Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
THREE
GABRIELLA
I open my eyes and stare down at the hallway, my legs still weak from before. I don’t even know how long I’ve been sitting on the floor with my back to the front door. The minute I heard his bike roar down the street, all I could do was turn around and slide down until my ass hit the floor. It was as if my legs have been knocked off at the knees. Closing my eyes and putting my head back was the only thing I could do.
I wait for my heart to stop beating so erratically before I put my hands on the floor and push myself up, walking back to the kitchen. I slowly slip onto the stool, and the shock of seeing him now forms into anger. “What the actual fuck?” I hiss, and then I hang my head.
When I left LA, I had no idea what he was going to do. To be honest, I didn’t think he would beg me to come back. Did I want him to? I’d be lying if I didn’t say yes. But I knew that the chances were slim. I didn’t delete him on my social media, but I made sure that I never, and I mean never, mentioned the location I was at. I shake my head and then it all clicks into place. I slap the island with my hand, picking up my phone and calling Abigail.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I repeat over and over again. It rings four times before it goes straight to voice mail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Abigail. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.” I listen for the beep, my leg bouncing up and down with nerves as I wait.
The second I hear it finish, I demand, “You need to call me back ASAP.” I put the phone down and wait for her to call me back in a matter of six seconds. When I don’t hear the phone ring, I grab the phone and walk to the door, where I grab my bag. Walking out of the house, I rush over to my car, opening it and getting in. I drive over to Abigail’s house, hoping she calls me before I get there.
Pulling up to the house, I see her car is there along with Tristan’s. “Good,” I mumble, turning the car off before I pull open the door. I don’t even bother grabbing my purse. Instead, I just walk up to the black door.
I turn the handle and open the door, walking in. “Hello!” I shout from the entrance, looking up the stairs to see if anyone is there. The bedroom doors are all open, but the main noise is coming from the back of the house. I storm toward the kitchen and see the three of them in there.
Abigail is standing by the stove, with her pregnant belly front and center, in yoga pants and a tank top. She’s almost seven months pregnant, and although she looks like she’s carrying twins, she is not. Her eyes fly to mine, shocked that I’m here. “You,” I say, pointing over at Tristan, who is sitting down at the island. He is wearing a T-shirt and a baseball cap backward. His hands hold a sandwich that is halfway to his mouth. “You,” I say again, and his eyebrows now pinch together.
“Somebody’s in trouble,” Penelope says from her chair. Penelope is Tristan’s daughter from a one-night stand he had nine years ago. He only found out about her when she was two years old and the mother died, leaving a letter behind. “And that somebody is you.” She points at Tristan as she takes a chip from her plate and plops it into her mouth.
“What did I do?” he asks before he takes a bite of his sandwich.
“You put my name down on your baby announcement,” I accuse, shaking my head. “Instead of just saying thank you to my amazing sister-in-law for taking the picture, you actually tagged me.”
“We aren’t even married,” Abigail reminds me, “so technically, you aren’t his sister-in-law.” I turn to glare at her, and she holds up her hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Why?” I say, groaning again. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know,” Tristan replies. I’m sure he’s shocked that I’m even here since it was over three months ago. “Because you took the picture, and I was giving you the credit?”
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” I throw my hands up in the air. “None whatsoever.”
“Is she okay?” Tristan looks over at Abigail, waiting to see what she says, no doubt confused by this. Also wondering if Abigail even knows what is going on.
“I’m fine,” I hiss. “I’m just peachy.”
“But you don’t look peachy,” Penelope states to me, and I fold my arms over my chest. Abigail moves around the island to stand in front of Penelope, to protect her from my wrath.