Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“No, I don’t, but it’s the truth. You’re naturally beautiful, even when you’re not done up like tonight. You have gorgeous lips, ample tits, a fit body, and a mighty fine apple bottom.”
The bluntness of my words surprised me. She looked a little taken aback as well.
She waved her hand. “Oh, go on.”
“You think I’m kidding.”
“No, I meant, go on and on. Keep going.” She laughed.
We just stared at each other for a bit. She looked embarrassed, and I wished I could have kissed her and made it worse.
Simon, what the fuck are you doing, you wanker?
“I probably should stop talking, actually,” I said. “You might evict me. I’m being inappropriate, given our arrangement and your life situation. I shouldn’t be staring at Brendan’s mum’s apple bottom.”
“See, you hit the nail on the head. It’s not easy as a single mother to find someone willing to see past my ‘situation.’ It’s part of why I haven’t really considered dating until recently. Not only has it seemed too soon after Ben’s death, but realistically the chances of finding someone physically attractive, smart, honest, who would also want to take on this massive responsibility is basically nil. Honestly, I don’t know if I would really want to deal with my situation if I were a guy. So, it’s hard. And it gets lonely sometimes.”
This woman wore her vulnerability on her sleeve. But I loved that she was so honest.
She let out a deep breath. “God, I’m telling you too much. I didn’t mean to bear my soul like that.”
“It’s apples and oranges.”
“What is…something you’re juicing in the morning?”
“No. You and most of the women—girls, really—who I date. It’s like apples and oranges. You’re a real woman, Bridget, in every sense of the word. Someone like you knows exactly what she needs. You have your head on straight and your priorities in the right order. You appreciate what really matters in life because you’ve experienced the worst of it. You’ve had a lifetime of experiences at a young age. You’re amazing, really.”
And that’s why I can’t fuck with you.
She looked like she didn’t know how to take the compliment. “Will you stay and have a drink with me? I really feel like one, and you know my rule about never drinking alone.”
As much as I knew I probably should’ve gone back to my unit, my other unit was really enjoying being with her. I couldn’t say no.
“Sure, I can.”
Bridget disappeared into the kitchen to fetch some wine. She was taking an unusually long time to return, so I decided to check on things.
“Everything okay in here?”
I noticed that she was holding a piece of paper in her hands. She stood there frozen, looking gutted.
“I found this in the trash. Brendan must have discarded it when he came home from school.”
My heart sank when I took the bright orange flyer from her hands, which read: Father Son Field Day.
Oh, shit.
She continued, “I could only imagine how he must have felt. How could they have even let him go home with this in his backpack? They all know his situation.”
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to hurt him intentionally, but it was stupid.”
She closed her eyes then let out a breath. “You know, you go about your life as best you can, trying to forget the pain and then something like this comes along and just throws it all in your face again.”
Not knowing what else to say, I simply placed my hand on her forearm. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “God, you must find this house so depressing sometimes, constant reminders of death.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of life in this house, too. Living here has been a learning experience for me. Before I moved in, I was just some bloke living alone who did nothing but work, sleep, and screw around once in a while. It’s eye-opening to see what you go through.”
She took the flyer back from me. “I don’t even know what to do about this.”
“You can’t fix everything, unfortunately.”
“I would want to just keep him home from school that day, but that’s sending the wrong message, too. I don’t want him treated any differently because he doesn’t have a dad.”
“Will you talk to him about it?” I asked.
“I’m not sure whether I should. He clearly didn’t want me to see this.”
“Do you think, in some way, he was trying to protect your feelings, too?”
“You know, it’s funny you say that. As young as he is, he does have a protective way about him. There are times when I’ve broken down, and he’s been the one to comfort me.”
“You have a great kid there, very wise for his age and respectful. That’s all you.”
“Thank you. He was very difficult to conceive, but he’s been an easy child since he was born. I’m pretty lucky.” She put the flyer back into the trash and began to massage the tension in her own neck with one hand.