Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Heaven forbid the West Point, Distinguished Honor Grad, perfect, moral, by-the-book Will Carter actually slum it with Morgan Bartley. I guess Prom Queen wasn’t the resume he was looking for.” Her head fell as her shoulders rose, and I stood. She gasped for a few breaths and then shot me a glare that had my ass back in the seat.
“And then he had the nerve to drive down right before he deployed and tell me that he wanted to try.” She laughed, but it wasn’t happy. “Finally, after years of loving that man, he wanted to try. But not then, of course. Heaven forbid Will act on a feeling. No, he wanted to try when he got home from that deployment. But I figured, hey, I’ve waited eight years for him, so what does nine months change?”
Everything, I answered myself. Even though I knew the end of the story, I kept waiting for her to give me the happy ending that she deserved.
“And he kissed me good-bye,” she said softly. “And he went. Twice. I only ever kissed him twice. He died two weeks later, saving Josh and Jagger’s lives, and as it happened, he told Josh that Jagger had to live for Paisley.” She dropped the sledge completely. “The man I loved with my whole heart gave his life so one of the women he loved could have her husband.”
“Holy shit, Morgan, I’m so sorry.” My fucking chest ached for her.
She shrugged, like it wasn’t a damned tragedy. “It was noble, right? But that was Will. I’ve spent the last two years wondering why I wasn’t enough to make him want to live.”
I stood, unable to keep still any longer.
“That’s on him. Not on you,” I said softly, more than aware that I was treading in dangerous territory.
“But what does it say about me that two years later I’m still so fucked-up about it that I have to be treated for a grief disorder? Why? Because I still think it’s so fucking unfair that everyone else in our group of friends got their happy endings at the expense of mine? What kind of person thinks that? What kind of person can’t talk to her best friend because all she wants to do is scream that it’s not fair? That everyone acted like my heart didn’t matter—I didn’t matter. Paisley didn’t even tell me herself, or even think about me. Ember had to tell Sam to call me. That’s how I found out he was dead. And I know Paisley’s husband was wounded, but a lifetime of friendship didn’t afford me a moment of consideration from anyone but Sam and Grayson.”
My jaw flexed as she tugged the safety glasses free and threw them on the counter.
“God, how can it still hurt so much after all this time? He never even loved me. I don’t even have the right to grieve him like this,” she cried, and I moved.
A few seconds later, I was around the bar and in front of her, gripping her arms lightly so she’d look at me.
“Morgan, grief isn’t a measure of how much someone loved you. It’s the measure of how much you loved them. You have every right to feel however the hell you want to feel. Do you understand me?”
She swallowed and looked up at me from under the brim of his cap. The man who I’d never met and would never want to. How could anyone be stupid enough to turn down Morgan’s love?
“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears, and I pulled her into my arms, resting my chin on her head as she cried into my chest.
“I know you don’t.”
“I want to be happy and to have a heart that’s worth risking. I miss my friends. I miss him, but then there’s you, and I want to be ready for whatever this is, and it all just jumbles in my head.” Her sobs shook her shoulders.
“I’ll wait for as long as you need me to,” I promised her again. “You don’t have to factor me in to your healing. I’m not going anywhere.”
She cried herself out, then stepped back and wiped her tears away with a dusty forearm that left streaks on her face. And still, the woman was beautiful.
“I’m sorry. I probably should have asked how your day was,” she muttered.
“Other than the fact that my ex threatened to sue me for custody of Fin, it’s all good.” I shrugged. As terrifying as the threat was, I logically knew that no judge would give her custody.
“Oh God. Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But it’s okay. It won’t happen.”
She swallowed. “Do you want a hammer? It might help to break a few things.”
I grinned. “Why don’t you sit down over there and wait for your ice cream, and I’ll demo the rest of this?”