Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
My son looked down. “I get it. It was stupid for me to even ask.”
I reached out and took his hand. “No, it wasn’t. It’s perfectly normal for a child to want his parents to be happily married.”
Ryan nodded. “That reminds me. What should I have said to Bella about her parents? I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, so I didn’t.”
“I think you can just give your condolences if you see her again. She talks about them a lot, and she’s okay with people mentioning it.”
“Crazy that she lost them both.” He shook his head. “And I’m sitting here selfishly asking if you and Dad might get back together. Puts things into perspective.”
“Yeah. But she seems do be doing well.”
My son smirked. “She looks well.”
I wrinkled my nose. My son assumed it was a general icky feeling a mom might get about her son checking out a girl.
He chuckled. “Yeah. Pretty sure my face would be the same if you were telling me some guy was hot.”
I winced inwardly. Pretty sure your face would be worse if I told you the guy I thought was hot was the brother of the girl you thought was hot.
***
That evening, I still hadn’t heard from Ford, and my text wasn’t showing as delivered yet. I was getting worried and reached out to Bella, albeit under false pretenses.
I knocked next door and she appeared in her uniform. “Hey.”
“Hey, Bella. Have you heard from your brother? Umm…I wanted to ask him to look at my sink again. He fixed it for me at the beginning of the summer.”
“Yeah. He’s in his room. Passed out, I think.”
I failed at hiding my surprise. “He’s home?”
She scooped her car keys off the kitchen counter. “Got home about an hour ago. Bombed off his ass. He was swaying. I’m surprised he made it up the stairs. I have to get to work, but feel free to wake him up. Although, I doubt he’s in a condition to fix anything.”
“Ummm. Okay. Thanks. Maybe I’ll just check on him and make sure he’s okay.”
She smiled. “Such a mom.”
I waited downstairs until she got into her car and pulled out of the driveway, and then I went up to Ford’s bedroom. Sure enough, he was out cold. Face down, his arms and legs splayed wide across the bed, he held his cell phone in one of his hands.
I walked over and whispered, “Ford?”
He didn’t budge so I slipped the cell from his hand and pressed the side button. Dead. Well, at least that made me feel better about why he hadn’t called. I walked over to the end table and plugged it in for him, then sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him sleep.
“Bad day, sweetheart?” I brushed a piece of his hair from his face. “You’ve been quiet since you went to Chicago. Probably hard to visit the building you and your dad worked on together, huh? A lot of memories.”
Of course he didn’t answer. After watching him sleep for a little bit, I took off his shoes, got a bottle of water and a couple of Tylenol from the bathroom, and left his hangover helper at his bedside.
I leaned down and kissed his cheek gently. I felt a tightening in my chest as I realized in a few days I wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. God, I’m not ready for this to be over.
Chapter 25
* * *
Ford
My lungs burned, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
I wasn’t even sure where I was. I’d gotten up at the ass crack of dawn with a belligerent hangover. Tylenol and two bottles of water did nothing to ease the pounding in my head. I couldn’t even remember getting home. I remembered sitting at the airport bar, pounding vodka tonics and ordering more on the plane. After that, it was pretty much a blur. Somehow I’d managed to get on the right train and made it into my bed. On any other day, if I’d woken with this kind of killer headache, I’d have turned over and gone back to sleep.
But this morning, I needed to feel more pain. So I’d gone out for a run. And I’d run. And run. And kept on running. I’d run until I ran out of beach, then kept going—weaving my way through side streets and passing houses and blocks as fast as I could.
Finally, my legs gave out on me, and I fell.
So here I was, sitting in the middle of a park I’d never seen before, on some block I’d never been to, panting and bleeding from a scraped-open knee. My head still fucking hurt, but the burn in my lungs felt even better.
I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head dropped between them.
My fucking father is a cheater.