Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Emily: I’m alone.
Tristan: Can I call you?
Emily: Sure.
The phone rang a minute later.
I picked up. “Hey.”
He spoke softly. “Hi.”
“What’s up?”
“Did you have a nice birthday?”
“Yeah. It was a great day, actually.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I feel so dumb.”
“How could you know if I never told you?”
“Still not cool. I should’ve investigated on my own.”
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t understand why you’re upset.”
“I don’t understand it myself, but I felt like shit all day because I couldn’t celebrate with you. It made me feel like we were strangers. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He sighed. “I guess old habits die hard. Or maybe…” He paused. “Sometimes they don’t die at all.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, even if I knew exactly what he meant.
“Can I come over?” He exhaled. “I got you something.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Is it okay if I stop by and give it to you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in about fifteen.”
I did nothing but nervously rearrange things until I saw Tristan’s car pull up in front of my house.
Opening the front door, I watched as he exited the car and approached holding what looked like a large basket. The moment I saw what it was, I covered my mouth in disbelief. “What the heck?”
“I can explain…” He laughed.
Staring back at me was the biggest rabbit I’d ever laid eyes on. It had long floppy ears and was the size of a large cat. It was sitting on a pile of pink flowers.
Oh my God. Pink peonies.
“Let me preface this by saying my idea was to get you a cute little bunny to mimic the dream you told me you had when you were thirteen.”
I continued to look down at the rabbit in shock.
“Anyway, I called a bunch of shelters, and one finally assured me they had a bunny. I told them it had to be little and have floppy ears. Those were my main conditions. They obviously lied about the little part. So I committed to coming to pick it up, not knowing how damn big she was.” He sighed. “I felt bad, so I took her anyway.”
“She? Does she have a name?”
“Bertha.”
“Oh my gosh. She looks like a Bertha.”
“Pretty sure she’s half dog or something.”
I snorted as I lifted the rabbit out of the basket. A bunch of the peonies flew around, falling to the ground as Bertha resisted being held. I took her into my arms anyway. “This rabbit is several pounds bigger than the one in my dream.”
“I figured that.” He sighed. “I can take her back. I—”
“No way! I would never allow you to do that. I will love on this creature for as long as I live. She’s staying with me.”
“You don’t have to keep her.”
“How the heck did you remember that dream anyway?”
“I’ve paid attention to everything you’ve ever told me. You’ve opened up in bits and pieces, so when you do, I make sure I’m listening. That dream left an impression on me. It made me feel a little sad but proud of you at the same time. You’re right that your dad doesn’t deserve the time of day or your tears.” Tristan scratched between Bertha’s ears. “I always had it in my mind that someday I was gonna get you that damn bunny and the peonies, too. Your birthday seemed like the perfect opportunity. And it would’ve been really great if the shelter hadn’t fucked me over.”
I giggled. “Even if she’s not the bunny of my dreams, she’s the rabbit of my life.”
He looked back over at his car. “Well, good. I brought you everything else you need for her. But I couldn’t carry it all in because it would’ve ruined the effect.”
“Pretty sure Bertha herself ruined the effect.”
He nodded. “She is bigger than the basket.”
“I don’t know what to say. This is so sweet, yet so bizarre.”
“If it turns out you can’t handle her, I’ll take her.”
“And how are you gonna take care of a rabbit while you’re on tour?”
“I’ll hire someone to do it.”
“I forgot you can just do that. But it shouldn’t be necessary.” I kissed between her ears. “We should be fine, huh, Bertha?” The rabbit tried to wriggle out of my arms. “But you’d better grab the other stuff so I can take her inside. She’s getting a little rambunctious.”
“On it,” he said, running back to his Range Rover.
After a moment, Tristan carried in a three-foot exercise pen, along with a bunch of food, alfalfa hay, and other supplies. He’d apparently spent the afternoon researching what I’d need.
After we arranged everything in a corner of my bedroom, he asked, “Where’s your mom?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“I’m surprised we didn’t wake her up.”
“She’s a pretty sound sleeper. She uses a white noise machine.”
He poured some pellets into a bowl. “Did you ever tell your mom the truth about us?”