Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
It’s no wonder I have so little confidence. I’ve never thought I was pretty or smart or strong, and as a result, I’ve lived my life afraid to make decisions, take chances, or stand out.
Wanting to make the right decision to please my parents, I pushed away four wonderful men who treated me with respect and kindness. I made them feel like there was something wrong with their chosen career, and that they somehow weren’t good enough for my family.
What a joke. My family isn’t good enough for them.
If only I’d figured that out sooner, before I ended things with them. They even tried to give me a second chance, and I rejected them twice.
I’m too wound up to go back to my apartment, so I drive off the island and into Whitman where, for lack of a better idea, I park at the harbor and watch boats return to the dock as the sky fades over the water.
I’ve been a complete idiot, but I try to resist beating myself up about it. You live and learn, as the saying goes. Maybe the next time I find a man, or men, that I’m attracted to, I’ll be better prepared to be a good partner to them. A little more confident and more mature. Surely there are more men out there equally as wonderful as the Stanton brothers, right?
But what if I’ve passed up the best men I’ll ever know?
Even though I’ve resolved to be kind to myself over my bad decisions, I must actually want to torture myself, because instead of going home when I get back on the island, I turn toward Club Red.
The parking lot is crowded, as it always is on show nights, and I immediately get an image of the crowd of loud and horny women that are surely inside, all begging for attention from the men on stage. Even though I had no good reason for driving here, the sight of the club does remind me that there was more standing between us than my parents.
I would never ask the men to change anything about themselves for me, so there’s still the issue of my discomfort with all of their fans lusting after them and how that makes me feel. In a way, those nameless women would have been part of our relationship, and I still don’t see myself learning to be comfortable with that.
It’s another kick in the gut. Maye some small part of me thought that now that I’d seen the truth about my parents and realized how wrong I’d been, that I could somehow fix things with the men. Maybe I thought I could march into their club, tell them I want them back, and we’d live happily ever after.
But I’d have to march past their legions of fans to get to them, and anytime we’d be out together, there would be women wanting pictures, wanting to flirt with them and touch them. The men would see that it bothered me — even though I’d work really hard at not letting it bother me — and what if they insisted on giving up their club for me? I could never, ever let them do that, and I don’t want to be the reason they’d even think about it.
I make one more circle around the block, and realize my thoughts are as pointless as my driving route. Things are done between us.
It wasn’t meant to be.
It was the best time I’ve ever had in my life, and now I’m paying the price for letting my heart get involved.
36
Closure
As December goes by, I continually try to reframe my sadness into a learning experience. Yes, I may be miserable, but at least I’m growing as a person. The Stanton brothers helped me see myself and my world differently, and for that, I will always be grateful.
To help distract myself from near-constant thoughts of the men I miss so much, I ask Maddy if I can come in early or stay late at the bakery and help out more in the back. Since it’s the busy holiday season, she’s very receptive to the idea, and teaches me how to decorate cookies and frost cakes. My results are messy at first, but I put in a lot of practice on paper and on leftover items, and eventually I do well enough to assist on actual customer orders.
It helps keep my mind occupied, and it’s going well, until the morning she says, “Oh, we’ve got a fun one today.”
At first, I don’t think anything of her comment. I helped her make gender reveal cupcakes with pink frosting injected inside, and those were pretty fun, but then I notice her tone. “Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, my body instantly on alert.
“More of these,” she says, setting a cookie cutter on the counter in front of me. It takes a second for me to make sense of the aluminum shape, but it soon becomes crystal clear.