Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Yeah, about a month,” she replies, “but time to get glamified.” She taps the counter with her newly manicured nails. “How is Levi?”
And there it is, the reason she came to say hello to me. I shouldn’t be surprised since I introduced them. Never thinking she would be on rotation with him, also never caring, except for now. Except right now at this moment. “He’s good.” I don’t really know what to say.
“Is he now?” she asks or tells me, she knows that we are best friends. “It’s been a couple of weeks since we’ve hooked up.” She talks as if my world around me isn’t being shaken to the core. “Which is strange.” She leans in. “We were a weekly thing and now it’s spaced out.” She shrugs. “I’m going to text him and see if we can hook up tonight.” Blood drains from my body as I pretend that it’s fine. It’s not fine. This is what people must feel before they either have a stroke or become the Hulk. It’s a fifty-fifty. Also, I’ve never fucking felt so on edge before, like my hand itches to slap her.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll call you this week,” I toss back without meaning it.
“He better.” She smirks at me. “I swear he’s got the best cock of life.” All I want to do is fucking throat punch her.
The girl comes over with my shake, and in my head I picture throwing it in her face. “If you excuse me, I have someone waiting,” I tell her, walking away from her, my knees almost knocking together.
The rest of the day is a blur, and even when I pick up Cici it feels like I’m in a daze. A text comes through from him right as I walk in the door.
Levi: Looks like something came up and I’ll be late.
I toss the phone on the counter, not bothering to answer him. Because what am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to ask him why? Am I supposed to be all up in his business? Am I supposed to care? Obviously, I care, but I’m not this person who is going to second-guess themselves for a man. “We are going to be okay,” I assure Cici as she smiles at me and babbles. She keeps saying Mama over and over again, the pain less and less each day. She thrives and I know that is the only thing Lisa would care about. “Aren’t we, baby girl?”
Our night routine is a bit different now, we usually like to go for a walk after dinner, not very long but enough to get her some fresh air. I’m just getting her out from the bath when the front door slams shut. “I’m home.” I swallow down the lump and ignore looking down the stairs toward where his voice is when I walk back into Cici’s room to dress her. Of course, she starts squealing for him and clapping her hands.
“There they are,” he says when he comes up the stairs two by two. His jacket is off and his shirt open at the top, like it always is. I quickly look at him, wondering if he met with Marianna. He holds out his hands for her and I try to see if I smell her perfume on him, but all I smell is him. “Hi, girly.” He kisses her cheek five times. “You smell clean.” He looks at me. “I’m going to go get a shower and then I can put her to bed.” He hands me back Cici and I turn toward her changing table.
“Sounds good,” I reply, avoiding looking at him, not sure that I want to see. What if he was with Marianna? Do I have a right to be mad? Should we have discussed that if we are sleeping together, it’s just us two? Should we have never slept together in the first place? Should we just end this now before it gets even more complicated? It’s the questions that have been on loop ever since I spoke with Marianna.
“What’s wrong?” he asks right away, catching that I’m acting strange and I want to kick myself. Here I was telling myself to act normal, apparently telling myself and doing it are two different things.
“Nothing, why?” I ask, but I’m not asking him. I’m hoping he just goes to take a shower so I can get myself under control.
“You’re acting differently.” I know he’s staring at me because I can feel his eyes on me. I busy myself with grabbing Cici’s diaper as I hand her a brush so she can play with it.
“Nope, I’m normal,” I reassure him, looking over my shoulder at him and maybe, perhaps, I should just tell him that we need to talk. Maybe, just maybe, I should ask him.