Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
The driver shuts the car door behind me and my heart begins to race. For some reason as I stare at the front door I can feel myself getting nervous. I toyed with the idea of having fun with Wyatt, but this is starting to feel a little too real—more real than my fake marriage.
“The door is unlocked, and the staff has already left for the day. I was told to tell you to make yourself at home.”
I nod but don’t move from the spot I’m standing in. How many times have I watched the movie Father of the Bride? It’s one of my all-time favorites, and even though I’m pretty sure the movie is supposed to make you happy, it always makes me cry. I think I enjoy torturing myself by giving myself constant reminders of the things I could never have.
“Mrs. Carmichael?” The driver motions for me to go inside.
I glance over my shoulder to see the SUV with the bodyguards is gone. Maybe they drove away when we pulled up the long entrance.
“Is he in there?” I nod to the door.
I sent Wyatt a text to tighten the leash on his guard dogs. When I told him I was going to his house he’s corrected me by saying it’s our house and that he already knew where I was. It seems I don’t have that same pleasure of knowing where he is. Men.
“Still at work.” A trace of relief passes through me, followed quickly by annoyance.
With one last goodbye to the driver I walk to the house and open the door. When I step inside, once again it’s not what I thought it would be. It looks like a home and it feels warm and cozy. There’s a softness to it that I would never associate with Wyatt.
I pull my coat off and walk to the double doors next to the entrance. When I open them I stare inside, shocked for a moment. His coats are hung right next to mine—the coats I left hanging in my own entry closet early this morning.
“He really moved my stuff,” I say to myself, shaking my head.
I toss my coat inside and shut the door without bothering to hang it up. I know the neat and organized Wyatt will be annoyed by that. I smirk as I go straight up the stairs to see if the rest of my stuff is here.
As I move down the hall I open door after door and check the closets. There’s not much to the spare rooms, but nothing of mine is in them. I wonder if they’re sparse because one day they’ll be children's rooms, but then I squash that line of thought quickly. I would never have babies with a man I didn't love or that didn't love me. I would never raise children the way I’d been brought up.
Most people think I’m anti-baby because I never want to hold anyone’s newborn child. But it’s because I want it so badly I can’t bare it. It would truly be my undoing if I held one and then had to give it back. So I’ve never allowed myself to do it because of my longing. I shake my head as I close another door and ignore the ache inside me.
I come to a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. This has to be the master. I stare at them and that same silly flutter I got when I stared up at the house hits my heart again. I grab the handle but it doesn't budge. I try it again. This time I wiggle it harder but still it doesn’t move. It’s locked, which only makes my want inside the room more.
“Bastard,” I mumble. I give up and go back down the hall. He tells me to come back here, bosses me around, and then I can’t even get into the bedroom.
All I could think about during the last ten minutes of the drive here was getting into Wyatt’s bedroom. I kept wondering if anyone else had been in there. Who locks their bedroom door when they aren't in it? Someone who is hiding something, that’s who.
I walk down the stairs and decide I’m leaving. He wants me to wait around until he gets home from work? If he’s anything like my father, that will be well past dinner. Let’s see what Wyatt thinks then he gets here and finds I’m gone.
I’m out the front door before I realize I don’t have a vehicle. The driver isn’t there and I don’t see any other cars around. They’re probably in the garage and I decide to check. Maybe he keeps the keys inside the house somewhere. I try to open the side door to get in but that doesn't work either. I let out a small growl of annoyance and stomp back towards the house.