Husband Trouble (Bad For Me #5) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Bad For Me Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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“It’s complicated now,” I tell her without looking at her. “As I said, I have responsibilities.”

I can’t tell her about Orion. I can’t tell her that I was planning on giving up my job, my life, my financial stability, and my everything just to pursue a chance that I could be happy with someone else and their family. The family they were willing to share. I wanted that. I wanted adventure as well. Now that I’m sitting here, I realize I was about to make a huge mistake. I should have stuck to my guns. Maybe not the doubting part or the part that kept thinking everyone would hurt me eventually, but I should have realized how ridiculous I was being.

I would have done the same thing my mom did. The same thing I’ve basically hated her for from the bottom of my heart and for a very long time.

“Sarah?” My mom pods gently. “I know this is a lot. Too much at once, I’m sure. I wanted to tell you that I was wrong. I should have taken you with me. It wasn’t right of me to chase life and men and the illusion of love. None of that was real. The only thing that’s real is family. We’re a family—you and me. And we can be a family again. I’ll do anything I can do to prove that to you. That I’m here, and I’m back for good. If you want to stay here, I’ll stay. And if you want to leave, I’ll leave. I missed you so much. You’re my daughter, and you should have been my whole world, even when I thought you were old enough to have your own life. We’ll figure things out. We’ll make a fresh start together.”

I don’t believe her. I don’t want to believe her. Because believing her is dangerous. I don’t want to give credit to what she says about love and about it being an illusion and something that makes you feel good and a little silly. It also makes you believe that things are possible, but I know deep down how true that really is. How can I turn my mom away? She’s family. She’s my real, flesh and blood family, and she’s my mom, no matter what she’s done. Regardless, I don’t want to accept her apology, and I don’t want to be so quick to offer forgiveness. My brain is a mess, and my heart is even worse, and it’s utterly and entirely wretched.

So, of course, at my lowest, most confused, and terrible moment, that’s when Orion walks into the living room.

Fully dressed, thank the pickles.

No. No, pickles have betrayed me.

I don’t know how much he’s heard, but it’s obviously enough. He has his hands shoved into his jeans pockets as he studies me with a look of pure, painful uncertainty. His T-shirt is rumpled, and he has dark smudges under his eyes from not sleeping much all night.

“I think maybe I should go,” he says softly.

I stand up fast and bang my cup of coffee onto the coffee table, spilling it everywhere. I probably look as terrible as I feel. This is really not the time to talk about things. “Yeah,” I agree as I start to pick at one of my nails, which I never do. “Can I call you later? In a few hours?” When I know what the heck is going on.

“Of course.” I’m so relieved that he’s not going to try and talk me down or meet my mom or just…I don’t know. He understands that I need space right now, space and time to think everything over, and that’s what I’m thankful for. He leans in and brushes a kiss next to my ear but then whispers softly, “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you really want me to leave you alone?”

He straightens and looks me right in the eye, and I find myself nodding, even though I want to beg him to stay. I’m not fine. Nope, not even close. Will I be in a few hours? Heck no. Will I be in the future? Who freaking knows. Is anyone ever fine? Doubtful. Being an adult is mostly just wallowing from one misery and mess to another and learning that happiness can be real and amazing, but it, like everything else in life, doesn’t usually last.

“Okay. I’ll find a hotel, and I’ll be there.”

I show him out the door, and as he leaves, his eyes cloudy with doubts and stormy with mixed emotion, he tenderly brushes my hand, which makes me want to turn into a big bawl bag as I close the door on him.

I have to force myself to go back to the living room, and when I find my mom grinning, I want to give in to the prickle burning my nose. That’s another thing pickle juice could do to you. It could really go down the wrong way and cause some serious burn issues.


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