Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
I regret shouting.
But I can’t help how I feel. I’m frustrated that my fiancé can’t support me better, that his only solution is to toss aside all thoughts of my friend whose location or state of existence is a total unknown. I can’t do that to West. Something tells me West wouldn’t do that to me if this situation was reversed.
I mean, West might make a quick stop for pizza on the way to saving my life, but still, he’d save it.
He wouldn’t just let me go.
“Babe …?”
I close my eyes, afraid to hear whatever it is he has to say.
“Babe, you’re shivering.”
I barely noticed. “It’s cold,” I say rather carelessly.
“Actually it’s super warm in here.” The next thing I know, his arms come around me from behind in a tight, embrace. “Your skin … Your skin is like ice.”
“I should p-p-put my clothes back on.” Wow, I am shivering. How did I not notice? “Where the hell did I throw my stupid shirt?”
Byron helps me at once, fetching my clothes from all around—the booth next to us, the floor, the table. He helps me get dressed, and for a moment, I could almost forgive him for everything. He is such a great caregiver and a sweetheart. He’s everything I could ever possibly ask for in a husband.
Yet I’m mad at him.
And maybe I’m still a little guilty, too.
“Better?” he asks after I’m dressed. He has me in his arms, my face pressed to his chest, and his hands are quickly rubbing up and down my back, warming me up.
The truth is, I’m still cold. I fight the urge to shiver. “Yeah,” I say anyway.
“You sure?”
I just close my eyes and let him continue to rub my back, wondering if it will help me feel less mad at him.
It doesn’t. “He’s not just a ghost,” I say again.
Byron sighs. “I know you’re emotional right now. You have so much on your mind. The wedding—”
I peel away from his arms and face him. “Fuck the wedding,” I blurt out. “This has nothing to do—”
“Fuck the wedding?”
“—with us getting married, or either of our parents, or anything else. I’m not just being emotional. This is a very important thing to me, and you’re dismissing it like I’m just complaining again about the centerpieces at the wedding reception.”
“I can’t believe you just said ‘fuck the wedding’ and I’m supposed to ignore that.”
“And what was this?” I ask, gesturing at the booth we were just occupying, which most certainly is now a host of a lot of our sweat and stickiness. “Was that just to distract me?”
“Wait a second here …”
“Was sex supposed to just make me forget about West? You thought you could just … fuck West out of me?” I storm away from him, losing my cool. “I’m not okay, Byron. I’m so fucking far from okay.”
“I know you’re angry …”
“Of course I’m angry! Were you just pacifying me earlier? Acting like you’re okay with everything when really you’re not? You’ve got problems with me?”
“I was just trying to understand, Griffin.”
“So you don’t understand, then? Is that it?”
“Can you stop pacing please? Let’s talk this out in a calm manner.”
“I’m calm,” I say through my teeth, then come to a stop at the front counter, eyes glued to the menu posted there, zeroing in on the Pumpkin Prince list.
“Your fingers are curled into fists, babe.”
I relax them. Then they ball right back up. “I’m as calm as you’ll get me right now, babe.”
After a moment, he comes up to the counter next to me. A much-needed moment passes where neither of us speak. In that moment, lightning flashes through the big front windows twice, and the rain picks up, making the room feel loud despite our silence.
“This is where I first met you,” he murmurs.
I’m still staring at the menu, reading the same item name over and over. “Yes,” I finally say. “It is.”
“You ordered a caramel latte. You were so cute and nervous. I thought it was more of a personality thing. I didn’t know you were nervous because of me. I couldn’t possibly have concluded you thought I was cute, too. I never saw myself as all that desirable until I met you.”
I roll my eyes and scoff. “Are you kidding? You’re gorgeous and have been ever since day one.”
He folds his arms on the counter and glances at me. After a moment of reluctance, he says, “You … never needed West to give you confidence. You are brave and strong and beautiful without him.”
I close my eyes.
Great. His kindness was a trap. Again. “Stop.”
“Babe, I’m serious.”
“Just stop.”
He sighs. “If you calm down and think this through, you will realize you’re better off without him, and he’s better off without you. You have a life to live. He has a death to accept. And we have a wedding in two days.”