Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Of course. Let me just say goodbye to everyone. Bye, Carter. It was so nice to see you again.” I’m kind of glad we’re leaving. If I stay, Ada will know something is wrong, and I can’t tell her. She just got married a couple of weeks ago. She seems so happy, and I don’t want to burden her with this nonsense.
“Raincheck on that drink?” he asks, winking at me. Why would he wink at me?
“Sure. See you.”
I walk away from him, and Alton grabs my elbow as I walk past him.
“You’re awfully chummy with Carter Sutton, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice low and teeth clenched. Why would he care? He literally just said he didn’t want me.
“He’s a friend,” I reply, shrugging him off of me. I can’t handle him touching me right now. Not ever.
“Do you have a bag?”
“It’s in Lloyd’s truck.”
“I’ll get it. My truck is the green one outside.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Kelly?”
“She’s staying at a friend’s tonight to give us privacy.”
“Ah. That’s nice of her.” Privacy is something we’ll never need.
Alton drives me to his house. He shows me around briefly and puts my things in the master bedroom. Then he leaves. And doesn’t come home. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a girlfriend or a mistress somewhere. Just the thought of him with someone else makes the tears I promised myself I was done crying fall. I don’t think I can do this.
I’ve made a huge mistake and don’t know how to rectify it, but I’ll figure it out.
One Week Later
My phone ringing wakes me from a nightmare. I fumble around in the darkness for my phone. From the backlight on it, I can tell it’s on the nightstand, but I can’t see it well without my glasses. Finally, I feel it and bring it close to my face. It’s Ada, and it’s late. It doesn’t feel like something’s wrong, but you never know.
“Ada? What’s wrong? It’s two o’clock in the morning,” I blurt out as soon as I answer the call.
“Nothing. Wake your husband up so he can remarry Geeb and I right now,” she says excitedly. I don’t say anything because what can I say? “Lavinia? Lavy?” Her nickname for me breaks something in me, and I start sobbing.
“Addy, I can’t wake him up,” I sob.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know where he sleeps. I don’t know where my husband sleeps. Everything is so messed up.” It’s out there now. My husband doesn’t want me. He won’t touch me. He won’t even be in the same room as me. He leaves every night after dinner and doesn’t come home until breakfast. In that time, we’ve talked, but not about anything real. I know his sister more than I know him at this point. He really, really likes my strawberry tarts, though. That’s something, I guess.
“I’m coming over right now.”
“No. Don’t. I’ll be fine. Go back to bed. I’ll tell Alton you’re looking for him in the morning. Is that okay?”
“Yes. That’s fine, Lavy. Call me if you need me.”
“I will. I love you, Addy. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m happy for you and Geeb.”
“Thank you. I love you too.” I hang up the phone, and I feel terrible. I must fall asleep because my alarm is going off the next thing I know. I open my eyes and see Alton sitting on the chair I put in the corner by the closet. He’s taking his running shoes off. He’s sweaty. He must have been at the gym. Kelly told me it is inside the hardware store. She said it’s small and smells like sawdust and sweaty socks.
“Good morning, Lavinia.”
“Good morning, Alton.” I pull the covers up over my chest. I started sleeping naked once I got married. Not that it did any good. Did he see me? Is he disgusted? I’m sure he is.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks.
“I did. Thank you. Where do you sleep?” I blurt out since it’s all I can think about. He chuckles.
“Did you not know?”
“I don’t.”
“The spare room on the other side of the house.”
“Where do you go after dinner?”
“Depends on the night. Didn’t you get my email with my schedule? When you never asked, I assumed you did.”
“You emailed me your schedule?”
“Yes. Of course. I’m trying here, Lavinia.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. Last night I was overseeing Alcoholics Anonymous then I played poker with my friends. The night before was a men’s Bible study. Wednesday was youth group. Tuesday night, I was here, and I wrote tomorrow’s sermon. Monday was women’s Bible study.”
“Do you need my help with any of that?” I ask, thinking I should be doing something.
“Not AA, but you are welcome to help with anything else you want. You are the first lady of the church.”
“I should set an example.”
“If you like,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. Holy moly. I was not expecting a full chest tattoo. He’s so buttoned up. I’ve only seen him in dark polo shirts, khaki pants, or shorts. A giant cross covers most of his chest. There are also three Bible verse references: Jeremiah 29:11, Philippians 4:13, and Isaiah 41:10. I want to touch it. God, do I want to touch it. His muscles have muscles. No wonder he doesn’t want me. We’d look ridiculous together. “Can I take you out tonight?”