Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
When I get in the car, Rachel asks for me to put Frozen on, followed by Gabe, who is begging me to put on anything else but Frozen . He groans and moans the whole way, which is ten minutes past the point I almost jumped out of the car into oncoming traffic.
When we pull into the parking lot by the field, I see that Jake is already there. I look over at Kaleigh and mutter under my breath that it’s a cold, cold day in hell, I suppose. We all get out of the car and Rachel runs over to him, her arms flinging all over the place. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she screeches right before he leans down and swings her in his arms.
Gabe runs over to them, also hugging him on the side. Jake wraps one hand around his shoulder, squeezing him and kissing his forehead.
I don’t stand around to hear their conversation; instead, I open the trunk, taking out our two soccer chairs. I walk over to the side of the field where the bleachers are. I say hello to a couple of people but not really making eye contact with anyone. I’m just not in the mood for small talk today.
The phone buzzes in my hand once more while I open the chair, and then one more time when I sit down.
Did you get the address?
Did you get the message?
Where are you? Why haven’t you answered?
I don’t have time to respond before another one comes in.
Are you watching porn?
I put my head back and type back.
Yes, and you’re disturbing me.
I press send and look over to see that Jake is leaning against his car, typing away on his phone. Then my phone buzzes again.
Jesus, do you ever stop?
I roll my eyes, crossing my legs, looking over to see Kaleigh and Rachel bending down.
Nope! Leave me alone. I got the memo. I’ll get your clothes. I think I can handle it.
I put the phone in the cup holder once the game starts. I clap when the kids run onto the field, yelling, “Go, Gabe, go!”
I’m not alone for long before Jake sits down in the empty chair beside me.
“You’re looking good, Laur,” he says, using his nickname for me from when we were married.
“Yup,” is all I say, because my phone buzzes again. Three times, then four. I pick it up, reading it quickly.
What time will you be in?
I need it for noon!!!
I have a meeting with the developer from the club that will be opening in three weeks.
Are you there?
I groan and type back.
I’m not on the clock, therefore it doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with, for that matter. See you tomorrow at 8!
I look at the phone, seeing the bubble come up with the three dots. I wait. It goes off then comes back, then goes off again. Then the text comes through.
Who you’re doing? I thought you were divorced?
I turn the phone off, so I won’t answer or know if he answers.
“So, how is it being back in the job force?” Jake asks, opening a bottle of water and drinking it.
“Jake, I have to be nice to you in front of the kids so they don’t think I’m a bitter bitch. But when it’s just the two of us”—I point to him then me—“I don’t have to be nice to you. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll dispense with small talk. I don’t want to talk about my day, my job, if I’m doing okay, if I have a date, or really anything at all with you. So, if you’ll excuse me, I want to watch Gabe’s game.” I look to the field. “In peace.”
Jake doesn’t say anything else to me for the rest of the game. We sit in silence as we watch Gabe’s team win. When the three whistles ring at the end, I see Kaleigh roll up her mat and walk over to us.
Jake kisses both kids and promises to see them next weekend. It’s his weekend, which means I get very familiar with my wine glass, my Kindle, and my couch. Netflix is also on deck for a big ol’ marathon!
I’m so excited to do absolutely nothing that whole weekend, I almost skip to the car.
By the time the baths are over and everyone is tucked in, I turn my phone on to set the alarm. I have five messages, all from Asshat.
Hello???
Did you get my messages?
Why aren’t you answering me?
Your professionalism is laughable. I don’t even know why I still have you as my PA. Do you even know what PA stands for?
Unbelievable! Just get my clothes.
I want to write him back to go fuck himself, him and his pencil dick, if he can even find it.
I whip the covers off and march to the hall closet, where I take out Gabe’s practical joke box he got for his birthday last year.