Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Then Dad told me the truth.” James looks at me with tears in his eyes. “He told me how much you mean to him. He said you’re going to be together forever. You want kids together. Is it true?”
He asks the question with a sense of desperation. It’s like he’s praying for it not to be true. Maybe because, if it is, the trick he played will be that much worse. Or perhaps it’s simple disbelief.
“It’s true,” I tell him. “Actually, it’s kind of funny. Well, it’s not funny, but remember that speech you gave me? That’s how I feel about Fletcher and how he feels about me.”
“Yeah,” James said. “That’s not a coincidence. It’s because I found the note Dad wrote for you. I basically copied it.”
“But if you found the note…”
“I thought it was a line,” James said, and it’s not like I can blame him for that. I thought the same thing. “I thought it was some cheesy older-man pickup line. Dad’s been out of the game for so long, and I thought it was the best he could come up with. I didn’t think it was real.”
“But you stole it anyway.”
“Because I’m fucked in the head,” James says. “I wanted payback. So I took his line. I tried it myself.”
“So you really never wanted me?” I say, trying to keep the hope out of my voice.
“No offense,” James says, “but you’re not really my type.”
I can’t help but smile. I feel my lips spreading wide across my face, probably too wide. There’s probably too much shameless glee radiating from me. “No offense taken,” I say. “Seriously.”
“I’m sorry,” James says, “for being such a dick on the date, embarrassing you at your school, and for all of it. I swear, I didn’t know how much you meant to Dad or how much Dad meant to you. I wouldn’t have gotten in the way if I had.”
“I forgive you, son,” Fletcher says. “I just hope you can forgive me.”
“What?” James snaps. “Forgive you? Why would I need to forgive you, Dad?”
“Come on…” Fletcher reaches over and places his hand on James’ arm. All the while, I’m trying not to punch the air, trying not to cheer or let out a lot of inappropriate happiness. “I didn’t know any of this was a trick. I thought you actually cared about Samantha, and I pursued her anyway. Let’s face it. You would never have done this if I wasn’t such a cold bastard, but I promise, James. I’m going to be better. Samantha has helped me with that. I’m going to be less of a robot.”
James places his hand on top of Fletcher’s. “Thanks, Dad, and you don’t have to wonder if I’ll forgive you. I already have.” He looks up at me with a smile. “It’s okay, Samantha. You don’t have to hold it back.”
“Hold what back?”
James chuckles. “You look like you want to cheer. Seriously, I don’t mind.”
“It’s just…” My smile keeps widening. I feel like I’m floating. “I seriously thought we wouldn’t have a chance at all. I thought it could be the end. Knowing it’s just the beginning is a special thing.”
“I’ve never seen Dad this happy,” James says, grinning. “Honestly, I didn’t know the grim old man could smile.”
“Careful,” Fletcher says. “My girl doesn’t like it when people call me old. Isn’t that right?”
I laugh. James is right. I could cheer any second. Punch the air. Scream at the top of my lungs, We made it. We’re going to make it work. We’re going to do this. “You have to call him mature or experienced,” I say.
“Oh, is that the new rule, Dad?” James replies.
“Don’t ask me,” Fletcher says. “She’s the boss.”
We all laugh together. Even Loki gets in on the action, jumping to the floor and running in crazy circles, standing on his hind legs and letting out yaps of joy. After a moment, Fletcher reaches over and takes my hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Fletcher
“Thank you, Annabelle,” I say, offering my hand to Samantha’s mother.
She takes my hand and shakes it gently. She feels so frail and vulnerable, but it doesn’t matter. Now, she’s got me to look out for her. She will be my mother-in-law soon, as crazy as people might find that. At least she’s almost twenty years older than me, making it less awkward.
“If you mean everything you’ve said,” she tells me, holding my hand with sudden tightness, not so frail when she’s in mother-bear mode, “you’ll make my daughter happier than anybody else ever could.”
“I meant every word,” I say fiercely. “I love your daughter. I’m going to protect her, provide for her. I’m going to be the husband she deserves.”
Annabelle smiles. After I leave the house, there’s a spring in my step.
It’s been four days since James revealed the truth. Things were slightly awkward between us at first. I kept expecting him to resent me for pursuing my girl even when I thought he loved her, and he kept expecting me to resent the lie. We both realize it’s just better to put it behind us.