Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Me too,” I whisper. “Tell Nora I said hi. Okay?”
Layla nods. “Of course. She still wants to have Reagan over to swim.”
“Sure. Just … call me.” I say before jogging to catch up to Josie.
“Hey, sorry about that. Do you want me to grab you anything from the concession stand?”
Josie continues to push her walker down the sidewalk and shakes her head. “Nope. I stopped being a fan of concession stands when I saw you making out with Tessa behind one.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I can get you some popcorn or candy without making out with anyone.”
“You sure?”
Layla.
I step in front of Josie a few feet from the bleachers, forcing her to stop. “Look at me.”
After huffing a breath, she lifts her gaze.
“Layla invited me to the ballet. That’s where we were going that night. We were friends. She lost her husband a year ago, so we had something in common, or so I thought.”
Josie frowns, but I ignore it.
“We met at a game. The girls bonded. It’s that simple. I didn’t make out with her behind a concession stand. I didn’t ask her to homecoming. I haven’t had sex with her. We haven’t kissed. We haven’t held hands. We’ve been friends.”
“I don’t care.” She pushes past me.
I drop my shoulders and glance at the sky, looking for help, looking for answers.
“Josie!” Reagan comes barreling toward her, dropping her glove onto the ground while her team continues to warm up. I’m so glad I called Katy this morning, explaining things so she could give Reagan a heads-up.
“Easy,” I say to Reagan as she hugs Josie.
“Cute hair. When did you decide to cut it?” Josie asks.
Reagan releases her and steps back. “You cut it, silly. Don’t you remember?”
“Reagan—” I try to interrupt, but Reagan ignores me.
“On your wedding day. You put it in a ponytail and cut it off. Then you told me to give it to my dad. Then …” Reagan’s smile vanishes. “You disappeared.”
Josie remembers none of that. I can tell from the loss of all color in her face.
“Reagan, you need to get back to your team. The game’s about to begin.” I shoo her toward the field.
“Hey, Josie. So good to see you,” Katy steps down from the bleachers, followed by Sean, and hugs Josie.
“I’m …” Josie shakes her head. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Katy squints at Josie and then at me.
“I … I shouldn’t be here.” Josie tries to push her walker over the gravel toward the parking lot.
“What did I say?” Katy presses her hand to her chest.
“Nothing. Just … nothing.” I take long strides toward Josie and grab her just as her walker catches, and she starts to tumble over it.
Pulling her into my chest, I rest my hand on the back of her head while she cries.
“I’m sorry … I’m so s-sorry …”
“Shh …” I kiss her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I c-cut her h-hair. Who does th-that?” She shakes in my arms.
“We’ll tell Reagan something came up, and you’ll call her later. Okay?” Sean says from behind me as he bends down to pick up Josie’s walker.
I give him my best thank-you smile and a slight nod. Resisting the urge to pick her up, I keep Josie hugged to me and help her to the car while Sean follows us with the walker.
Josie slumps against the door while I drive toward home. “Take me to my house,” she says, her words void of life.
When we get to her house, she opens the door before I have her walker out. She stands on shaky legs, holding tightly to the door to keep upright. “Layla is beautiful and normal. She’s not a monster. She would never cut Reagan’s hair. She would never leave you at the altar. I’m giving you a pass, Colten. Just … take it.”
“Shut up, Josie. Just shut the fuck up.” I grab her face and kiss her.
Taste her.
Inhale her.
With her lips pressed to mine, I come to life for the first time since our wedding day. The gaping hole she left in my heart fills with her touch, expanding my chest, healing it one slow breath, one slow beat at a time. When I release her mouth, I whisper over her lips, “You died for this life. You died to give up that life, to forget it. So please … please let it go. Be who you are, not who you think you were. Be mine. Not his.”
“I’m broken,” she whispers in a shaky voice.
“Baby, we’re all a little broken. I’ll take you chipped, cracked, or shattered into a million little pieces.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Josie wouldn’t go with me to homecoming our senior year. Over the summer, I got a fake ID, started drinking on the weekends, and dove headfirst into self-destruction. She also didn’t tell anyone. Not my parents. Not hers.