Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I think about responding and asking her stop, to say more harsh words to her so she’ll get the picture. I don’t want to hear from her. I don’t want to know about her work, what’s going on in her life, or how Noah won the Superbowl. I watched it . . . by myself. It would’ve been nice to have people over, but I don’t have any friends. I have Quinn, but he was at the game. I guess I had Quinn. I’m sure Elle has told him to steer clear of me. Any friends I had from the first company I worked for, went by the wayside when I started working for Elle. Since I’ve known her, I’ve kept everyone at bay out of respect for her family. I guess I should’ve known better because now I have no one. Ending things with Elle has opened my eyes to just how much of my life was dictated by her family. The sad part is, she wasn’t doing it, I was. I thought I needed to be a hermit to protect her.
Now, I enjoy it. I like not having to shower every day or worry about people stopping by. I appreciate being able to walk outside without people staring, wondering where they’ve seen us before. When I’m on the beach, people avoid me. They give me a wide berth. I think it’s because my hair is shaggy, and the beard I’m growing looks rather scraggly. I don’t like myself much right now, but I also don’t have the energy to change things.
I turn on the television and lie down on the couch. With the guide pulled up, I scroll until I find something interesting. Deep down, I know I should turn the TV off. I don’t pay for any of the apps on there. Hell, my “half” of the expenses don’t even come close to what gets paid by Elle for us to live here . . . well for me to live here. My name may be on the deed, but I can’t afford this place. She can. She pays for the lifestyle I’m used to. Yet, here I am, mooching off her because she would never kick me out. What does that say about me? Not much. I’ve ridden her coattails for as long as I can remember, and the one time I tried to break away, I went right back to her because I’ve been in love with her most of my life. I’m still in love with her but we can’t be together. If we can’t see eye-to-eye on something as simple as setting a date for our wedding, then how can we survive the marriage? I don’t see how we could.
My phone vibrates. I ignore it. It starts moving across the table indicating someone’s calling. Still, I don’t look. It’s my day off and there isn’t anyone I need to talk to, let alone want to talk to. It’s probably Elle. Although she prefers to text; she does call occasionally. I know I can’t continue to avoid her, but I’m also not ready to sit down and hash all the details out. I should probably start looking for another place to live. It’s either that or move back to Beaumont where it’s more affordable because Malibu is so far out of my price range, it’s laughable.
The doorbell chimes and I groan. I’m intent on acting like I’m not home, but when Quinn’s voice shouts my name, I know I don’t have a choice. With a herculean effort, I get up from the couch and make my way to the front door.
“You look like hell.” Quinn steps into the doorway, forcing me to move. He has takeout and the smell of chicken lo-mien makes my stomach roll. The food is from my favorite place, but the thought of eating doesn’t appeal to me.
“Thanks. It’s good to see you too. Why don’t you come in.” Quinn doesn’t hear me because he’s already in the kitchen pulling plates out of the cabinet. I stand there for a moment, looking out the door. I fully expect Elle to come around the corner, but she doesn’t. I don’t know if I’m relieved or saddened by the fact she’s not here with Quinn. After another minute, I finally close the door and make my way toward the kitchen, only to find Quinn sitting on the couch. If his sister were here, she’d yell at him for having his feet on the coffee table and eating food while sitting on her leather couch. But she’s not here, so I don’t say anything.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Quinn asks without taking his eyes off the television or his food. I can’t really tell.
“Yeah.” I don’t get up because I lack the energy to care. Quinn turns and looks at me for a moment. “Go eat.” It takes me a couple of seconds before I heave myself off the couch and make my way into the kitchen. He brought all my favorites, but none of it looks appetizing. Still, I take what I’d normally eat and grab a fork. I hesitate before going back into the living room, still expecting Elle to bust through the door any second and start yelling at us for eating there.