Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
He makes a noise but doesn’t comment otherwise.
“Why are you here anyway? I’ve already told you I’m not giving up the cabin. It’s not up for discussion, and you don’t even like it there.”
“It has sentimental value for me now.” He crosses over to the kitchen table and pulls a chair out. It scrapes loudly across the floor. “Aren’t you going to offer me coffee?”
“No, because I’m not inviting you to stay. This needs to stop, Gabriel. You can’t keep coming over unannounced and expect me to drop everything for you. If this is part of your strategy to win me back, it’s pretty piss poor.”
He drops into the chair, his expression remote. “I see you haven’t calmed down since I was here last. I thought giving you some time to think would be enough, but apparently elevated is your new favorite state when I’m around. You know what might help?” He steeples his fingers under his chin and smiles serenely.
“You leaving would do the trick,” I snap.
He pushes out of the chair and crosses the room in two quick strides. I take a step back and end up against the fridge. Gabriel grabs the handle and boxes me in with his other hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” My heart slams around in my chest. Gabriel was a lot of things when we were married—controlling, subversive, mean, spiteful, and at times verbally abusive—but he was never violent.
“You seem nervous, Clover. What are you hiding?” His expression shifts, and he leans in.
I duck out from under his arm and spin away from him, putting distance between us. “How else am I supposed to feel when you keep showing up uninvited?”
He plucks something from the counter.
A crane.
“This is an interesting new hobby.”
“Stop touching my things.”
He leans against the counter and inspects the paper crane. It’s made from a Scrabble score sheet. Thankfully the number on it is not particularly visible. “When exactly is Sophia going to be here? I didn’t see her car in the driveway.”
“It’s in the shop. Your welcome is worn out, Gabriel. I need you to go. Now.”
“Why must it always be a fight with you?”
“Why must it always be mind games with you?” I shout.
“I don’t deserve this anger. Everything I did, I did for you.”
“Everything you did, you did so you could control me.”
He sighs and drops his head, shaking it slowly. “I love you, Clover. But you are making it exceedingly difficult to be nice. I gave you space for a year. I didn’t come after you, and I could have—should have, even. The only person you’re making this harder on is yourself.” He takes a step forward, and I pick up the closest heavy object, which happens to be a ceramic gnome I painted when I first moved to Pearl Bay.
They have a little store in town where you can paint and cure things. I don’t really want to ruin it because it marks the beginning of me reclaiming my life, but I’m starting to feel like Gabriel is losing his mind, and I could end up in the trunk of his car if I’m not careful.
He sets the crane on the counter and gives me a disapproving look. “What are you doing?”
“You need to leave. Now.”
“Good God, love, have you lost your mind?” He has the audacity to force his expression into a worried frown. “What are you honestly going to do with that?”
“Lob it at your head if you don’t leave, after which I will call 911 and tell them that my estranged husband is in my house and refusing to leave.”
His jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare. “Fine. Have it your way. But remember, this is on you when you realize you’ve made yet another mistake. When you eventually come to your senses, and you will, I may not be so nice about taking you back.”
“The bullshit that comes out of your mouth is astounding.” I hug the stupid gnome to my chest and follow him to the foyer, needing to see him leave so I can lock the door.
He pauses in the front entryway, gaze stopping on the red hoodie hanging from the hook—the one Maverick left here.
His eyes narrow. “Red isn’t your color.”
“It’s the school color.” Not untrue.
“It looks awfully big for you.”
He reaches out to touch it, but I smack his hand. “Keep your hands off my things. And oversized hoodies are all the rage. Please don’t stop by again unannounced. Or at all, really, unless it’s to drop off the signed divorce papers.”
He opens the door and pauses. “Aren’t you going to visit your parents over the holidays?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Of course not. Well, have a merry Christmas.”
When I don’t respond in kind, he steps over the threshold. It looks like he’s about to say something else, but I close the door before he can and lock it.