Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
She knew this, they both did, since I’d been honest enough with them whenever they kept pushing for me to get married again. But for whatever reason they’d both been convinced that marriage to her was the cure I needed to get over my broken heart.
The problem with that is, my heart isn’t broken, the shit’s dead. It’s been dead since the day my wife disappeared and I know as sure as I’m breathing that it won’t come back to life unless she returns. It will never beat for anyone else again.
I feel like a dog now that I think about it. I’d been willing to waste her life and mine by settling. She deserved better, poor girl.
It was obvious that she was in love with me and though I’d been honest with her, though she knew that I would never feel that deeply for her, she didn’t seem to care.
I did feel a certain kind of affection for her. She was a very nice girl after all, but it wasn’t right that she should spend her life with a man that would never give her what she truly needed.
I could never give anyone else my heart. It was dead and buried with my wife who might or might not be dead. No one believed that I could feel this strongly for my woman. Not me, the stalwart tough guy who never let anything get to me.
But no matter where my Zandi is, she’d taken my heart with her and I’d told Mindy that from the start. There was no sense in trying to hide it anyway, everybody knew.
It was obvious in the fact that I never took my wedding ring off, and the fact that her pictures were still scattered all over our home.
The home I’d refused to change and could never see myself leaving or sharing with someone else. Now that I think about it, Mindy had been willing to sacrifice a hell of a lot to be with me.
The thought only made me feel worst. Like the lowest most despicable bastard in the world. How could I have let things go that far knowing that I could never love her?
That I wasn’t even willing to give up so much as a memory of my beloved, not for her, not for anyone. When had I become that selfish?
And why the hell had she been willing to settle for so little from the man she wanted to marry? How could she have thought that it would work? At least I’d come to my senses in time and saved both of us from a fate worst than death.
Not for the first time I felt a great sense of relief that I’d avoided that nightmare. That I was no longer beholden to someone else to make a commitment I had no intentions on keeping.
I pulled into the garage and just sat there with the engine off. Home! Was it really that anymore? I should’ve sold the place a long time ago like everyone had pressured me to, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Every time I had the thought my mind would shy away from it violently, like it was some kind of betrayal. This was her home, the one we’d shared. The place she’d return to if she ever did come back.
I could still remember the day we’d moved in. How excited she was to have her own home with her husband. The smile on her face as she took my hand and dragged me from room to room in her excitement.
I could hear her voice as she told me all the plans she had to fix it up just the way she wanted to. To make it perfect for her and I. She was like a kid in a candy store back then.
She’d spent months getting everything just right. I could still remember the arguments we had over her not wanting to spend too much, when I only wanted the best for her.
The look of wonder on her face when I’d gone over her head and got her the expensive furniture she really wanted, instead of the less expensive brand she’d settled on because she didn’t want to waste her husband’s money.
Her awe and wonder when I’d go overboard and surprise her with something that she still didn’t think she was worthy of even as the wife of one of the richest men in the state.
I’d spoiled her ass rotten every chance I got, because of that. Because she was so genuinely appreciative of everything I did for her, it made buying her things just as exciting as it was for her to receive them.
We’d had such joy here, shared such sweet moments that sometimes it was hard to imagine something that beautiful was really gone. She’d flitted in and out of my life way too quickly. I want it back; want her back.