Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I change into comfortable clothes, silence my phone, and curl up on the couch while Gentlemen Prefer Blondes plays in the background. My eyes are on the screen, but I’m not watching. It’s just on to fill the void. To keep me company. To remind me that there are still things in this world that I love.
Even if Bennett can no longer be one of them.
There’s an ache in my chest, a deep void that wasn’t there an hour ago.
And then it hits me—he didn’t have a heart, so he stole mine.
48
Bennett
“We’re just waiting on Dr. Rathburn, then you’ll be free to go,” the nurse at my check-up says the following afternoon. She shuts the door to the exam room, and the plastic pharmaceutical company-branded clock over the door jolts.
Honor’s school dismisses in fifteen minutes, but it’ll take at least twenty minutes to get there by the time I leave. Longer if there’s traffic.
I’d originally given Eulalia the afternoon off because Astaire had planned to bring Honor home with her after work, but given yesterday’s events, obviously that isn’t going to happen.
Five minutes pass.
Then ten.
Still no Dr. Rathburn.
An hour ago, I called Eulalia to see if there was any chance she could come in this afternoon, but she was already in Gary, visiting her nephew.
Left with no other choice, I text Astaire and ask if she can bring Honor home today.
At exactly 3:01pm, she texts back with a “yes.”
Nothing more, nothing less.
* * *
Honor’s glittery backpack is the first thing I see when I get home. When I round the hallway, the second thing I see is Astaire.
“Hey.” I place my keys on the kitchen counter.
Her purse is hanging from her shoulder. It’s hard to say if that’s because she just got here or because she wanted to be ready to leave the instant I came home.
“Thanks for bringing her home. My appointment ran long,” I say.
“Not a problem.” She avoids eye contact. “She’s in her room playing.”
Silence invades the space between us.
“Did you get my calls?” I ask an obvious question. I’ve been calling her since the moment she left last night.
“I did. And your voice mails and text messages. Got them all.”
“Okay. So … can we talk about them?”
“Nope.” She eyes the foyer and drags in a breath that makes her shoulders shudder before finally turning her attention to me. “You are the worst kind of person. You use people and you lie and you’re beyond cruel. I’ll stand by my promise to be there for Honor in any way that she needs me—but you and I are finished.”
“Astaire.” I move closer to her. “If you’ll let me explain.”
She places her hand out to stop me. “You’re only going to tell me what I want to hear. But I’m not interested in that. I want the truth. And that’s not something you’re capable of giving me. So, no, Bennett. We’re done.”
I let her go one more time—but it’ll be the last time I do.
I said what I said to Errol, and she heard what she heard. I can’t take that back. And I can stand here and explain until I’m blue in the face if she’d let me, but at the end of the day, it isn’t what you say—it’s what you do.
I have to show her what she means to me.
49
Astaire
“Hey, stranger, long time, no see!” Ophelia wraps her arms around me the instant I walk into her namesake bar Friday night.
I needed to get out for a bit and now that Bennett has Honor, I figured this would be a safe place to seek refuge for a couple of hours. Besides, sitting around stewing and feeling sorry for myself gets old after a day or two.
“What are we drinking?” she asks.
“Gin and tonic.” I take a seat at the bar. I’d order that lemony champagne drink the last bartender made for me, but I can’t remember the name to save my life.
“Eduardo, get the girl a gin and tonic.” Ophelia raps on the bar top. The scent of roses and violets wafts from her as she moves, and her lips are the brightest shade of pink I never knew existed.
This afternoon, Honor asked if I was coming over tonight. She didn’t press it when I told her I wasn’t, and it didn’t seem to upset her. Fortunately, she’s too young to understand that the dynamics between Bennett and myself have changed.
I’ll always be there for her. Always.
Ophelia trots to the other side of the bar and mixes herself a martini with two stuffed olives. “So, I heard you’re seeing Schoenbach.”
“What? Where’d you hear that?” I ask.
The first time I met Ophelia, I never gave her my name. The second time I ran into her here, we had a quick chat by the ladies’ room and I took the time to properly introduce myself. There’s a warmth about her, and she’s one of those people you meet once and feel an instant connection with.