Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Even if it means getting divorce papers in the mail one day.
I’m going to view this as a good thing, and I mean that. I’m able to walk away and start a new life. At first, I didn’t want that, and I was resentful and afraid, but now I just keep thinking about how amazing it is and how few people get this kind of chance. It’s literally a once-in-a-lifetime deal.
Still. I feel…I feel heavy.
And I think Alden does too.
I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure he does, either. There aren’t any reassurances we can give that will mean anything. He doesn’t give false hope or waste time on pretty words, and I like that about him. I like that a lot. So, instead of talking, we just hold each other in thick, heavy silence.
CHAPTER 16
Alden
“Yo, dude. You’re supposed to be packing up the house, not moping around. Binksky said you hadn’t done anything. They’ve done it all, and we know you’re not into heavy lifting, but your things aren’t boxed up yet. The guys are coming first thing tomorrow morning to take what you want to take before the house gets listed.”
I know Ransom is right, but when he shows up in the afternoon, all leather and cool, calm indifference, which isn’t anything new for him, though I shouldn’t say indifference—he’s just very level with his emotions—it drives me nuts.
“I’m not moping.” I grab a box from the stack in the living room and pop it open. There’s a tape gun sitting on the coffee table, and I slap a few lines down the flaps, slapping it down on the floor when I’m done. “There. Are you happy?”
“Not nearly. You have hours of packing to do. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. The house might be staged, so you can leave almost everything, but you have to be ready, right?”
“I know that.”
“You had best get started then. Unless you plan on leaving everything. Binksky and Pink have already packed up Azalea’s whole apartment and put everything in storage. Don’t make them do the same for you.”
“I thought Johnny and Deano could take a turn.”
“Watch out. They probably heard that.”
They’re currently outside, all four of them, eating pizza by the pool for the fortieth time this month. I swear, I’ve never met anyone who eats so much pizza. It’s like they chose that option from those silly questions where you’re asked if you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? Tacos, pizza, doughnuts, or smoothies. Obviously, they all went for the second option big time.
I shake my head slowly. “Did you just come by to kick my ass into gear, or did you have something to actually tell me that you couldn’t say online or over the phone?”
“No, I just came to see how you were doing.”
“So Granny is worried that I’m not going to be on the plane tomorrow morning.”
“No, as I said. I was worried.”
“So she sent you to make sure that I get my shit packed up, get up at four-thirty tomorrow morning, and don’t leave a big mess for anyone to clean up here. Obviously, I would never do that. I only have a few things to pack. The stuff I need goes in the suitcase and the carry-on, and whatever I don’t give a shit about goes in the boxes to the storage unit. I’ve already got it down. The guys are fine with cleaning the place spotless and making sure it’s staged properly for when the realtor comes. Granny has nothing to worry about. She didn’t need to fly you in to babysit my ass.”
“She’s in Switzerland already. It’s not that she doesn’t think you’ll make it. She really didn’t ask me to come at all. I came all on my own.”
“Okay, so she didn’t ask you to babysit my ass. You’re just worried that I’m not going to get to Switzerland and there’s going to be a fuss, so you took a detour in order to save Granny from having a heart attack, even though I always make my flights, and I’ve never messed up any of our plans.”
“Well, you did go sort of AWOL and kidnap Azalea when that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“It worked out okay in the end.”
“Lucky for you. I mean all of us.”
I nudge the box to the left with my toe while Ransom heaves a sigh. When I don’t venture into any other sort of conversation, he sighs again. And again. It’s so obvious that he wants me to say something or talk about whatever it is he has on his mind, but I’m not going there until he goes first.
Or even after that. Because if he came here to talk about what I think he came here to talk about, I’m not going there.