Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“I know exactly.” I smiled, realizing where I’d gotten that gift. “I’d love to bake with you today, Gran.”
“This Thanksgiving is lame,” Tabitha said over the meal I’d prepared in Gran’s kitchen and laid out on her dining room table.
“Zip it, Tabitha,” I told her, pouring myself more wine.
“Now, girls. We’ve been through enough.” Gran took a bite of turkey. “And dinner is wonderful, Lexi. You’re such a good cook.”
“Thanks.” It wasn’t much—a small turkey, a simple stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, plain old green beans. I hadn’t had time to make anything fancy.
“So where’s Devlin eating?” Tabitha picked up her wineglass. “Did he move out already?”
“I’m not sure,” I said listlessly. He hadn’t replied to my text. “Maybe.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Gran fretted. “The more I think about it, the more I’m sure this is just belated cold feet. Nothing to worry about. He’ll come back.”
“He won’t, Gran.” I spoke firmly. “I told you. We decided the marriage was a mistake. We’re getting a divorce.”
“But darling, why so soon? You haven’t tried to work things out.”
“There’s nothing to work on. We just aren’t meant to be together, Gran. We’re too different.”
“Differences can be overcome,” she urged. “He might say he doesn’t want a family now, but he’ll come around.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” said Tabitha. “Not everyone is cut out to have kids. Maybe he knows he wouldn’t be a good father.”
“He’d be a great father,” I said.
Gran sighed. “I’m sorry, darling. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before marrying some guy before you know anything about him,” said my cousin with a smirk.
“Zip it, Tabitha,” said Gran.
I almost smiled.
After the meal, Gran said she and Tabitha would do the dishes and suggested I take a walk to get some air. I put on my boots and coat, tugged a hat on my head, and stuck some gloves on my hands. Tabitha was still complaining about being forced into clean-up duty when I left the house.
It was just after five, and the sun was setting. Instinctively, I headed for the mountain in the fading light. When I reached the bottom of the deserted slope, I looked up toward the top. The trees rustled in the wind, but the chairlift was still. Maybe this weekend I’d go up and say goodbye. I never could talk Devlin into going up there with me.
Sadly, I walked toward the lodge, which was dark and silent, and would remain so forever, until they tore it down. I stretched out on a wooden bench near the front entrance and looked up, watching the stars appear in the sky like pinpricks through a screen.
I lay there as my toes grew cold and my teeth began to chatter. I lay there as farewell tears seeped from the corners of my eyes. I lay there as my heart yearned for the man I loved.
I lay there until I heard an eerie howling in the nearby woods, at which point I hopped up and hustled my ass out of there. A hungry, wolfish Devlin in the trees was one thing.
An actual wolf who wanted to eat me?
Fuck that.
I ran all the way home.
Right before bed, I checked my phone again, hoping for a message from Devlin. Or a voicemail—I missed the sound of his voice already. I wondered how his Thanksgiving dinner was, how his family had taken the news, if he’d accepted that job in Santa Monica yet.
If he’d changed his mind.
But there was nothing.
Heartsick, I turned off the lamp and crawled beneath the blankets, missing his body beside me, his arms around me, his voice in my ear.
My wife.
TWENTY-FOUR
devlin
No doubt about it, I ruined Thanksgiving.
Thanks to the news about my divorce, the mood over the holiday was strained and somber. If I could have waited until after the meal on Thursday to tell them, I would have, but the first question I got when I arrived at my dad’s house Wednesday afternoon was, “Where’s Lexi?”
I thought about making an excuse, putting off the task of announcing the split until later, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t have the energy to hide the truth.
My dad was crushed, but he tried not to show it. He gave me a hug with a few thumps on my back and said I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted and he was sorry to hear it hadn’t worked out. “I really liked that girl,” he said. “I hope it’s okay to say that.”
“Of course it is, Dad. I really like her too, I just—we just decided we’re better as friends.”
When I handed him the box with the earrings, he regarded it sadly for a moment. “Guess I’ll put these back.”
He disappeared into his bedroom, and I went upstairs to mine, where I shut the door, dropped my bag at the foot of the bed, and flopped onto my back across the mattress, one arm flung over my eyes.