Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Going to the rink to see if anyone will tell me anything,” I say.
“That sounds like a sane thing to do!” she shouts as the doors close.
When I walk into the rink, I see that the team is already there, which is not unusual since we are playing a game tonight. I nod to a couple of people I see, my eyes scanning the room looking for Manning.
“Hey,” I say when I see him on the stationary bike. I walk closer to him, and he just looks at me. “I was looking for you.”
“You found me,” he says, huffing while he grabs his bottle of pre-game whatever he drinks. “What do you want?”
I look around, making sure no one is listening to our conversation. “You knew she was leaving.”
He just glares at me. “What’s it to you?” He shakes his head. “Where is your wife?”
I ignore the second part of his question. “You know where she went?”
“Yup,” he says, stopping pedaling. “I do.” He gets up and walks away from me.
“Is she okay?” I whisper, and he turns to look at me. “I just want to know if she’s okay.”
“She is far from okay,” he hisses, his voice low as not to bring attention to us. “But hopefully, she will be.” I just nod at him. I don’t say anything more.
I walk out at the same time Lizzie walks in. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” I say, and she looks at me with her mouth hanging open.
“We play tonight.” She points at the door I just walked out from.
“I’ll watch it on the television,” I say. “Did you find out anything?”
“Nothing yet.” She shakes her head. “But I put out some feelers.”
“Let me know,” I say and walk away from her toward my car. I get home, walking straight upstairs to my room. I throw my jacket on the chair in the corner, unbuttoning the cuff links when the phone rings.
I walk out to my jacket and pull it out to see it’s Laurene. “Hey.” Pressing my shoulder to my ear, I hold the phone while I undress.
“It’s done,” she says, and I sit on the bed. “Just like it never happened.” I breathe out a huge sigh of relief.
“Are you sure they won’t find out?” I ask. “It would suck really hard if we went through all this for nothing.”
“If anything comes up, I’m going to cry.” She laughs. “No one wants to fuck with a woman who cries.” I laugh. “I heard about Becca.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I don’t know what to do,” I say. “I don’t know where to go. I feel so defeated, like there is nothing left, and I have no idea what to do with these feelings.”
“I wish I had the answer,” she says. “I wish that I could make it all better.”
“You and me both,” I say. “I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”
“It’s six.” She laughs. “Aren’t you going to the game?”
“Nah,” I say to her. “I’m going to watch it from home.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything.” I press the end button, then get up and go shower.
I don’t bother watching the game. Instead, I go outside and sit down. Looking up at the stars blinking in the sky, I sit here until the sun starts to come up, my eyes never even closing once.
I walk back into the house, coming face-to-face with Lizzie and Laurene, both in their robes raiding my fridge. “What are you guys doing?” I ask, causing them to both yelp.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Lizzie says, dropping the loaf of bread she was holding and putting her hand on her chest. “What the fuck?”
“Why are you up?” Laurene asks, the bag of chips in her hands squashed to her chest.
“The question is, why the fuck are you in my fridge?” I tilt my head to the side.
“I had no food,” Lizzie says. “And you have food, so …”
“Have you not been to bed?” Laurene asks.
“I had things on my mind,” I say.
“She’s gone,” Lizzie says, looking at me. “Took off to Turks.”
My heart speeds up, my palms getting wet. “How do you know?”
“I ran into Francis and pretended I knew,” Lizzie says. “Told him she called me about houses.”
“Did he say how long she will be gone for?” I ask, the lump coming to my throat.
“She isn’t sure yet. At least for a month,” she says, and I just nod at her.
“Turn off the lights when you’re done,” I tell them, walking back to my room. I slip into bed, thinking about Becca alone on some island.
When I wake the next day, it’s after nine, and I feel like I’m hungover even though I haven’t drunk anything. I walk around with a hollowness in my chest, knowing a piece of me is gone. Unless I get her back, that piece will be gone forever.