Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
And I didn’t need a glass.
I unscrewed the top and took a long swig, waiting for the relaxation to hit me.
My parents had come to visit me in Glitz exactly one time, the day of Lance’s funeral. They’d shown up, not to support me, but to remind me that this wasn’t my home, wasn’t where I belonged.
They used the death of my husband, my childhood sweetheart, and the only man I’d ever loved, to try to convince me to give up and go back home. “Where you belong,” my daddy insisted with his trademark scowl.
They didn’t care that I hadn’t lived in Moose Hook since I was nineteen, since I’d followed Lance to Illinois for Navy Basic Training.
We married almost two years later before heading to San Diego for another assignment and then finally moved to Coronado for BUD/S training, where he achieved his dream of becoming a SEAL. I’d spent almost as much of my life outside of Moose Hook as I had within the town’s narrow limits.
None of that mattered to my ultra conservative family who believed a woman had no business living alone. They didn’t care that I’d spent months on end alone while Lance was on assignment doing good work for the government.
Of course, it was all highly secret, and he couldn’t tell me about those missions, not even once they’d ended and Lance had returned safely to my waiting arms again.
What they cared about was how things looked to their judgmental friends. Apparently, a widow needed to either come home to live with her parents or marry someone else right away.
For the sake of propriety.
“Give me a fucking break!” I stomped around my empty living room and repeated it. “Give me a goddamn fucking break!”
It felt good to say it out loud, even if no one was around to hear me.
Over the years, speaking my mind was something I struggled with but in the months since I lost Lance, my love, my partner in life, I realized that if I didn’t get my feelings out now, I never would.
Better late than never, sweet cheeks.
I couldn’t help but smile whenever Lance’s voice came to me, lifting me up and forcing me to be the strong woman he always saw within me. It was so hard when he was alive. My parents were always a shadow. But now, without him, I had to become that woman for him—and for me, and I was determined to do so.
That started with finding a way to keep me busy. Between Lance’s military pension, life insurance, and the fact the Ashbys paid off the mortgage to this enormous house, there was no practical reason for me to work. But I wanted to work. No, it was more than that. I needed to.
For now, I contented myself with playing nursemaid to Kat Ashby. She seemed to want that from me, even though she had more than enough money to hire private help.
Kat seemed to appreciate having me around, and for now, that was enough. Taking care of her after her own brush with death was a relief because I had no clue what I wanted to be when I grew up.
During our marriage, my life had revolved around making life easier for Lance. I loved keeping up our home, whether it was a tiny studio apartment in Libertyville, a slightly larger studio in San Diego, or a nicer two bedroom just outside Coronado.
Being a homemaker had been my full-time job my whole adult life. Other than flipping burgers and waiting tables as a teenager, I hadn’t ever had a real 9 to 5 job. Ever.
“And it’s beyond time to change that,” I said to the oversized fireplace as I chugged on the bottle some more.
Kat wouldn’t need my help forever, and I might lose my mind trying to find things to do around the house all day.
“A list. I’ll make a list.” I was talking to the four walls, but so what, if it got me moving.
I grabbed my tablet and started to tap out a list of things I needed to do to get my life back on track. The first item was to find a job. It didn’t matter to me what kind of job, just something to fill my time. Maybe I’d go to school and get trained to do something meaningful. Something that mattered.
The phone rang, jarring me out of my thoughts. I considered not answering it, but then saw who was calling and decided to answer after all. When I heard Maisie’s voice, I smiled.
“Maisie? Shouldn’t you be in the middle of Sunday dinner with your family?”
“Have you been kidnapped?” she asked with a laugh. “If so, say rottweiler, and I’ll send the guys for you right away.”
I blinked and looked at the phone, then tapped the speaker button. “What are you talking about? Have you been kidnapped?”