Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“And does he love you?” She saw the truth immediately, before I had a chance to speak. She let out a cruel laugh. “Of course he doesn’t.” She said it as if I was unlovable, and I had a sudden flashback to my mother, making a similar comment about my first real boyfriend. I didn’t feel as stupid now as I did then. Jillian, of all people, should understand.
Her mouth tightened. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"It's my game to play. I'm the one in the relationship." I regretted the flippant words the moment they left my mouth, because there had always been a competition between us, one that she always lost.
"You selfish, stupid girl,” she spat out, and pointed a trembling finger toward the bar. "He'll leave you, Layana. One day, you'll wake up, and that boy in there will be gone. Brant loves you. He'll be with you forever."
I nodded, because of course she was right. What I had with Lee was fleeting, which is why I needed to hold onto it with both hands. "I know." I turned away, hiding the emotion on my face, and headed toward the bar. Her voice, quiet but firm, stopped me.
"Brant told me he proposed again."
"Yes." I turned and met her eyes. “And? Do you think I should marry him?"
She let out a huff of laughter, a cold and brittle sound that spoke of incredulity and hopelessness. "Layana, you know that I don't particularly care for you."
"I'm well aware.”
She shifted the bag in her hand to the other side and I realized that it was a to-go one from the wings place. Of all places for us to pick, and for her to go—was this the universe trying to intercede?
“And you know that I don’t believe he should be in any romantic relationship. You know why. You should have left him back in Belize when you found out the truth. But you didn't. You stayed with him. And I respected you for that. Five minutes ago, I would have pushed aside my concerns and said yes, you should marry him. I would have given you my blessing. But now? Seeing you with him?" She jerked her head toward the bar. "You are threatening everything you have because you want everything you don't. You don't get everything when it comes to Brant. You get what he shares with you. And you have to be happy with that."
She was right. Of course she was. I knew that—had known that—but what the heart wants doesn’t always agree with what the head knows. And for me, in my battle of heart versus head, my heart wins every time.
She was waiting, expecting a response, and I found my voice somewhere in my dark pit of shame. "I don't know if I can be happy with that.”
And there it was. The horrible truth of my relationship. I don’t know if I can be happy with that. With pieces of Brant. With getting what he shared. If I couldn’t be happy with that—if that was indeed the bottom of it—than why was I in this relationship?
Because I loved him.
Jillian shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. "Love isn't about being happy. Be single and be happy. Love is about putting him, his sanity, his happiness, first. If you aren't willing to do that, then you aren't really in love."
With that blow, she turned away, her heels clipping through the parking lot, toward her white Lexus sedan, one I had walked past without noticing. There was a part of me that loved that woman and her fight for Brant. There was another part of me that hated her guts.
I headed for the bar, my path to hell lined with neon signs and temptation, all in the form of Lee.
Chapter 45
The following day I hovered in the doorway to Jillian's office and rapped my knuckles on the wall.
"Layana." Jillian looked up from the reports on her dark wooden desk and raised her eyebrows above the gold rim of her reading glasses. "What a... surprise."
I glanced at her administrative assistant, who was in the corner of her office, a clipboard in hand, his pen in frantic motion. “Sorry for the interruption. I’d like to speak to you about something."
She rolled away from the desk and sat back in her tufted leather chair, removing her glasses and folding them closed. "Absolutely. Chad, please return to your desk and hold any interruptions.”
I stepped inside and perched on the arm of the closest chair. Her assistant moved by, smiling faintly of Old Spice, and quietly murmured a hello.
Jillian’s wary gaze swung to me. "What is it?"
“Thanks for not making a scene last night."
Her dark red lips pursed together, pinching the delicate skin around her lips into a hundred spiderwebs. “Well, I didn't really have an option."