Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I guessed now we were going to discuss it.
“I was taken aback that was where he was at,” I told him, leaning forward to rest on my forearms on his chest, my face closer to his. “It’s been a long time.”
“I mourned her like she was dead,” he shared, and I knew he was talking about Grace. “I wasn’t unaware we had problems. We had a lot of words. We fought. I didn’t ignore our issues, and it got under my skin she wanted me to. She was angry I couldn’t get where she was coming from. But since the bottom line of it was she didn’t love our daughter, I was angry she couldn’t get where I was at with that. Still, when she left, even with all of that, years of it, it was a blow. I grieved. And then I realized what I was grieving. What I felt for her was dead. And I stopped grieving.”
That made sense.
“What I felt for Angelo is dead too. I’ve considered this, and part of me actually would like to be one of those women who’s forgiving. Who understands faults, and that everyone is human and they make mistakes. But my home life growing up felt precarious. My mother never truly neglected me. I was fed and clothed and went to school. She’d even ask if I finished my homework. But there was no warmth and love. I’d ride the bus home from school and think, when I got off, I could just walk in another direction and keep walking, never going home and she might not even realize I’m gone.”
“Jesus, Larue,” he whispered.
I nodded. “It sucked, and it still sucks and it’s not okay. It never gets better. I didn’t have a mom to show me the way to raise my girls. Not just know it from experiencing it growing up, but someone to talk with to get advice. To make sure I was doing things right. And I won’t have someone to go to when they get married or have babies. Someone who understands, who was there before me, who’d be there for me when I deal with the things I’ll deal with when that happens.”
I ran the backs of my fingers along the fullness of his whiskers at his jaw and kept going.
“I was too young with Warren to understand what I needed and communicate it to him. That doesn’t make him betraying me okay, but I was older and wiser with Angelo. I’d reflected on why I refused to work on it with Warren, and I told Angelo up front. He’s lead singer and guitarist of a rock and roll band. I knew his reputation. I was even famous for ‘taming’ him. So, I knew I had to make it clear. That was a deal breaker. That was something I couldn’t get beyond. I needed to feel absolutely safe and wholly part of our family, our marriage. And he still did it to me. But when it’s gone, it’s just gone, Bohannan.”
“Yeah,” he murmured his agreement.
“I know that’s a tall order, to put that on anyone. When he was trying to talk me into working it out, he told me it put him under a lot of pressure.”
“It’s not a lot of pressure.”
“Life happens, Bohannan.”
“It’s not a lot of pressure, Larue.”
“I—”
He put a finger to my lips.
I shut up because that was cute and hot and annoying, all rolled into one.
“You don’t forget what people say to you,” he told me and removed his finger. “Not when it’s important. He was not fucking a woman who was not you and then, later, brushing his teeth and thinking, ‘Oh shit, I forgot. I told Delphine I wasn’t gonna cheat on her.’ That isn’t how it works.”
I felt my lips twitching because that was kind of funny.
“He knew he was doing wrong. He knew what it would mean. He did it anyway. I have no clue why he did. But he knew. That pressure bullshit was to deflect responsibility to you. The vast majority of people do not know the intricacies of the law. But they know right and wrong.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“So you’re over him,” he deduced.
I smiled. “No. Right now, I’m over you.”
His hands slid up my back.
My eyes slid to the folder on the nightstand.
“Stop worrying,” he murmured. “I’m not the lead investigator on the case.”
My attention returned to him. “I’m not worried about the case. I’m worried that you’ll be worried about the case in taking time to string up lights and play host and be awesome and make my daughters feel safe in leaving me in your hands. You make it look effortless, but it’s not.”
His brows lifted. “Be awesome?”
I treated him to an eye roll. “Shut up.”
This time, his beard lifted.
I stared at him.
He sighed, pushed to sitting more upright against the headboard and took me with him.