Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
The thought of never having her in my arms again is . . . I close my eyes and see Rebecca’s beautiful smile.
“Lovely” by Billie Eilish echoes through the speakers.
The familiar tone of the piano brings with it a comforting sense of melancholy.
Isn’t she lovely . . .
Yes . . . yes, she was.
Three weeks later
No conversation, no love . . . no contact.
I sit in the back of a yellow cab on my way to work and stare out the window.
At least when she continually called me in that first week, it appeared that she cared.
Did I mean that little to her that she gave up so easy? . . . She didn’t even fight it.
Or for me . . .
Her silence is the confirmation that my deepest fear was true.
She still loves him. She’ll always love him.
I get a vision of the two of us rolling around in the sheets, and my stomach drops.
Nothing more than the rebound guy.
I blow out a deep, deflated breath. I feel like fucking shit.
I’ve never been so low.
The boys arrive tonight, and I can’t wait to see them. A weekend on the town with my two best friends is exactly what I need.
“That will be twenty-two dollars,” the bored cabdriver tells me. I glance up. I didn’t even realize that the car stopped. I dig out my cash and pay him. “Thank you.” I get out of the cab and slam the door.
Fuck this.
I miss my Porsche.
“Hey.” Henley pulls me into a hug. “I missed your ugly face.”
I laugh and hug him back. “Wish I could say the same.” I turn to Antony and hug him next.
“I’m taking you home with us,” he tells me. “This fucking sucks.”
I smile into his shoulder, grateful for his friendship and missing everything about it.
“How was the flight?” I ask.
“Long.”
“I had a fucking baby sitting next to me,” Antony grumbles. “Bastard cried for the entire six hours. I nearly stuck my sock in its mouth.”
“Why do you hate kids so much?” Henley rolls his eyes.
“I just do.” He curls his lip. “I’m not having any; it’s already decided. Screw that shit.”
I laugh. “You hungry?”
“Yeah, where we going?”
“Out.”
“Can I get you any dessert?” the waitress asks.
I hold my hands up. “I’m good.”
Henley cuts me off as he opens the menu. “No, you’re not. He will have the . . .” He peruses the choices. “Tiramisu.”
“Sounds good. Make that two,” Ant chimes in.
The waitress leaves us alone, and my eyes go to Henley. “What’s with ordering my food tonight? I’ve never eaten so much.”
“You’ve lost weight.”
“What?” I glance down at myself. “No, I haven’t.”
“Ant, has he lost weight?” Henley asks.
“Yeah.”
“You think?” I pat my stomach.
“Ten pounds at least.”
“Come off it,” I scoff.
“Have you been eating?” he asks.
“Yes,” I lie.
My appetite has died, along with my heart.
“I’ve taken up running.” Not a lie. I actually have been running.
“Where do you run?”
“Around Central Park each morning.”
“So . . . how’s New York?”
“It’s . . .” I shrug. “Okay.”
“Just come home, man,” Antony says. “You belong at home with us.”
“Now, now.” Henley holds his hand up. “He hasn’t even settled in yet. Give it time.”
My eyes hold his. The thing with Henley is, it’s what he doesn’t say that has meaning. His messages are delivered in between the sentences.
“How’s everything at home?”
“By everything . . . you mean Rebecca?” Henley asks.
I sip my beer and shrug. “I guess.”
“She’s . . .” His eyes flick to Antony. “How’s Rebecca?”
“She’s not doing great,” Antony replies. “Lost a lot of weight and . . .” His voice trails off.
My heart sinks. “Are you checking in on her?”
“She’s fine,” Henley snaps. “The girls are taking care of her.”
I nod as my mind goes into overdrive. “Has she . . .”
“Has she said anything?” He finishes my sentence.
I nod.
“She told Juliet that you deserve better.” His eyes hold mine as he gives me a silent message.
“Any sign of John?”
“I’ll kick his ass if he steps foot on our street,” Antony huffs.
“Has she been going out?” I ask.
“No.” Henley sips his beer. “Didn’t even go to work for a couple of weeks.”
“She didn’t?”
“No.” He shrugs. “Apparently she’s started seeing a therapist.”
Oh . . .
“You did the right thing by coming here,” Henley says matter-of-factly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Rebecca’s got a lot of baggage.”
I nod as a sinking feeling creeps back in.
“I still think that one day, you two will end up together.” Antony sighs.
“We won’t.” I shake my head. “She had her chance.”
“I don’t believe this is all her fault,” Henley fires back.
“So it’s mine?” I point to my chest.
“Not at all. The timing’s not right, that’s all.”
“The timing is never going to be right for us.” I sip my beer. “She made sure of that, and why the fuck are you defending her all of a sudden?”