Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
We all stayed at the cottage that had been my escape. The cottage that had brought Jay and I back together. In the days before the wedding, he put us in the car, not telling us where we were going. Both Ruby and I were content in Jay’s company and more than happy to let him lead the way. We drove, marveling at the scenery I hadn’t had the chance to see the first time we were here. Ruby was happy too, looking at the window, playing with her toys, giggling at her father. We ended up at Tongariro National Park, to hike the crossing. To climb a mountain in New Zealand. The last thing on the list, since we’d stopped off in Bali for a week before coming here, watching the sun set, drinking cocktails and eating some of the most wonderful food in the world. Ruby loved our adventures. She was happy to be strapped into a backpack and hike six hours. I was less than happy since my fitness level wasn’t exactly at its peak. But it was worth it. Totally fucking worth it.
“I’m going to have to make a new list,” I whispered, leaning against Jay, staring at the breath-taking scenery around us.
“Make as many lists as you like,” Jay replied, kissing Ruby’s head. “I’ll spend my life crossing off each and everything thing.”
So yeah, things were fucking great.
We made it back to the cottage for the wedding, my cup already overflowing.
I was my father’s best man, standing happily beside him, wearing a black, tailored YSL suit, though I was a little over dressed for a wedding where the bride went barefoot.
Wren, Yasmin and Zoe were also in attendance, also wearing couture so I didn’t care. As I stood and watched my father find his happily ever after with my husband in the front row, our daughter sitting contently on his knee, her little hand curled in his large one, there was not a thing wrong in the world. Not at this moment, at least. I knew that Jay’s life—our life—meant that it would not always be like this. We would not always have peace. There were still nights when Jay came home with blood on his hands and death in his gaze. His demons still clawed at his throat, trying to convince him that he was not worthy, that he was too wicked for us.
He still hated himself.
But he did all of that less often. A lot less.
We had plenty of things to celebrate. And celebrate we did. With a ceremony and a party on the beach, huge tents erected right in the sand, bursting with people, music and food. Though there was one person noticeably absent from the party.
“Hey, you,” I handed Wren a glass of wine before I sat beside her in the sand.
She took it with a smile. A sad one. Still so sad. My marvelous friend had yet to let the light back in to her life. She had yet to let Karson back in to her life. He had not stopped trying.
Wren didn’t speak of it, what was going on with her and Karson. Not one single word. Not to me, not to Zoe, not to Yasmin, not to Jay. The two of them had become close. Something I liked since neither Zoe nor Yasmin enjoyed that kind of relationship with him. Though Zoe had warmed considerably since my kidnapping. Something had changed between the two of them, and I was happy for it.
“Hey back,” Wren clinked her wine glass with mine.
We looked out upon the sunset as the music from the party filtered along the beach.
“I’m happy for your dad,” she remarked. “He’s a total DILF, and I would’ve married him myself if he hadn’t stopped babbling on about me being young enough to be his daughter.”
I laughed, looking at my friend’s profile for a beat before turning back to the sunset.
“He deserves it,” I agreed. “Happiness. Just like my friend does.”
Wren kept staring at the ocean, taking a large sip of her drink. “I’m trying, Stells. I promise, I’m trying.”
I blinked away tears. This was the closest Wren had come to letting me in for a long time. She’d been stateside since my kidnapping, coming and going throughout the months of my pregnancy. I knew it had been hard for her, for her to see me grow more and more pregnant, to see what she had lost. She’d been happy for me. She showered me with love and gifts, but I knew it killed her to do so. I knew that she was a walking wound. But somehow, she soldiered on. She utterly adored Ruby, spoiling her rotten and never tiring of whatever game Ruby was obsessed with at the time.
“I know you are, sweetheart,” I whispered, reaching for her free hand and squeezing it. “You will get there.”