas is this?
Two kids, two moms?
The last comment makes me want to throw my phone.
I wonder if he knows who the woman is this time?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ABIGAIL
I watch him look down at the phone, seeing the color drain from his face. I’m putting the plate in the sink, my eyes never leaving his. His fingers grip the phone so hard his knuckles are turning white. “Is everything okay?” I ask him, turning to clean up the rest of the dinner plates. I wait for him to answer me, but the only thing he does is shake his head.