Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
But it didn’t matter.
Becca and I were happy. We are happy.
I love her.
Sex isn’t everything. Quite frankly, I think it’s simply overrated.
Chapter Two
William
Back at the dining table, orange juice in hand. Lucy’s got a day off from the salon where she works as a junior stylist, so she’s still in bed. Ben’s already left so my breakfast is safe and Becca, curiously, is opposite, eating cereal.
“I can’t even remember the last time we ate breakfast together on a weekday,” I say before draining the last mouthful of juice in my glass.
Becca smiles as she nods. “Nice, isn’t it?”
“It is as long as you’re not about to tell me you’ve been made redundant too. Why aren’t you rushing?” My tone is teasing, but there’s still a layer of uneasiness sitting heavily over my stomach.
“After the shitshow I had to deal with in Sheffield yesterday, I told them not to expect me before lunch today,” she explains, dropping her spoon in the bowl with a clatter. “In fairness, I say that a lot, but this morning I thought, sod it, let ‘em cope without me for a morning while I eat some bloody cereal with my husband.”
She makes my lips turn up into a giant grin. I reach across the table to take her hand.
Then she adds with a shrug, “I’ll probably go in after you’ve left.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “They’re lucky to have you,” I tell her, running my thumb across her fingers. “As am I.”
Her head tips coyly to one side, blonde hair falling over her face. It amazes me that I can still bring out her shy side after all these years. “What are you after, huh?” she asks, gazing up at me through the loose strands.
I lean closer, whispering across the table. “Another twenty years and more…”
For a moment we simply stare at each other, and I remember all the reasons why I love her. I’m staring into the eyes of my best friend in the whole world; the person who’s been with me, there for me through everything since being fourteen years old. Bullying, shitty parents, failing exams, being broke, and then showing me love and affection. She shared her family with me, gave me my own, created an entire life with me. It’s all there in her eyes. The memories. The future.
“I love you, Becs.”
She squeezes my hand while bringing it up to her lips, kisses my knuckles and whispers, “I love you, too.”
My phone vibrates against the table, making my shoulders sag. “Work beckons,” I say, pulling away from Becca to answer it. I glance at the screen, noting Rick’s name before swiping with my thumb. “Morning, Rick.”
“First job’s in Oldham. Faulty security light’s blown the upper-level sockets. I’ll text you the address and meet you there in an hour.”
“Got it. See you soon, boss.” Frowning, I turn to Becca and sigh. “I need to get ready to leave.”
“Okay. Guess I will too.” She pushes out from the table, stands up. “Sooner I go in, sooner I can get home.”
An involuntary snort leaves my nose. Becca doesn’t work on hours. She won’t leave until there’s nothing left to be done, until nobody else needs help, until every task is completed to her standard. I know it. She knows it. “Well,” I begin, “Ben’s got friends coming over tonight, so I’ll probably order takeaway. Just let me know if you’ll be here in time and I’ll get you something, too.”
Concern creases her forehead. “Is takeaway a good idea when you’re about to lose your job?”
Wow. My eyes widen. Head snaps back. For a moment, I feel tiny. Admonished. Like I’ve just taken a dressing down off my mother. I also feel like an absolute failure as a husband and father. A provider. “Probably not, but we’re not destitute yet, Becs. We can afford twenty quid for a chippy.” Jesus.
“Right. Right,” she says, nodding excessively. “Sorry. Yeah, I shouldn’t be late tonight.”
Was that an argument? Is she angry with me? Am I angry with her? I feel…something. Heaviness in my stomach, an ache in my chest, the urge to get the fuck out of this house. “Are we okay?” I ask before I do just that. With my upbringing, I made a silent vow at the start of my relationship with Becca to never part or fall asleep on bad terms. It’s a promise I’m yet to break.
Her expression melts as she walks around the table until she’s right in front of me. She winds her arms around my waist, smooths her hands up my back and looks up at me. “We’re okay,” she says before softly, briefly kissing my lips. “And I will be home for dinner.”
Smiling, I return her kiss. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
It’s still a relief to leave the house. My stifled lungs welcome the air with a long inhale. Tilting my head towards the overcast sky, the grey clouds mirror my mood, but I know summer’s just ahead and can only hope brighter days are coming both literally and figuratively.