Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Heat crept up my cheeks, trekking to the tips of my ears. “I don’t want to say it’s because you help me, because you make me feel good, or even because you’re all I think about these days. These reasons feel so shallow.” I shook my head, grabbing the back of my neck. “If you asked me right now, I couldn’t give you a real answer. Just that… I love you because I love you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“I’ll take it.”
“But I won’t. I don’t know myself well enough to explain what it is I love about you. I just know I do. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. Shouldn’t I at least figure that out?”
All I remembered of my life was fighting—fighting Vera, fighting Tabby and Reggie, fighting in fencing, fighting Zach.
I didn’t know who I was without that.
I stared down at my Prada sneakers—one of my birthday gifts from him. It squeaked against the wooden desk as I kicked my feet back and forth.
I needed to do some soul searching, to put myself first before I could love anyone else. And he had a big mess that required cleaning.
Initially, I’d planned on telling him about Eileen, but he needed to hear it from her. And if he didn’t, if he stayed with her, then we were never meant to be.
“Let’s take a month apart. To deal with the things we need to deal with.” I leaned over his desk, grabbed a red Sharpie, and snatched the tiny calendar he never used, circling the date a month from today. “If you love me as much as I love you, you’ll come back to me, Zachary Sun. I’ll be waiting.”
He looked ready to hand me over to Dr. Sullivan to check out my brain.
Finally, he managed to grumble, “If this is what you want.”
I mustered a grin. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”
Inside, my heart crumbled like a stale cookie.
After a moment of silence, I hopped off the desk, sliding my hands in my pockets, unsure of how to exit. “I guess this is it.”
He didn’t say anything.
I waited a few more seconds.
Say something. Anything.
He didn’t.
With a sigh, I trudged out the office and down the steps. It wasn’t until my hand hit the front door that I heard him approach from behind.
“Wait.”
I paused but didn’t turn, holding my breath, tensing when something slipped into my hand.
An electronic key.
I flipped it in my palm. “What is this?”
“For the garage.”
I still didn’t turn. “Why?”
“I moved your stuff into there earlier.”
Oh, God.
I felt like a total idiot.
Here I was, telling him I loved him, and he’d moved my things into his garage?
We’d only been apart one hour since we’d landed—the time it took me to get from the airport to my childhood home and confront Vera and Andras.
I tried not to toss the key at him, studying the doorknob without really seeing anything. “Oh.”
“Text me when you plan to check it out, and I’ll leave.”
“Thanks.”
I needed to get out of here before I cried.
Without another word, I swung open the front door and sprinted into the frosty winter night, not sure where I’d go from here.
I made it halfway down the driveway—headed toward Dallas’ house—when I pivoted, ran back to Zach’s front door, and planted a kiss on the frosted window beside it.
I could’ve sworn, as I straightened up, a shadow jerked back from the other side.
“Bye, Zachary Sun. I hope I see you a month from now.”
T-MINUS 30 DAYS.
Nothing said rock bottom more than crying over a girl less than eight hours after she’d left.
Fine. There were no tears involved. But I barely managed to drag myself out of bed in time to bitch at Natalie for arriving to work a minute early.
“But you always expect me to show up early.” She pouted, bouncing from heel to heel. “Last time I arrived on time, you docked my bonus.”
I arched a brow, pulling up my email account. “Are you wearing shoes in my home?”
“You always let people wear shoes in your business wing.”
I began typing out a draft, requesting Eileen’s presence for a lunch meeting at The Grand Regent, during which I fully intended to call our wedding off. Speaking of…
I turned to Natalie. “Where’s my lunch?”
Unshed tears rimmed her eyes. “But it’s not even ten.”
She surveyed the room, as if she expected to spot hidden cameras.
Me, too, Natalie. Me, too.
Maybe this is all one elaborate prank and Octi will waltz through the double doors, strut to the Go board, and make a move.
I pressed send on the email.
Now all I needed was to inform Mom that I:
One) had gone to the Hamptons as she wished.
Two) fucked up any possibility of a future with her bridal candidate by literally fucking Farrow during dinner with Eileen.