Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“I’m so sorry, Michael,” she said softly, the words like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t have any excuses. I—we’re here now, though.”
“You’re here now?” I asked, deliberately keeping my voice low so little ears outside wouldn’t catch it. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“I did the best I could with the options I had,” she said stubbornly.
“He’s two years old!” I stared at her.
I knew her. I knew the way she moved and the way she laughed and the freckle on the bottom of her left foot. I knew how she ate her hamburgers and the feel of the callus on her middle finger where she held a pen. I knew it all. I’d seen every emotion cross her face, every bad haircut she’d ever had. Hell, she’d borrowed my sweatshirt when she’d had her first period in sixth grade and bled through her pants. I knew her, and yet looking at her now felt like I was looking at a fucking stranger.
“I can tell you all of it,” she said, moving toward me. “I know that you won’t forgive me, but maybe it’ll explain a little why—” She reached out to touch my arm and without thought, I knocked it away.
“You get kidnapped?” I asked, staring at her. “Been held in a hole the last three years?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Amnesia?”
“No, I—”
“Witness protection?”
“No, I wasn’t in witness protection,” she replied, exasperated. “Would you let me speak?”
“I already know how it played out,” I said with a huff. And I did. I knew exactly what had happened. I would’ve bet every dime I had on it.
“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “After ten minutes with us, you just know everything.”
“Not everything,” I ground out. “When is his birthday?”
“February sixteenth,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “He just missed Valentine’s Day.”
“Has he started school?”
“No, he hasn’t started school,” she muttered incredulously. “He’s not old enough.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I should’ve known that. “What’s his favorite thing to do?”
“Play in a sandbox or dirt. Second favorite is playing with cars. Any cars, big, small, whatever.”
“Favorite color?”
“He doesn’t have one yet.”
“Favorite food?”
“Pizza.”
“What—” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “What was he like as a baby?”
“He was a mama’s boy,” she replied softly. “He wanted to be anywhere I was. Happy. He slept good from the beginning.”
“Was he big or small?”
“Huge,” she said, sniffling a bit as she smiled. “He weighed nine and a half pounds when he was born.”
“Tell me somethin’ else,” I demanded.
“What?”
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know to ask about,” I said in frustration. I’d missed it all. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to know.
“He sleeps in bed with me,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. “He drags my old pink blanket around like it’s one of his limbs. He doesn’t like the crust on anything, so he won’t eat it. Um… he always wears sunglasses outside because he says it’s too bright even when it’s overcast. That’s why I put them on him when I sent him outside.”
I shook my head and stared at the floor. It was just bits and pieces. I didn’t know him. I looked at him, and I loved him, but I had no fucking clue what he was like.
“Please,” she said, walking toward me. “Let me explain.”
I glared at her. “I don’t want our boy’s first memory of me to be us fightin’,” I ground out. “So let’s table this for now.”
“I don’t want to table it,” she argued. “I at least have the right to actually tell you what happened.”
“You bailed. You have no fuckin’ rights,” I shot back, struggling to keep my voice down.
If she’d argued again, I could’ve maintained my distance. If she’d stayed frustrated and earnest, I would’ve been able to shut her down. But as what little fight she had drained out of her, and her chin began to tremble, I was thrown back to our senior year of high school when she’d shown up after a particularly bad fight with her parents, hollow-eyed and sad.
“You’re absolutely right,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m just so glad that we’re finally here.” She dropped her face into her hands and shuddered with a suppressed sob. “God, it took so long.”
I’d never been able to see her cry without doing something and I supposed I still wasn’t able to, because before I realized what I’d done, my arms were wrapped around her. She pressed her forehead against my chest and shuddered.
“I know you won’t forgive me,” she murmured. “I know. But we’re finally here.”
“Shh,” I whispered against the top of her head. Jesus, how had it been three years since the last time I’d felt her against me? How had so much time passed? It seemed impossible. Her hair felt the same, but I noticed now it got caught in my beard.