Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I was emotionally stuck in San Diego.
In LA, I was the husband to a wife who had been on a mission every time she ovulated.
It was also a recent source of my inner anxiety.
I felt trapped. Every kiss was a lie. Having her cuddle up with me on the couch made me wanna run away. The sex… To be fair, it hadn’t been decent since before we got married. It was all about baby-making. Nothing screamed of passionate romance like Sandra slamming on the brakes and going, “Get a pillow under my butt so your swimmers stay inside” right before I came.
Post-fuck cuddles were just me holding her legs up.
Well, not anymore. I’d knocked her up again, and she was puking at all hours of the day. She’d tested positive a month ago, and I could already tell the pregnancy was going to consume her. She had Facebook groups, online experts, and gurus to talk to before we could decide what to have for dinner.
By the time Jake came back into the studio, Nikki was done, and I didn’t look like I hadn’t slept for three months.
“What did Haley want?” Nikki wondered.
“Sam’s got a fever,” Jake replied. “Looks like she’s caught the bug goin’ around.”
That sucked. They’d sent everyone home from Sam’s day care yesterday because of seven kiddos falling ill.
I nodded in thanks as he gave me a cup of coffee.
“I was waiting for that,” Nikki sighed. “Poor girl. Let me know if you want me to take her tonight. Russell’s out of town anyway.”
“Nah, I got it.” Jake sat down next to me for his turn with Nikki’s makeup sponges. “I’ll stop by Panera after I’ve picked up Bear. We can do a movie marathon in jammies.”
Nikki laughed softly. “Well, call me if you need assistance.”
Fuck. Envy festered within me, for several reasons. Jake and Nikki’s relationship—did they even realize how lucky they were? And I knew it wasn’t actually luck. They’d worked hard to get where they were today. Colin and Sam were the lucky ones to have a mom and dad who had found common ground in being the best parents they could be. Parents who cared for each other, who were friends.
That wouldn’t be Sandra and me if we got divorced. I knew that much.
I was also envious of Jake’s evening plans, weird as it may sound. Because I used to be there. He and I would go all in with the movie marathons when Colin was little and got sick. He’d be in and out of naps on the couch, with Jake and me on either side. Pixar movies, cartoons, video games, junk food, chicken soup, ice cream…
Part of me wanted to suggest I bring Cas over to Jake’s tonight, but kids got sick often as it was. My boy had recently survived a wretched man cold, to boot.
“I guess we’ll cancel food-truck Thursday tomorrow,” Jake said.
Of course. I nodded once, hating it. Thursdays were fucking sacred.
“All done,” Nikki declared. “Do you need me to stay, or…?”
“Thanks, hon. No, I think we’re good. It shouldn’t be long.” Jake stood up again and went over to his cameras. We were shooting from two angles because that was what he preferred.
Within five minutes, Nikki had left, and I had finished my coffee. Ortiz hadn’t returned, so Jake and I were alone in the black room.
I tended to avoid that nowadays, which wasn’t easy.
“I think we’re all set.” Jake peered through the viewfinder. “Can you move my chair a couple inches closer to yours?”
“Yeah.” I did as told, then set my coffee cup out of the shot.
Focus on work. I knew what I was gonna say. What we were gonna say. We’d do a few takes and mix up the wording a bit; we’d done this before.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been quiet all day.”
No, I wasn’t fucking okay, but as I kept repeating to myself, I’d made my bed.
Some days were harder than others. Today was one of them, and I had no particular reason for it. The melancholy built up and eventually fucked up a whole day.
“Everything’s good,” I lied. “Let’s begin.”
“All right. Recording.” He stayed out of the shot while he quickly removed his tee and put on another one. The former had been fine, no graphics on it, but it was too dark. He put on a khaki green instead, then sat down next to me and turned his ball cap backward.
I took a couple deep breaths and rolled my shoulders. “Okay, you go first.” I’d gone first last time, which was why I wanted the reshoot. I wasn’t happy with it. With Jake’s history in the Marines, his opening was stronger, while my little tale worked better as a transition to our main focus on first responders coming home from trauma. And some not coming home at all.