Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“So it’s true?”
I peek through my fingers and find Sarah at the bottom of the stairs. “That wasn’t your news to share.” My jaw rolls. “Stop fucking interfering, do you hear me?” I stalk to my office and swing the door open. Slam it behind me. Look around. What the fuck am I doing in here? What the fuck am I doing at The Manor? It’s the root of all my misery.
I turn, haul the door open, and find Sarah on the other side, her eyes glassy with unfallen tears. “I just have a few questions before you leave,” she says, taking her attention to the spreadsheet in her hand. A fat teardrop hits it and splashes, and she quickly swipes the back of her hand across her face, sniffing. “The band will play two sets. Any preference on the time of the final set? Eleven or midnight?”
“I don’t mind,” I reply softly.
“Are you happy to leave the rooms open indefinitely once they’re open at ten thirty?”
“So long as John is still around.”
“Would you like to check the party bags? Make sure you’re happy with the contents?”
“I trust you.”
She looks up at me, swallowing hard. “Do you?” she asks, her lip quivering.
“Sarah,” I breathe, walking to my desk and perching on the edge. “You’ve got to let me have this.”
“Have what?” She closes the door, walking into the middle of the room. “A normal life? A younger woman? A—”
“Love, Sarah,” I say quietly. “A purpose.”
“You have a purpose.”
“My purpose for over twenty years has been to get wasted.” I wave my hand around aimlessly. “To lose myself in the rooms of The Manor, a bottle of vodka, and some pussy. Because that is all I deserved.”
“But she doesn’t know you. Not like I know you.”
I inhale, her words hurting. Sarah knows me. Every dirty little secret, and she still loves me. “I can’t love you, Sarah.”
“You’ve not even tried.”
“You shouldn’t need to try to love someone,” I whisper. “It should just happen.”
She looks away. I take no pleasure from the anguish my truth causes. And I wonder, how can I be so honest with Sarah but not with Ava? Because if Sarah walks out of my life, it would be a blessing. I know that. Problem is, I can’t make that happen. She has to leave herself.
And like an iron shield slides into place, hiding her softer side, she sniffs, clears her throat, and straightens her shoulders. “I have way too much to do to stand around chatting. I’ll see you later.” She leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her, and I look at the ceiling in utter despair, because that there was a woman with no intention of going anywhere. She couldn’t survive without The Manor. Has no purpose beyond it. Just clinging to a past that she should let go. Just clinging to a man that she should definitely let go.
I breathe out, scrubbing a hand over my face, pulling myself together. Then I return to the bar.
I walk in and find Ava knocking back one of Mario’s cocktails. “What have you got there?” I ask, and she whirls around on her stool, all smiles. Oblivious to my turmoil.
“You should try,” she says, excited. “Oh my God.” She looks in a state of euphoria, something I’m familiar with, but knowing alcohol is the cause?
“No thanks,” I mutter, sitting. “I’ll take your word for it.” I look away. “Don’t drink too much.”
She throws me an apology, mortified, and puts the glass down, facing the bar again, every inch of her awkward, and I feel awful for it. This isn’t Ava’s fault. None of my shit is her fault.
Fuck you, Ward. I reach for her, getting her onto my lap. “Hey, it’s fine.” I peek down to where she’s hiding in my chest. “Unravel your knickers, lady.” I laugh under my breath. I should heed my own advice and try some unraveling. I lift her face to mine, smiling softly. “Stop it and kiss me.”
I don’t need to ask her twice. Her fingers feel at my neck, fisting my hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, indulging in my mouth.
“I said, stop it. I don’t know what your concern is.” I eye the glass on the bar. It’s not my drink of choice, but if she’d had a vodka in her hand? What would I do? Grab it and down it all?
“Did you get everything sorted?”
“I did.” I got absolutely nothing sorted. I shouldn’t have come here. All I’ve achieved is upsetting my closest friends, and had it confirmed that I’m reaching for the stars. “Now we eat, and then we go home to bath and snuggle for a while, deal?”
She agrees and we tuck into our lunch when it arrives, a comfortable silence falling between us. Watching her next to me. Just eating, being here. It feels good. Normal.