Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
It was the first one on my list. The realtor showed it to me, and I bought it right then and there. All the money that I had saved up for the wedding became a down payment instead.
The furnace clicks on with a loud swoosh and clink.
Shutting the thin metal door to the box, I stare at it as the fire burns high and the sound of air running through the house kicks in.
I didn’t give a damn about anything other than getting as far away as I could without being so far that I’d lose my family.
Now here I am, all these years later, in a cold house, alone.
And pushing away the cute little sweetheart who made me happy for the first time in God knows how long. Why? Because I couldn’t give her an answer to “what are we doing?” that she’d accept.
I kick the basement door shut, feeling more and more pissed at myself, and head to the island to have a seat and call her, but before my ass even sits, the phone goes off in my hand.
And it’s her.
My breath stills for a moment, the only thought being that she’s telling me she’s not going to the wedding. I’ll figure it out one way or the other, but she’s coming. I’ll make it up to her… but she’s coming to that damn wedding, and I’m finally going to get a taste of my sweetheart.
I hit the button and answer the call.
“Hey there sweetheart,” I say easily as if I’m not tense and waiting for her to try to back out of this. As if I’m not trying to figure out exactly what I need to say. I’m not letting her go. I’ve fucked up so much in the last few years, but letting her walk away from me before I’ve had a chance to make a move on her isn’t going to be my next mistake. “Missed talking to you last night.”
“Charlie,” her soft voice pours through the phone, and the tone catches me off guard. It’s apologetic. I hear her breathe into the phone. “Look, before you say anything, I just want to say, I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have told you off-”
Oh fuck no. I’m not taking this lying down.
“Sweetheart, you can stop right there.” I can practically hear her sharp intake and see her sucking at her teeth. I’ve seen her do it before, when she’s worried about something. The picture in my head of her doing it makes me smile and I relax against the island, the granite cool on my forearms. “You aren’t backing out of our deal. You still haven’t even told me what you want and I can tell you,” I hesitate, remembering what she texted and feeling like this is a turning point and more importantly, like I’m risking hurting her. I’d rather risk that, than risk letting her go. Call me a prick, but I can’t let her walk away again like she did last night. “I really like you too.”
It’s quiet on her end. Too quiet. I don’t even know if she’s still there. Doubling down, I tell her, “There I admitted it. Now you have me by the balls, Grace.”
Her small laugh fills the phone. I can imagine her blushing.
“Well… I’ll see you soon then?” she says, like it’s a question.
“You better,” I tell her.
“Alright then, bye Charlie.” I realize as she says the words that I don’t like her telling me bye.
“Bye, sweetheart.” I don’t like telling her bye either. The phone clicks dead and I drop the phone on the counter.
I shake my head. This is bad. It’s real bad. I already like her too much. I already want to keep her.
Staring at my kitchen, I try to remember the last time I used it. I can’t keep her because we have different life plans. The biggest problem though, is that I don’t actually have a plan. Not one that makes me happy.
I text Grace on a whim, Do you like funnel cakes?
Grace
I dress myself to go to the Piedmont Park Festival in a strappy linen-colored cotton sundress. It’s my favorite. I twist around in front of the mirror in my bedroom, my mind on the upcoming event and a smile on my face.
It’s an outdoor festival. I chew my lip as I try to decide on a jacket, since it’ll be cool outside this early in the morning. A smile curves my lips up as I pick a light denim jacket, pairing it with light brown leather ankle boots.
I look in the mirror, and my expression twists. A pale redhead peers back at me, her blue eyes anxious.
Do I really look like that?
I need emotional support today, someone to lean on. I pick up my phone and scroll through the contacts and find Ann.