Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“I’m going,” Brooks says. “Let me know what you decide.”
The front door closes with his exit, but neither I nor Kit stop looking at each other.
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”
“I’m asking nothing, Kit. I want nothing from either of you.”
He pops up from the sofa, his hands running through his dark hair much the same way Brooks did in his office earlier.
“You’re not only telling me I can’t be involved in my child’s life, but at the same time, you’re wanting Brooks to keep his distance as well.”
“It’s easier this way.”
“Easier? You’re fucking joking, right? There’s nothing easy about it. I can’t just stand back and watch my child grow up without being a part of his or her life, and you can’t expect Brooks to take a back seat, looking like some fucking deadbeat dad.”
“I’d never ask him to pay child support or anything.”
“No one will take care of that shit but me,” he snaps, his anger growing even more. “It’s my responsibility.”
“It’s not—”
“If you open that pretty little mouth of yours one more fucking time with some stupid shit, I’ll stuff it with my cock, Jules.”
That shuts me up, my head snapping back.
He huffs in distaste when my cheeks start to turn pink. I can feel the heat across my face.
Now is not the fucking time to get turned on by this man. We had what we had, and it’s over. I got what I wanted despite the fucking mess I’ve put us all in.
He’s pissed, livid, and he doesn’t even know the real truth. I pray he never finds out.
“Please,” I beg, realizing he’s misunderstanding what I need when his eyes drop to my lips. “I need you to go along with this.”
His eyes meet mine once again, and although I can see a little more softness in them than there was just a moment ago, his annoyance with what I’m asking is still very much there.
“That weekend was a mist—”
“I swear on everything I fucking believe in, Jules, if you say it was a mistake, I’ll lose my shit.”
“Please,” I whisper again. “If you’ve ever cared for me at all, I need you to do this for me.”
“That’s a low fucking blow, baby.”
Baby.
God, how many times did he call me that? A dozen? A hundred?
I continue to watch him, begging him not to make things worse, but when he nods in agreement before walking out of my apartment, I don’t feel any relief.
Chapter 13
Kit
I don’t get very far from her house before I have to turn my truck right back around. We can’t ignore what’s happening, and there’s no way I can just sit idly by while she raises my child alone. I don’t have it in me to give her what she wants, but I can possibly accept a compromise.
Her curtains flutter when I pull back into her driveway, but despite knowing she knows I’m back, I can’t seem to leave my truck.
The silence that filled the room after she begged me to go along with her stupid plan was filled with a weirdness we’ve never shared before.
I press my fingers between my eyes when I’m reminded that isn’t exactly true.
Long ago, before I graduated from high school, Jules and I were what I’d considered friends. We’d chat when she stayed the night with Beth. She’d join me in the living room where I planted myself on the off chance that she’d come downstairs, needing a snack or something to drink.
The first time it happened, she stood off to the side while we engaged in conversation about whatever stupid show was on the television. Eventually, she’d take up a spot on the couch and watch those shows with me. It was in those moments that I felt like my teenage self had won the lottery. I lived for the weekend when she would sneak down after Beth fell asleep so we could talk. She told me about her dreams and the things that she wanted to do with her life. It didn’t bother me at the time that her hopes of being a successful businesswoman didn’t line up with my idea of a happy life. I knew even then that people changed their minds. I knew in my soul I could make her love me the same way I loved her.
The late-night conversations expanded into texts during the day. If she was happy, she’d text me to tell me about it. If she was upset, I’d get those texts as well.
We were friends, and although she never even hinted that there could be more between the two of us, I held out hope that one day she’d wake up and finally see exactly what was in front of her.
I pushed down those same thoughts during the time we spent together at my sister’s wedding because I learned long ago that hope like that, hope that Jules would one day be mine, was a one-way ticket to heartbreak.