The Good Love Collection Read Online Lauren Blakely , Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
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I shake my head. The list has given me whiplash at times, but in a surprisingly good way. “No. She presented me with an opportunity. What I did with that opportunity was up to me. Or it should have been.” I take a beat, letting my thoughts take shape fully. “I understand that you were trying to be protective and kind, but . . .” I swallow. “Do you know how often I’ve wondered what was going through her head after the crash? Wondered what she was thinking when I was lying there unconscious and she was awake and not sure if I was going to make it?” My voice falters, tripping over itself.

“I told you, she couldn’t stop talking about you,” he says, just as wobbly. “She—”

“It’s not the same,” I cut in. “It’s just . . . not. You’re right—I probably wouldn’t have felt up to tackling that list, not for a long time, but having it with me . . . being able to put it up on my fridge and look at it every day when I went to get cream for my coffee . . . when I went to physical therapy . . . when I was still struggling to get around Brooklyn in a wheelchair. It might have made a difference then. Back when I was empty and lost.” Tears slip down my face.

“I’m so sorry, Ruby.” He starts toward me, but I hold up a hand and he stops mid-step.

“I know you are, and . . . I’m not mad, not really.” I pull in a deeper breath, swiping the tears away, and I square my shoulders. “I’m just sad. And disappointed. And . . .”

And what?

24

RUBY

But as soon as I ask the question, the answer comes.

Determined is the word on the tip of my tongue.

I am determined.

Determined not to let this new grief break me. To stay the course. Claire set this in motion, Jesse helped me get started, but this journey is mine to finish. And I have to do that on my own.

I’m okay with it.

Truly, I am.

Just like I was sure I could go to the movie alone, now I can finish the list by myself.

That’s what I need to do.

“I think I should go,” I finally say with that determination. With strength. “The ferry runs until midnight, right? If you can give me a ride from there back into the town we passed a few miles back, I can catch a train to New York. I saw an Amtrak stop.”

He shakes his head. “Please, Ruby, don’t. Can’t we work through this?”

My lips curve up a little. “Of course we can. And we will, but I have work to do first. I need some time, Jesse. To think. To feel. To . . . deal with my shit because it’s mine to deal with.” His eyes well with sadness, but I won’t let them sway me, either. “Like you said earlier about the whole ‘who can say’ thing. I can say. And it’s time I did.”

“At least let me drive you home,” he insists. “I can get another room tonight, and—”

“I’d rather not,” I say gently. “No offense, but I’d rather not be around you right now. Especially not four hours in the car. I need space for feelings that don’t have anything to do with you.”

He holds my gaze for a long moment while my heart squeezes sadly in my chest. But then he nods and whispers, “I’ll go, then.”

“No—”

He gestures to the gorgeous room. “Please. I want you to have this. Consider it part of my apology. Stay, enjoy the room and the pool and . . . I think the hotel has a shuttle at the end of the ferry to take you to the train station when you’re ready, but I’ll check for sure before I leave.”

“No, I’ll handle it,” I say. “I’ll either get a shuttle or call a taxi. I can figure out how to get to the station by myself.”

Jesse’s mouth hooks up on one side. “Of course you can. You can do anything you set your mind to. I truly believe that, Ruby. I don’t doubt it at all.”

“Thanks,” I say, tears stinging my eyes again, but I don’t let them fall. I sniff and cross my arms over my chest and hold myself together as Jesse grabs his things and heads for the door.

“Bye, Ruby.” He casts one last look of longing my way.

Part of me wants to run into his arms.

But that part doesn’t have the wheel.

This part does—the new me. The me I am on the other side of loss, the other side of rehab, the other side of pain.

As soon as the door closes, though, I do cry—hard—for a good twenty minutes. Then I pull myself together, make a bowl of popcorn in the room’s mini-microwave, and head down to the movie with my eyes still puffy. I spread my blanket on the lawn and settle in for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, one of Gigi’s favorites.


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