Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“This is Libby we’re talking about. She’s all about being a girl. I think it’s going to be a hit. She’s bringing something new to the neighborhood and the business. Your father and I have been really impressed by her plans.”
I’m not surprised. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s a hard worker. I know that with her running the shop, it’s going to be successful.
“Go to her. Talk to her,” Dad says. I look at him. “She’s probably at the shop right now. She’s been there every day, getting things ready for the grand reopening.”
“When’s that?”
“In two days,” Mom says. “She’s having a big party to celebrate. Your dad and I will be going to show our support. Maybe you can come.”
“Maybe it’s best I talk to her before then. I don’t want to ambush her at her party and ruin it for her.”
“Either way, I’m sure she’d like to see you,” she says solemnly.
I let out a deep breath.
“Are we okay?” I ask, looking between my parents. My dad frowns while Mom’s brows pull together. “I know you were both disappointed in me for not wanting to take over the shop. I hate that I let you both down.”
“You haven’t let us down. We’re proud of you, proud of the kind of man you are. All we want is to see you happy, Antonio. We would never try to force our own dreams down your throat.”
“I am happy—or I was.” I was happy until I ruined things with Libby, until I proved to her once again what an asshole I can be.
“You’ll get Libby back and find happiness again, son,” Dad says quietly.
Fuck, but I hope he’s right.
If he’s not, I don’t know what I will do. I thought that I loved my ex, but it didn’t feel like this. I’m in love with Libby. I know that if I can’t find a way to get her back, I will never find the kind of happiness and love that she gave me again.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
I get up and hug both my parents before heading out the door and catching a cab.
When my driver parks across the street from the pizzeria, I start to pay my fare, but then I see Libby walk out of the shop wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a simple long-sleeve T-shirt. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and her face is clean of makeup. She looks over her shoulder at a man walking out of the pizzeria behind her and smiles at him.
Walter . . . ? What the fuck is he doing with her, and why the fuck is she smiling at him?
I fight the urge to get out of the cab and bash his face in.
I absently rub my chest over my heart as they head down the block.
She’s moved on. She’s already moved on. I let things go too long, and she started seeing someone else. How the fuck did I lose her already?
“You gonna get out, man?” the cab driver asks.
I pull my attention away from Libby and shake my head.
“No, I changed my mind.” I give him directions back to my place.
When I get home, I change into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then head out for a run. I need to get out some of the rage coursing through me. I know that if I don’t get rid of it I’m liable to do something completely stupid, like go to Libby’s apartment, kidnap her, bring her back to my place, and tie her to the bed until she forgets all about stupid fucking Walter.
Two days later, I’m parked in front of Princess Pizza and wondering what the hell I’m doing. The last two days have been hell. I haven’t slept and barely ate. I’ve spent most of my time trying to convince myself that if Libby is over me, then I need to get over her. But no matter what I say to myself, I can’t do it. I’m in love with her, and it’s time that I prove that by fighting for us. I called my mom this afternoon and asked her what time the party was this evening. Paying the cab driver, I get out and head into the pizzeria.
The space looks completely different from the last time I was here. The walls have been painted two different shades of pink, and there are new tables with black tops and chrome seats. Colorful framed paintings hanging around the room look like they were done by little kids. Fairy-tale castles, dragons, princesses and princes, horses and unicorns. I pull my eyes off the new art on the walls and scan all the happy faces in the room. I have no idea how the fuck I talked myself into this.