Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
What was I even doing with her? How long could I expect her to keep running around the country to meet me for a night or two, lying to her family about where or why, knowing that there was absolutely no future for us? She’d told me what she wanted—a husband. Children. A family. She wanted kids so badly she was considering donor sperm so she could have them on her own, sooner rather than later.
The thought of some guy’s stuff anywhere near her made me want to throw a kitchen chair through the window. I had to lean on the edge of the sink and take several deep breaths to calm down.
But it wasn’t fair, what I was asking of her. The lying and the secrecy. Spending time with me she should be dedicating to her business. Giving me her attention instead of looking for the one who could give her what she wanted. I knew in my bones how unfair this was.
And yet, I wasn’t ready to give her up.
In a cupboard I found a random can of chili that hadn’t expired, dumped it into a bowl, and stuck it in the microwave. One more weekend, I vowed as I waited for it to heat up. One more secret meet-up and then we would break it off.
She texted me as I was rinsing my dishes.
Are you home yet? Want to call me?
I hit her name in my recents.
“Hello?”
I smiled at the sound of her voice. “Hey, gorgeous. How was your day?”
“Good! My dad took the day off and we started painting.”
“Oh yeah?” I took my phone into the bedroom and sat on the mattress.
“Yes, and remember that woman I told you about? The seamstress with all the wedding dress experience and the amazing references? She accepted my offer!”
“That’s great.”
“I’m so relieved. I still have a few people to interview for the sales positions, but that’s the job I worried about the most.”
“So everything is coming together.”
She laughed. “It might be a little too soon to say that, but things are off to a good start.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. How was your trip home?”
“It was fine.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just tired.”
“Same,” she said with a sigh. Then she added softly, “And I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said those words, or even experienced the feeling. I wasn’t in the habit of missing people—and that was on purpose. But later, after I’d showered and climbed into bed alone, her absence gnawed at me like a physical ache.
I scowled into the dark. This was not supposed to happen.
On Thanksgiving, I went to Jackson and Catherine’s house, even though I feared feeling like a fifth wheel at their dinner table. But their house was warm and welcoming, and it smelled delicious when I walked in. I handed Catherine a bottle of wine and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for having me.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Go tell Jackson to make you a drink. I kicked him out of the kitchen because he kept getting in my way.”
“You don’t need any help with dinner?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got the girls. You men can be on dish duty after we’re done.”
“Sounds good.”
I found Jackson in the family room watching football. “Hey,” he said from his leather recliner. “How about a beer?”
“Sure.”
“They’re in the fridge over there.” He gestured to a wet bar along the wall. “Help yourself. I’d get up, but I don’t feel like it.”
I grinned and grabbed a bottle from the small beverage fridge beneath the counter. Popping off the cap, I sank onto one end of the couch.
“So what’s new?” he asked, lowering the volume on the flatscreen.
“Not much.”
“You’ve been quiet lately.”
“Have I?” I tipped up my beer.
“Yeah. Are you going to tell me what it is that has you so preoccupied or should I guess?”
I set my jaw and shrugged.
Jackson laughed. “Okay, we’ll play this game. I think it’s the girl back in Michigan. The one who sent you the care package. I think you’re still hung up on her.”
“I’m not hung up on her,” I said defensively, although that’s exactly what I was.
“But you’re still thinking about her.”
I took a long pull from the bottle and decided to be up front with Jackson. “If I was just thinking, there wouldn’t be a problem. Or at least, it wouldn’t be so big.”
“You mean you’ve seen her again?”
“Twice,” I confessed. “She met me in New York in October and in Vegas this month. We’re meeting up next weekend in Chicago.”
“Jesus, Zach.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t even know.” I shook my head. “It makes no sense. She’s too young for me. She’s my son’s ex. Every time we meet up, she has to lie to her family about what she’s doing. And when I go visit Mason and Lori at Christmas, we won’t even be able to see each other. If we do, we’ll have to pretend there’s nothing between us—and I’m not sure we’ll be convincing.”