Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She reaches out and takes my hands again, squeezing tighter this time, with more confidence. “Your father’s upstairs watching baseball. You should go say hello.”
“Yeah, I will.” I hold her hands for another second, wanting so desperately to have a good relationship with my mother.
But eventually, she lets me go, stands up, and putters around some more. She puts dishes away, sips her wine, and I drift from the kitchen.
Back home. Back into the silences. The long, lingering resentment, the bitterness, the anger. They’ll never acknowledge it. God, my mother looks older than I remember, and I wonder with horror if this is what will happen to me and Finn one day, if we’re destined to this domestic decay.
Or if we’ll never get a chance to find out.
I miss him so much already.
“What’s it like, being home?” Kathryn’s voice sounds tired.
“Not great,” I admit. “Mom and Dad still barely talk to each other. Mom didn’t even know I was coming because Dad never mentioned it.”
“God, that’s awful.”
“I know. I want to say I’m used to it, but I’m kind of still not. They’re my parents, you know? I want to think they love each other, but I’m pretty sure they’re together because neither of them wants to be alone at this point. I don’t think I’ve seen them say more than two words to each other in the last week.”
Kathryn sighs. “I’m sorry. I really am. Have you heard from, you know?”
I grimace. She avoids saying his name like it’ll summon the plague. “He told me not to contact him and I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“How are you dealing with that?”
“I don’t know. It’s really hard. I keep thinking he forgot about me, but it’s only been a week, right? Things couldn’t have changed that much in a week.”
“There’s no way he forgot about you.” She tries to sound strong and I love her for it. “He said he’ll fix it, so he’ll fix it.”
“I have to keep on believing, otherwise I’m stuck here forever.”
“At least you have his Amex.”
“Good point.” I glance at the closet full of brand-new clothes. Another new wardrobe. “I’m getting kind of tired of replacing all my stuff though.”
“Liar. You love it.”
“Okay, yeah, I mean, the mall is the only halfway decent place in this town.”
“Go buy me some stuff. There’s a Fendi, right?”
“Not exactly. I think there’s a guy selling bootleg Fendi from his car, though.”
“Close enough.”
I laugh, grinning to myself. Talking to Kathryn on the phone’s the only thing keeping me sane. Without her, I think I would’ve lost it completely already.
We chat some more about what she’s been up to, but I hear the doorbell ring downstairs. It’s a little past eight at night and there shouldn’t be anyone showing up right now. “Hey, I should go, I’ve got to get the door. I’ll talk to you later okay?”
“Love you,” she says. “You’re doing great. Just keep it up.”
“Will do. Love you too.” I hang up and head down the steps, humming to myself. Dad’s sitting in front of the TV drinking a beer and squinting at a baseball game. “How many of those do they play?” I ask him.
“A lot,” he grunts though his bushy gray beard. “Who’s that, anyway?”
“Don’t know,” I say, tugging open the door. “Let’s find—” I turn and my jaw drops open. I try to make a noise, but I’m too stunned to form words.
“Hey, Dar,” Lucas says, scratching at the back of his head sheepishly. “I guess I’m the last person you wanted to see, huh?”
Chapter 41
Dara
“Lucas?” I say through my teeth. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He grimaces. “I know it’s weird, but can we talk for a minute? I have a lot of explaining to do.”
“No fucking—” I glance back at my dad. He’s frowning at me, concerned, but too lazy to get up and come over. I lower my voice. “Come on.” I shove Lucas back, step out onto the front porch, and slam the door. “Sit down.” I point at a pair of chairs tucked to the side.
Right now, I’m channeling my inner Finn, pretending like I’m big and bad and bossy. It helps that I’m feeling very murder-y at the moment.
Lucas slumps into a chair with a groan.
I remain glaring down at him, arms crossed over my chest.
He looks terrible. His hair’s buzzed short and he’s got huge bags under his eyes. His clothes are dirty and sweaty, like he’s been wearing them for days straight. I glance past him toward the driveway, but there’s no car, and I have no clue how he got here.
My mind’s racing. Why would Lucas show up at my parents’ house now of all times, and how the hell did he even know I was here? Worry races down my spine and mixes with suspicion as a strange sense of danger wells up from my stomach.