Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I slip on my robe and walk to the couch, turning on the television. Grabbing the throw blanket, I lie down. I put the phone on the table in front of me, and I don’t know when I drift off to sleep, but I wake up and see it’s after three in the morning. I get up, seeing that he texted me.
Manning: Hey, something came up. I won’t be able to make it tonight. I’ll call you in the morning.
I don’t bother answering it. Instead, I walk to my bed and slip into it and fall asleep. I get up angry, and I hate it. I walk to the coffee maker and start it, turning on the television while I do it. The movie from last night is still playing.
Grabbing my phone, I sit on the couch and open my Facebook. Using my thumb to scroll through my newsfeed, I see nothing good. I open Instagram, and the picture hits me right away. I see it’s from the Dallas Oilers. I started following them two days ago.
My hand shakes when I see Manning in some ridiculous sweater with a moose and his wife next to him. My stomach sinks, the sting of tears come now. His wife is wearing a leather skirt, and I use my fingers to zoom in just a bit. Her arms are around his waist as she smiles and his arm around her. The caption is what pushes it over the edge.
The captain and his wife at the team's ugly sweater party last night. A great time had by all.
I unfollow the team and then close the app. I get up and walk to my bedroom. I slip on my blue jeans with a white long-sleeve shirt. After grabbing a thick knitted gray sweater and my purse, I leave my house.
I look at the time and see that it’s just after eight o’clock in the morning. I also know that I rushed out of my house in case he just showed up this morning because I am not ready to face him. I’m not ready to see him. So I go to the bakery that I have been eyeing for the past two weeks. I pick up two boxes of sweets, and I head over to my parents’ house. I call my mother on the way there to make sure she is up.
“Hello,” she says, and I’m thankful she sounds awake.
“Hey there. I’m on my way over to help with lunch,” I lie to her. “I got some goodies.”
“Wow, you are up early,” she says, laughing. “See you soon.” I disconnect, and a ping shows me that I have a text. I pick it up and see it’s from Manning.
Manning: Morning. I’m so sorry about last night. I missed waking with you in my arms.
I throw the phone on the seat next to me, not bothering to answer. I know that I’m going to have to face the music, but I’m going to do it when I’m ready and not when he’s ready.
I walk into my parents’ house and see my mother already dressed as she stirs her pasta sauce. “It smells amazing in here,” I say, and she looks over at me.
I put the two boxes of pastries that I bought on the island. “How much stuff did you buy?” She comes over to me to hug me and kisses my cheek.
“You know what you always used to tell me.” I walk to get a cup and make a coffee. “Never shop when you're hungry.” I walk over to the fridge, grabbing the milk. “You were right.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I told you.”
I roll my eyes. “You also used to tell us not to go swimming after eating, or we would get a cramp and die.”
She gasps out. “I never said you would die. I said you would get cramps.” I laugh, and my father walks into the kitchen.
“I thought I heard your voice,” he says, coming over to me and kissing me on the cheeks. “Now this is what I want to see.”
“Me in your kitchen at nine a.m. on a Sunday?” I shake my head, and my phone rings from my purse. I walk over to it, taking it out and see that it’s Manning. I decline the call as my father turns on the television in the family room adjoined to the kitchen.
I hear the announcer. “The Dallas Oilers had an off night last night,” he says and then laughs. “But from the pictures all around social media, it was a fun night.” He throws up a picture with the whole team in sweaters. I see Manning in the back of the picture, his face filled with a smile as he stands with his guys. The next picture is of three couples, and there he is in the middle with his wife on his side. Okay, fine, he isn’t touching her, and she’s standing in front of him. The other two couples have their arms around each other. But the last one is the one that I stumbled upon this morning. “Our captain looks like he is having a great time, don’t you think?”