Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Who are you talking to like that, young man?” the customer asked, clutching her purse.
“Not you!” I snapped, feeling my whole body heat with anger.
Yara looked at me, then at the woman, and she pushed out a smile. “We’ll figure out how to bring your account to date next time, Milly. Have a good evening.”
Milly leaned in toward Yara. “I told you about those inner-city drugs.”
She then went on her way, pushing herself past me as she exited the shop. Yara released a weighted sigh and then placed her hands on her hips as she turned toward me. Her stupid, beautiful brown eyes locked with mine and she barked, “What the heck is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me? I told you I didn’t want your stupid bowl!”
“Yes, well, Noah said—”
“I don’t care what Noah said! I told you in no uncertain terms that I didn’t want this crap,” I said, shoving it toward her chest.
“It’s not crap,” she sternly stated, shoving it back toward me. “And if you weren’t in such a mood, you could’ve probably appreciated it! And I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry you’re in a mood and I understand why you’re in a mood.”
“You don’t understand anything about me. You don’t know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But Noah told me about—”
“You don’t know me!” I blurted out, feeling a wave of emotions rush through me at the mention of Teresa. I wanted to feel those emotions. I wanted to mourn. I wanted to fall apart. I wanted to break into a million pieces. I wanted to be where Teresa had been. I wanted out of this world because a world without her felt like emptiness.
I felt empty.
Void of anything that mattered.
But instead of facing those emotions and processing my loss, I shouted at Yara as if she were the cause of every hurt I’d ever hurt.
“This isn’t about my life. This is about you and your pushiness and your stupid bowl. All I said is I don’t want your stupid bowl!” I explained.
“Why are you being such a jerk?”
“Why are you being so annoying?”
“I’m not annoying, you freaking prick!” she hammered out, her voice cracking. She then covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did. For once, stand on your words.”
“Now, who’s acting like they know someone?” she said with flaring nostrils. She seemed conflicted about whether she should’ve been nicer or let her annoyance with me fly.
Fight me, Goldie.
I needed that. I needed something to be mad at, someone to target this whirlwind of emotions toward.
For some reason, I felt I was the first person she’d ever yelled at based on how flush her face appeared. She looked stunning even when she was upset. That bothered me even more.
She shoved the bowl back toward me. “Just take it!”
“No,” I barked back, shoving it toward her.
“Yes,” she argued.
“No.”
There we were, both beyond irritated with one another, shoving the stupid bowl back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until I simply gave up and stepped backward completely, pulling my hold away from the bowl.
As she shoved it back toward me, she let go, and it slipped from her grip, falling to the floor and shattering into a million pieces.
Within mere seconds, her eyes flooded with tears. She swallowed hard, and her hands flew to cover the sob that choked out of her. All because of a freaking bowl. She darted over to the bowl in a complete fit as tears fell down her cheeks. She began picking up the pieces of the broken bowl with shaky hands, and a pound of guilt hit my chest.
Crap.
Sure, I didn’t want the bowl, but I didn’t think she’d break into a hissy fit of emotions from the thing breaking.
I grumbled and bent down to help her pick up the pieces. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Just go!” she barked, wiping her tears. “I should’ve never given you a chance because of a stupid crush that never existed!”
“What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter, okay? We don’t vibe clearly, so let’s stay out of each other’s hair. You don’t come into my shop, and I’ll stay out of yours,” she aggressively spat out, her eyes piercing into me.
That was the point when I should’ve apologized. That was when I should’ve tucked my tail between my legs and told her I was sorry for being a monster each time we crossed paths. She’d somehow managed to cross my path at the worst moments. It wasn’t her fault. But for some reason, I didn’t know how to be soft.
How to admit fault.
How to be human.
So I puffed out my chest and hollered, “Trust me, I’ll never step foot inside this place again, and I wouldn’t have if I didn’t have to give you that thing back!”