Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I turn around in his hold and look up into his bloodshot eyes. “It’s okay. You needed it and that’s all that matters.”
He doesn’t reply but holds me closer and lets out a deep breath. When he finally releases me, he takes a look around the kitchen and notices breakfast there waiting for him. He cringes at it and then looks back at me with regret. “Thanks, babe, but I don’t think I can handle food for a few hours.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure. Don’t worry, I’ll eat it,” I say, opening the cutlery drawer to pull out a knife and fork.
Picking up the plate, I make my way into the living room and sit down on the couch with my legs crossed. Miller comes and joins me on the couch while I eat, sitting beside me in silence, lost in his thoughts. I’m no mind reader, but I’m certain about where his thoughts have led him this morning.
Finishing my breakfast, I lean forward to place the empty plate on the coffee table, and as I do, Miller grabs me and lifts me onto his lap. I loop my arms around his neck and give him a soft kiss. “I think you should give Tank a call. He’s worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that this morning,” he says, dropping his face to my shoulder. He takes a deep breath before his pained tone cuts through the room. “Will you come home with me? I know it’s not the best circumstances to meet my family, or what’s left of it,” he scoffs. “But I can’t do this without you.”
I pull him tighter against me. “I’ve already packed our bags. There’s no place I’d rather be than by your side,” I whisper. “I figured I could take care of the funeral arrangements if that’s okay with you and your mom. It’s just one less thing you have to worry about.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says, shaking his head.
I take his face in my hands and make sure he truly hears me. “Organizing a funeral is hard enough on its own, let alone doing it for your baby girl or little sister. Your mom is already going through enough pain. I just want to do anything I can to make this a little easier for her . . . for you.”
“I don’t want to burden you with this, but at the same time, I would do anything to make this better for Mom and take away what little pain I can,” he says, conflicted.
“It’s okay,” I tell him as I look deeply into his eyes, hoping he can see just how serious I am about this. “Let me handle this. Talk to your mom. If she’s not comfortable with it, then I’ll back off.”
He takes another deep breath and searches my eyes before giving me a slow, pained nod. “You let me know if it’s too much and I’ll take over,” he says, brushing his knuckles down the side of my face.
“I promise.”
Miller holds me for a moment longer when I decide it’s finally time. “Come on,” I tell him. “Your mom is all alone at home, and she needs you more than ever. Why don’t you go call Tank and then we can get going after that.”
He lets out a heavy breath and raises us both off the couch before placing me down gently on my feet. He walks to the front door and spots our bags, grabbing them in one hand while digging through his pocket for his phone. I watch him out the window as he loads up the SUV for me and presses buttons on his phone to search for Tank’s number.
I do a once over around the house, making sure all the windows and doors are locked, then head back down to the kitchen and wash up my dishes from breakfast. Once I’m finished and ready to go, I grab my handbag off the counter and take a seat in the living room, flicking on ESPN while I wait for Miller to finish his phone call.
The screen lights up with the highlights from the Dragons’ game last night, and I listen as the reporter states that it was one of Miller’s best games. He comments how it must have been one of the best nights of his life, and I shake my head at the screen, my chest aching.
I hear Miller scoff from behind me. “If only they knew, right?” he murmurs, scowling at the screen before turning his gaze on me. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I say, picking up the remote and turning it off.
I follow Miller out the door and take the keys from him. “What are you doing?” he asks, attempting to take them back.
“After how much you drank last night, I can assure you that you are still way over the legal limit, and considering the circumstances, there’s no way I’m letting you get behind the wheel,” I tell him, hoping I’m not crossing too many lines with him this morning. I know he’s going to have to break at some point. But still, there’s no way he’s driving today.