Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
God-fucking-dammit, I’d said too much. I didn’t want him to see my anguish, how vulnerable I’d been—
“Who the hell judged you?” he asked incredulously. “What’re you talking about?”
And this was why. Because he’d never fucking seen it.
“I don’t think your sisters like me much.”
“What? Why wouldn’t they like you? Don’t read too much into it. They’re standoffish at first.”
He’d dismissed me every time I’d brought something up, as if the notion that some might not like me was absurd. But his sisters hadn’t only been standoffish. They’d been catty and obvious as fuck, from high-school level once-overs quickly followed by whispering to one another, to waiting till West left the room to drop comments like, “Must be comfortable to have a man like West to support you, huh?” and “Do you ever feel bad for not being able to contribute as much as our brother?”
I was saved by the kids reappearing outside their rooms upstairs, and I took a step back and swallowed.
“Forget I said anything.”
“I found his goggles!” Ellie declared triumphantly.
West stared at me for a beat longer, but as the kids reached us, he had to shift his focus.
Under normal circumstances, I’d never wish for my children to get out of the house, but today was an exception. My head was completely fucked, and I just wanted them out of here so I could throw my body to the wolves that were the Sons of Munster. Because I was suddenly beyond fucking desperate to belong somewhere. To be wanted somewhere.
CHAPTER 3
West Scott
Iwasn’t going to cancel the date.
I wasn’t.
If I turned into a backslider after two years of keeping my word to myself, all this agony would be for nothing. I’d promised myself to stay firm. Alfie and I did not belong together. I’d asked for the divorce for a reason. Or several. And his being upset about my possibly moving on didn’t mean a goddamn thing in the end.
Did he think I was new here? That I wasn’t going to pick up on all the shit he kept from me? Every fucking week he dropped the children off, they had anecdotes and stories to share. I’d built up a version of Alfie he insisted didn’t exist, and what had I learned just these past twenty-four hours? Oh, I could not have been more correct.
“Daddy, look at me!” Ellie called out.
I looked at her and made sure to smile. “I’m looking, princess.”
She beamed and took a few steps back, and then she ran forward and made a big splash in the pool.
Trip stayed in the other end, where he was snorkeling and picking up colored rocks from the bottom.
“I’m gonna swim really fast now!” Ellie declared once she resurfaced. “Watch!”
I always watched. I fucking had to, with that one. My reckless little monkey.
Alfie and I had taken them to swimming lessons the moment they’d been old enough, though the ability to swim didn’t matter with our daughter. Maybe in a year or two, I could duck inside for those thirty-second trips to the bathroom or to get popsicles, but not yet. Trip was rhyme and reason personified, and he dutifully sat on the stairs when I announced I was heading inside for one reason or another. Ellie, on the other hand, wanted to bargain and negotiate. Just one more jump! I’ll be careful when you’re not here! But, Daddy, pleeeaaase! I can swim, you know!
No, little miss. You sit on the stairs with your brother until I get back.
I blew out a breath and sat up in my lounger. The sun was starting to dip lower. Within the next twenty or so minutes, the foot of the lounger would no longer be in the shade of the canopy above. And my parents would arrive shortly too.
My stomach tightened with unease and doubt. Not a single part of me wanted to go get ready for dinner with Lance.
I wanted to stay here and overthink about Alfie. Fucking hell, he’d messed me up for all eternity.
The first year away from him had been a reprieve fueled by anger and heartbreak. I’d been so done with his bullshit that I hadn’t wanted to know a damn thing about what was new in his life. I’d uh-huh’d and mm-hmm’d my way through Ellie’s dinner ramblings about Daddy’s new house and whatnot. I hadn’t wanted any details whatsoever.
With one exception. I’d asked, from time to time, about Daddy’s friends. If he’d made any new connections. Because Alfie hadn’t had many of those in the past. Two best friends from high school, Kellan from college, and one of his cousins. Not the surprise cousin I’d spotted on Alfie’s couch today.
Who the fuck was he?
I’d seen him somewhere, not at family get-togethers.
Alfie had two cousins on his mother’s side and two on his father’s. He was mostly close to Alberto—the two had grown up together as Alfie and Albie. Alberto had kids the same age as Trip too, so we’d met up with them quite often for barbecues and picnics. And not once had I heard of a cousin named Finn.