Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
The minute I say the words, I see something flash on his face. His eyes change a different color, and his jaw gets tighter than I’ve ever seen it get before. I even see his shoulders slump just a bit as I take a step toward him. “Nash.” I say his name, not sure what else to say when his phone rings from his pocket.
He grabs his phone, and I blink away the tears in my eyes. “Hey,” he says, clearing his voice like something is in his throat. “Yeah, I have it right here. Give me a second,” he adds. “I have to take care of something that I was supposed to handle this afternoon before I had to leave.”
“Of course,” I say as I watch him walk away from me and head toward the office.
I look down at the cat, who now is really squirming to get out of my arms. “We should get your litter done, I think,” I murmur as I place her on her feet in the middle of the kitchen, and she looks around. “But I don’t know where to put it.” I suddenly feel uncomfortable being here. “Should we wait for Nash to see where he wants to set you up?” I put my hand on my stomach as I breathe in and out, and I sit down on the floor next to the cat. “What should we call you?” I ask her as I pet her, looking toward the office where I hear him talking. “I think I know what I want to call you,” I say softly. “Lovey-dovey.” My voice cracks as I look back down the hallway, hoping I didn’t ruin it.
Twenty-Eight
Nash
I lean back in the chair and listen to Caine and my father talk about the merger they want to do. A meeting that was supposed to be this afternoon, but I got a call a week early to go and pick up the cat. My head is half in this phone call, half on Zoey and her words.
“After ninety days, we could be divorced. What if you, or we, decide this isn’t what either of us wants?”
I close my eyes, trying not to focus on the words and the fact my heart has never felt such pain as when she said we could be divorced. It was as if she kicked me in the balls, and I went down on the floor to my back, and then they came and stomped right on my chest. It left me so winded I had no idea what to say. The words were all stuck in my brain, but the only thing I could think is she already has one foot out the door. Is she doing this just to say she did it for ninety days and then just leave me, leave us?
“What do you think, Nash?” My father’s voice brings me back to the conversation.
“Um…” I clear my throat. “I agree with everything Caine said.” It’s my go-to, always has been because out of the two of us, he has his shit together, always has. Minus the part where he met his horrible, wretched ex-wife before meeting Grace.
Caine’s laughter fills the phone. “That means he hasn’t heard a thing we’ve said for the past hour because his head is elsewhere.”
“It is, actually,” I admit. “It’s almost eight here, and it’s past Caine’s bedtime.” I try to make a joke to get off this call. “How about we reconvene tomorrow morning at eight my time?”
“Sounds good. Have a good night, boys,” my father says right before he hangs up, and I laugh because we are both in our thirties, but we are still boys to him.
“Later,” I say.
At the same time, Caine says, “Good night.”
I put my phone down, seeing the emails that have come in since this afternoon when I left, knowing I have to answer a couple of them before I head to bed. I get up and walk out into the kitchen, seeing Zoey sitting on the floor trying to assemble one of the cat trees while the cat sits between her legs. “We are almost finished,” she tells the cat, and I see she put out the white water bowl I bought for her and right beside her the white bowl for food, “and then we are going to set up the litter box. I just don’t know where to put it.” I can’t help but feel centered and at peace when I hear her voice or know she’s around. “I was thinking the laundry room upstairs, but we’ll see once Nash gets off the phone.”
“I don’t care where you put it,” I cut in on their private conversation. “You can put it wherever you want it.”
She looks up at me, and all I can do is stare at her. “Oh, you’re off the phone,” she says softly.