Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
This is some bullshit. In the last few months, I’ve done everything right. I made amends where needed, thanks to my nosy-ass wife, who seemed to think I needed training up or some shit. I was no longer allowed to seek vengeance against any asshole who crossed my path. According to her, she was looking out for my soul; I didn’t even know I had one.
Somehow, she caught on to the fact that it was me who’d run her ex and his mother out of town and had lit into my ass like hellfire. Too bad for her; the deed was already done, and there was no turning back. She’d given the alimony away to some runaway girl’s home or some such crap, not that I cared. If it were me, I’d have had a party and burned through all that shit while the ex was suffering, which he was now that he’d lost almost everything. Good riddance.
As for my family, they were thick as thieves, the whole lot of them, especially when they got caught up in the hell that was wedding planning. I gave her one day of my time with that shit and bowed out. I went to the cake tasting, and that was about it. I just gave her a card to the account that I’d opened for her and locked myself away in the home office that we’d made at her place out of one of the guestrooms and left them to it.
She was scared out of her mind when she realized she was pregnant, and that, too, I had to tell her about because she didn’t know. Apparently, she’s not too regular, whatever the hell that means, so when she missed her period, she didn’t think much of it until she missed the third one, and I had to pull her head out of her ass.
She argued me to death that it wasn’t possible until I rolled my eyes and dragged her ass to the doctor. For someone who didn’t know she was pregnant, she sure fell in line quick. Just as with the wedding, the women around me lost their damn minds and went into estrogen overdrive.
Nat, who was the busiest lawyer I knew, still found time to bring her ass to our place every chance she got to talk about weddings and gender reveals. When it wasn’t her, my relatives took up the slack, and I haven’t had a moment’s peace since then.
This one didn’t want to be showing in her wedding dress, so we had to speed things up. Then she wanted to lose weight for the wedding but couldn’t because she was pregnant. I made the mistake of telling her she looked fine the way she was, and you’d have thought I called her out her damn name the way she reacted.
Then I put my foot in it by suggesting she wait until after the kid was born, then she could lose weight and get married then. She had my whole family up my ass for weeks over that one. After that, I was done. I fed my kid all the shit the nutritionist suggested, rubbed her feet when she could no longer see them, and rubbed the creams the idiot woman she’d hired told us were good for preventing stretch marks into her growing tummy, but became dumb, deaf and blind to anything else because she’d lost her damn mind and I don’t speak crazy.
The wedding went off without a hitch, though all I cared about was the smile on my girl’s face that lasted through the honeymoon in Greece, where she said she always wanted to go. It was fun watching her let loose and enjoy life, which she was learning to do more and more these days because she had me in her corner cheering her on.
Some days it’s like watching a little bird break out of its shell, and it was thanks to Nat that I grew to understand how much she’d hindered and limited herself because of other people’s opinions. I must be half an ass because I never realized how much time people spent worrying about their weight and other aesthetic bullshit.
Don’t get me wrong, if she was unhealthy and doing stupid shit like gorging herself on salty, fatty, high fructose shit all day, every day, I’d have said and done something, but that’s just not the case. My girl eats healthy enough, so what if she likes to eat crap every once in a while? Who doesn’t?
These fuckwits apparently never heard of people who are just naturally big-boned or thick and lush, as I like to say. What the hell is she supposed to do if that’s the way she’s built? Starve herself to death? Assholes! Whatever.
Since I couldn’t be with her twenty-four-seven to knock the shit out of idiots that made her feel bad about herself, I instead worked on building her confidence, but I think I did that shit too well because she’s a damn terror now. The student had surpassed the teacher.