Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I needed longer than fifteen minutes, but a knock sounded, and I wouldn’t ever shove my personal shit onto clients. I dried up my tears, checked my makeup situation, and knocked out the rest of my day, keeping myself composed.
And on the drive over to Sean’s house later that night, I remained composed.
When his headlight shined in my rearview, I got out of my car, locked it up, and walked across the grass, reaching the driveway as he swung off his bike.
He bent down and kissed me, murmuring a tired “Hey,” against my mouth.
“Hey,” I said back. “Good day?”
“Yeah. Long, but good.”
Sean threw his arm around my shoulders and led me inside.
“I gotta shower,” he informed me. “Give me five, yeah?”
I nodded, leaning into the kiss he pressed to the side of my head before he released me.
Sean stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door.
I began to pace.
I felt like I was on autopilot. There was no rhythm or reason to my stride. I walked everywhere, throughout every room, as my anxiety began to claw at my skin. My feet dragged, but they moved me, and before I knew it, I was standing in Sean’s bedroom in front of his dresser, examining the collection of items he had scattered there.
Aside from loose change and one of the ties he kept for his hair, there was a framed picture of him and the girls taken outside in front of the playground. Next to the frame was one of those clay molds you can bake and harden. It was a misshapen blob painted rainbow colors. There was also a drawing done by one of the girls—Caroline, if I had to guess—of a stick-figure family, resembling the one on the fridge, but this one had a beach background. Next to the drawing was a small wooden box you’d keep little trinkets in. I flipped back the lid, expecting to see little tokens. Maybe a few crayons, since they seemed to be hidden throughout the house.
I laughed when Chuck E Cheese tickets popped out. Rolls of them.
As I folded them up to put them back inside, I saw something else in the box.
Created from the same thread adorning Sean’s wrist was a tiny ring.
Breath quaking inside my chest, I picked it up to examine.
It matched the colors Sean wore, the threads tightly braided together into a pattern. The design was flawless. It had taken time, and maybe Caroline could’ve spent the hours, but I knew this was all Sean. He made this.
Tears filled my eyes. I dried them up when I heard the bathroom door open, and popped the ring and tickets back inside the box, closing it up quickly.
Sean entered the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
I moved away from the dresser so he could get to it and took a seat on the bed.
“Your day good?” he asked as he dressed. “Val said she saw you.”
“Yeah. Did you talk to her?”
He pulled jeans on over his boxers. “She stopped by work,” he shared. “Asked if I wanted to go to the beach with her and the girls this weekend.”
“You should go,” I blurted out.
Sean’s head came up as he finished buttoning his jeans. “What about the carnival?”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that.
But it didn’t matter anyway. That wouldn’t be reason for him to miss this opportunity.
“J.R. can handle it,” I said. “I’m sure he’d be fine. Go to the beach with them.”
Sean’s head popped through the neckhole of his shirt. With hard eyes filled with confusion, he stared at me as he pushed his arms through the sleeves. “You want me goin’ on a vacation with my ex,” he stated in disbelief.
I stood from the bed. “With your family, yes, I do,” I told him.
“Why?”
“Because they’re your family.”
“And what the fuck are you?”
I shrugged and, in the steadiest voice I could manage, replied, “I’m someone who wants you to be happy.”
Sean’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly. We stared at each other, seconds passing before he asked, “What the fuck are you sayin’?”
“I just told you—I think you should go on vacation with them.”
“You’re not just talkin’ about me going on some fuckin’ beach trip,” he growled, approaching me. “So I’m gonna ask again. What the fuck are you sayin’ to me?”
I stared up into Sean’s face as my hands stayed glued at my side.
I wanted so badly to touch him, and it killed me not to. It killed me being here, letting these words fall out of my mouth while keeping others to myself. All of it, this was killing me.
I tried looking away when tears built on my lashes, but Sean caught my chin and guided me back.
“Explain,” he ordered.
“I want you to have what you lost,” I whispered.
His eyes softened, and the tightness in his jaw released. He no longer looked pissed.