Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Okay,” he stumbles, “yeah, of course. Call me when you get back.” He disconnects first this time, not giving me a chance to say anything else.
“What the fuck was that all about?” I look at the phone that has the lock screen of me and the girls on their first day of school. “Why the hell did you say no? This is literally what you’ve wanted.”
I swipe up and go to my call list, seeing his name and calling him back. I sit up on my bed, waiting for him to answer. Even though he answers after one ring and a half, I have to think he didn’t want to answer. “Hey,” I say before he can even say hello, “I’m coming back this afternoon.” I shock myself at this decision because I was supposed to be here for the next four days. “So if you want to go out and get that talk out of the way tonight, we can do that.”
“Yeah,” he agrees right away. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll pick you up at seven. Is that good?”
“Works for me,” I confirm, looking at my watch. If I leave now, I’ll get home by four thirty, which would still give me enough time to get ready.
“I’ll see you then,” I say, hanging up the phone before either of us changes our minds. I run down the stairs toward the kitchen to find my mother, who is cleaning the lunch dishes. “Hey,” I start, walking in, “I’m going to head back home.”
I look around, wondering where the girls are. “What?” my mother asks, shocked. “Why?”
“I just—” I start to say and then stop. I haven’t really told anyone but Dr. Mendes about Christopher. “Thought I would get back home and—”
“If you have to go home for work, then you should go,” she says, drying her hands. “Would it be okay if we kept the girls here?”
“I don’t want to do that to you.”
“Oh, please, it’s been so fun having them here.” She smiles at me. “Why don’t you go home and, I don’t know, go out.”
“Mom,” I gasp, avoiding looking at her.
“What?” Her voice goes high. “You are a young widow with two kids. There is nothing wrong with you going out and having fun. You aren’t the one who…” She doesn’t say the rest of the words. “Now, go pack your stuff and get on the road.” She smiles and blinks away tears. “We will bring the kids home on Sunday.”
“Okay,” I agree, hugging her. It takes me about five minutes to pack my stuff, and the girls aren’t even sad to see me go. They both hug me and wave at the window when I pull out. I make it home in less time than I thought it would take me. I walk in and go straight to my bedroom, emptying my bag in the closet before looking for what I should wear. I don’t even know where I’m going, but I figure I should dress nice.
I pull up Dr. Mendes’s contact and send her a quick text.
Me: What does one wear on a date with her dead husband’s best friend? Asking for a friend.
I move my hangers, checking my options when she answers me back.
Dr. Mendes: Three red bows, one on each of your nipples, the other one on your vagina. If that is not an option, go for red. It screams have sex with me.
Me: Forget I asked you.
I put my phone in my back pocket before I grab a red pantsuit I’ve never worn. Holding it up, I then walk over to my bodysuits, grabbing a lace one that dips very low in the front and lower in the back. I put the outfit on my bed before rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and do my hair. I straighten my hair and part it in the middle, tucking it behind my ears before putting on some smoky eye shadow and mascara. I go back to get dressed before applying the lip gloss. I slide on the bodysuit first before I grab the pants that fit me perfectly, tight all the way down to my ankles. The bodysuit is sexy and shows off my cleavage just enough to make him want it but not enough that I’m giving away the farm. I put the jacket on to finish the look, pushing the sleeves up a bit before stepping into my black sky-high shoes that are not made for walking. They are made to put on, walk to the car, and then to the table. I apply my lip gloss and then take a picture of myself to send to Dr. Mendes.
Me: Went with the red option.
Dr. Mendes: I see no bows.
I laugh and put the phone in my handheld purse, walking downstairs and already regretting the shoes decision. I don’t have a chance to second-guess anything because the doorbell rings. I ignore all the butterflies in my stomach and walk to the door, hoping I don’t vomit all over his shoes. I pull open the door and I can’t help but smile when I see him, even though I want to stab his toe with the heel of my shoe for being a dick the other night. “Hey,” I greet him, ignoring how satisfied I am when his mouth hangs open.