Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 38202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
A long tense moment of silence followed before Mr. Rochester had drawled, “I’ll agree...”
Addie and I had looked at each other in surprise, and it was evident then that both of us hadn’t really thought it would work.
“On one condition,” Mr. Rochester had finished.
“What’s that, Papa?” Addie had asked warily.
“If Ms. Reed agrees to live with us for the duration of the year—-”
“What the fuck?”
Both Addie and Mr. Rochester had winced at my language, and for a second I had been distracted at how similar they were.
“Then I will agree with your decision to leave your current school and transfer to wherever it is you want to study.”
The memory of how I ended up still living in Mr. Reed’s mansion makes me fume in the present. Cunning bastard, I think furiously. Now I get why he didn’t use the video against me. The asshole knows that such methods of blackmail never have a good ending for any of the parties. On the other hand, emotional blackmail where other people’s feelings are at stake—-
Cunning bastard, I think again.
“Mom?”
Addie’s voice makes me realize I’ve been lost in my thoughts, and I grimace. “Sorry, what’s that again?” Then I remember what she’s called me and flash her a look of exasperation. “And seriously, can you quit calling me that?”
The teenager responds with an impudent grin, saying, “But I like it, and I want you to be my mom.”
I’m in the act of sticking out my tongue at her – just to show Addie how immature I am to be her mother – when we hear Mr. Rochester murmur, “Good morning, ladies.”
I stiffen in my seat.
A moment later and he’s reached my side, the scent of his aftershave making my body clench.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
As always, he bends down to kiss me on my cheek.
And I jerk my head away, avoiding his kiss, as always.
Mr. Rochester’s lips tighten but even so he doesn’t say a word and takes his seat at the head of the table. The rest of our breakfast is spent in angry silence. I know it’s because of me, but even so I mulishly keep my gaze on my plate and only respond to Mr. Rochester with nods and shakes of my head.
After, he asks me if I want to ride with him to work and I say stiltedly, “No, thanks.”
His lips presses together once more, but even so his voice remains mild as he says, “I’ll see you later then.”
In front of me, Addie is clearly bursting to speak but she’s smart enough to wait until we both hear his limousine speeding away before blurting out, “He won’t wait for you forever, you know.”
I force myself to shrug even as her words make my heart stutter in pain. “I don’t care.” And I don’t. I really don’t...even though the past month has been more horrific than anything I can remember experiencing.
“Can’t you just forgive him?” Addie pleads.
“I’ve already forgiven him,” I mumble. “I just don’t trust him.”
“I know Papa. I’m certain he didn’t mean to deliberately lie to you about me. But...I also know he’s not the one to talk about his feelings. He’s already going out of his way with how he’s wooing you—-”
“I didn’t force him to do those things,” I say defensively. “If he wants to stop, then he can stop—-”
Addie shakes her head in exasperation, demanding, “Do you really mean that?”
I shift restlessly on my chair.
“Oh, Ms. Reed.” Worry flickers in her dark eyes as Adele gazes at me. “He was wrong not to tell you about me right away, but don’t you think you’re being too hard on him now? Papa has a lot of pride, and if things continue as they are...” She falls silent.
“If he gives up,” I say thinly, “then doesn’t that mean he never really cared enough?”
Addie opens her mouth to answer, but I don’t give her a chance to do so. Getting up from my chair, I mumble an excuse and quickly leave the room. I hate that I’m being rude, but I have no choice. If I stay to listen, I’m terrified the younger girl will end up convincing me—-
To go after Mr. Rochester, the know-it-all voice in my head sneers, the way you really want to?
My jaw clenches at the thought.
It’s not like that. It’s not. Mr. Rochester is the wrong one here, and so it’s entirely my privilege to act like a bitch to him.
Right?
I desperately remind myself of this as I get to the office and I’m once again forced to work in close proximity to Mr. Rochester.
With Virginia having told everyone who cared to know about what had gone down that day, the nosy looks I attract have significantly multiplied. I feel like I’m under a microscope wherever I go now, and every little thing I do or say is being dissected.