Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I’m too fired up to sit, so I find myself pacing back and forth. The more I think about what happened, the more upset I get. They can talk shit about me, but about my daughter with her sitting right there…. What kind of mother am I that I didn’t go off on them? I didn’t defend my baby. I think I was in shock that they would say those things knowing I could hear them. Paisley was so engrossed in the game, I assumed she didn’t. That’s what I get for assuming.
Hot tears prick my eyes. My cell rings, and I see his name flash on my screen. I can’t answer. As soon as I hear his voice, I’ll lose my barely-there grip on my emotions. Instead, I send him to voice mail. The anger swirls at the pain of seeing Paisley’s tears and thinking of the way she defended him, defended us, and I did nothing.
Thirty minutes later, I’m still pacing and still mad at myself for just rushing out of there, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. I go back and forth from it being the right answer to being a coward. I’m a mess.
When a strong knock sounds at the door, I know it’s him. Sucking in a deep breath, I make my way to the door. As soon as I pull it open and I see him, I lose it, and the tears rush down my face.
My fist bounces off her door, loud enough I’m sure to cause concern from her neighbors. I couldn’t give a fuck about them; all I care about are the two people who are my entire world, and the damn door is all that’s keeping me from them.
I raise my fist to pound again, but the door swings open. Larissa is there, tears in her eyes. “Baby,” I reach for her, but she steps out of my reach, and the tears begin to fall.
“Don’t,” she warns.
“Larissa, can we talk about this? Carol told me what happened. I’m just as upset as you are, but pushing me away is not the answer. Nothing they said matters. Nothing.”
My phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I see it’s my mother. I’m going to have to call her back. I slide my phone back in my pocket, ready to fight for her. It immediately rings again. Pulling it out again, I see it’s my mom, and worry rushes over me. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in the middle of a conversation, but it’s my mother, and she never calls right back. I’m afraid something might be wrong.”
“Answer it,” she says, waving a hand in my direction. She wipes the corner of her eye, and my heart cracks seeing her tears. I never want to see her cry.
My phone stops then starts back up again; this time I answer. “Hey, Mom, is everything okay?”
“Fine, except for the fact that it’s been weeks since I’ve talked to my son. By the way, good game.”
“Thanks. I’m good,” I assure her. “I talked to Dad a couple of weeks ago.”
“That’s your father,” she scolds me.
“I know, I’m sorry. How are you and the rest of the Monroe clan?” I ask. She rambles on, but I’m not listening. All my attention is on the woman standing in front of me, wiping away her tears. I need to end this call with my mother, tell her that I’ll call her back, but I also need this time to get my thoughts in order. I’m in for the fight of my life, to prove to her that she and Paisley are a part of me and I want them in my life for now and for always.
“East, are you even listening?”
“Sorry, what?” I ask, letting her draw me back into the conversation.
“Your dad said you met someone.” Her voice is low, almost a whisper, as if it’s a secret she’s not supposed to know.
“Yeah, I met someone,” I admit. Larissa’s eyes snap to mine. They’re still brimming with tears. “I met this woman. She’s amazing, Mom. She’s gorgeous and smart, busts her ass every day, and she has these bright green eyes that remind me of emeralds. She’s a great mom, reminds me a lot of you.” My eyes never leave Larissa’s.
“She has kids?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, a little girl. Her name is Paisley, and I swear to you, she stole my heart the minute I met her.” I watch Larissa as she bites down on her bottom lip.
Mom chuckles. “How’s that going? Do you get along with her? How old is she?”
“She just turned five, and yeah, we get along great. She asked me if I would be her daddy,” I confess as I watch a tear slide down Larissa’s cheek.
Mom gasps. “How do you feel about that?”
“I want nothing more than to be her daddy. It may not be my blood running through her veins, but I couldn’t love her more if it were.”