Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I hit forgot password, change it to something I'll remember, and when the screen shows my account my eyes widen.
Thousands of notifications.
I click on the first few.
I don’t know any of these people.
I know I probably shouldn’t read them.
I go down the rabbit hole anyway.
Most call me a slut. Others say that by taking the pill I’m basically committing abortion. I scroll to older messages. People from college and what not who have come out of the woodworks, wanting to grab dinner, oh and bring Asher!
Yeah, right.
I'm so sure we need to catch up based on the fact that you sat behind me in Journalism 101 for a semester.
I’m so engrossed that I don’t hear Asher approach.
"That’s exactly why I don’t have one of those." He looks over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I huff, closing the lid. I didn't think he'd be off the phone so soon. “How's your Mom? Does she hate me now too?”
“Of course not,” he smiles.
"This is humiliating," I throw my head in my hands. "How long do you think until it passes?"
"Juicy things take a while," he sighs.
"It’s annoying when they make things up, but this is actual fact. They saw me buying those pills. We need to stop doing..." I wave my hand in the air, "… that on impulse when I forget to refill my birth control."
“Don’t be absurd,” he grins. “What’s the worse that can happen?”
“I end up getting the morning after pill and the entire world sees.”
“Or next time you just don’t,” he goes to kiss me but I pull back with a look. “What?" He shrugs. "There are worse things that could happen." I don't know if it's my expression or what, but he clears his throat. "On second thought, I don't know if I can handle two of you." He reddens.
“I’m definitely not having a kid right now or anytime soon” I nervously laugh. This conversation has taken a weird turn. “Besides, I'm pretty old fashioned. We’re not even married!”
"Yeah, you're old fashioned all right," he rolls his eyes. "Need I remind you that you went and bought the morning-"
"No-" I scowl, not need any reminder.
We fall silent.
“So marriage, huh?" He runs his fingers through his hair in that way he does whenever he gets nervous.
I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn't.
"Chill, I was just having a joke." He fidgets. "But seriously, stay off social media," he nods towards my computer. "It’ll drive you crazy."
He hesitates for a second more before heading in, leaving me wondering what the hell that was all about.
One things is for sure, this all makes for an interesting Thanksgiving when a few days later, Mom, Dad, Ben, and Asher's Dad and his family all arrive.
It's just as embarrassing as I feared, and Mom won't let it go.
She's mortified.
Everyone at temple, including Rabbi Aaron.
Her work friends.
My grandmother.
Aunts. Cousins.
Everyone saw it.
As if I didn't know. I haven't been able to leave my apartment since that stupid photo got plastered everywhere.
December
Asher is going to be the host and musical guest on a comedy sketch show this Saturday night for their Christmas episode.
He’s exhausted, getting up early and having these crazy long days. I feel bad. Here he is working his ass off and I'm home doing nothing but hiding.
His schedule is packed. Friday morning before rehearsals he's hitting the talk show circuit. He's booked from 5am all the way until Late Night films, and then he heads over to 30 Rock. I thought this break from the tour was going to be like a vacation for him.
It's still dark out when I get up to briefly see him off. Once he leaves my head hits the pillow, but I can’t get back to sleep. The bed feels empty without him. It's strange to think how that used to be the norm. Now I can't imagine not seeing him everyday.
Jess comes over around 11. She convinces me not to be a hermit forever. She's a good pep talker. We watch a couple of movies, but by late afternoon she has to go.
Once she leaves I decide to go for a walk. Jess is right, I’ve been staring at Central Park for so long it’s time I man up. Plus, I do plan on being in the audience tomorrow night for Asher's show. I figure I better see what it's like going out now. My own sort of dress rehearsal.
Our doorman is amazing and kind.
"You're in the clear Ms. Harris," he smiles. "They followed Mr. Montgomery this morning and the rest gave up."
I smile wide and rest easy.
The air is fresh but cold. It smells like snow, even though it hasn’t done so yet. I cross the street and head into the park, wandering until I end up at my favorite statue. I sit on the nearest bench and find our balcony. It reminds me of being out there the other day when the picture first came out and Asher and I had that talk. The first and only time we ever spoke about kids and marriage. Our future.