Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Millie, wait,” Brock says, catching up to me with Willow in tow.
I cross my arms over my chest, swiping at a few tears. “What?” I ask him.
“I like the idea of you and Tripp. I can see it.” He nods, like his approval is what’s been holding Tripp and I up. And who knows, maybe it is.
One thing I don’t see out here on this sunny day in Magnolia Ridge, is Tripp. He didn’t chase out after me to declare his love.
Does he really even love me at all?
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. We’re not together.”
Willow smiles, her long, curly hair blowing in the wind. “The Atwood men are sometimes idiots, and do idiotic things. Give him time.”
Brock laughs at Willow’s words. “Not all of us are idiots, but Tripp sure is. He really wrote a book?” Brock raises a brow.
I nod. “Yeah. And it’s a good one.”
Willow does a low whistle as she smiles up at Brock. “She owns a bookshop, so she would know if it’s good or not.”
I laugh, despite my tears. “It’s really really good.”
Brock eyes me with concern in his features. “Give him some time, Millie.”
I shake my head. “He hurt me today. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”
Willow smiles at Brock, nodding her head back at the party. “Can you give us two a minute?”
Brock nods, giving me one last look. “See ya, Millie,” he says before walking away.
Tears sting at my eyes once more, and I raise my chin, trying to keep them from sliding down my cheeks. “I’m fine,” I tell Willow.
“I know we’ve never been that close, and I’m dating your ex, but I think we can become friends. I know what you and Brock had is nothing like what you and Tripp have.”
“Had,” I remind her.
She gives me a lopsided smile. “Tripp is the youngest of a long line of stubborn men. Men who are there for each other. Men who are so into each other’s lives they know everything about each other. Heck, sometimes I think the men know more about Brock than I do.”
I giggle slightly. “Probably.”
“Tripp was keeping something huge from his family, and he needs time to adjust.”
“He hurt me,” I say, the tears slowly falling now.
Willow steps closer. “I know, and he’s going to have to grovel hard for what he said to you, but he will grovel, Millie.”
“I don’t want him to grovel.” I picture Tripp on his knees right here in the parking lot, groveling, and what I would say to him if he did.
Willow smiles. “He needs to grovel for you, Millie. You’re worth it.” And then Willow does something unexpected, she hugs me. “You’re worth the fight, Millie.”
I appreciate her words. I really do, but I don’t think what Tripp and I have is fixable. Even with an obscene amount of groveling.
I told him about my family, and how sad I feel for not having a family of my own to turn too.
The tears fall harder and faster as I spot Tripp stepping out of Atta Boy’s, his familiar silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of the bar’s neon sign. My heart clenches, a knot of emotions tightening in my chest. I break the hug I’ve been holding with Willow, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
“I’ve got to go,” I tell her, my voice wavering despite my best efforts to sound casual. Before Tripp can close the distance between us, I hop into my car, slamming the door shut and fumbling with the keys. My hands shake as I start the engine, pulling out of the parking lot so quickly that the tires kick up a small cloud of dust behind me. The Atwood’s, and everything else in Magnolia Ridge, disappear in my rearview mirror, but the weight in my chest refuses to lift.
I need time. Time to think. Time to process everything. The sting of Tripp’s presence, the unresolved feelings that swirl inside me like a storm. It’s too much, too fast.
My phone pings on the seat beside me, and I glance down. Of course it’s a text from Tripp. My stomach twists at the sight of his name on the screen. Without hesitation, I turn the phone off, unable to face whatever words he’s sent. I toss it onto the passenger seat and grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to steady my breathing as I drive out of Magnolia Ridge, the town fading into the distance behind me.
I don’t know where I’m headed, but I can’t stay here. Not with him. Not with everything so raw. I can’t face anyone right now.
The interstate stretches out before me, a lifeline pulling me away from the chaos inside my head. I take the exit toward Saint Pierce, the familiar road offering a strange kind of solace. The soft hum of the tires on the pavement is the only sound that breaks the heavy silence inside the car, but even that feels distant. All I know is that I need space.