Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Let’s talk.” I tilted my head toward the couch.
She followed me to the sofa, sitting primly with her hands crossed in her lap. I was going to miss her stance. The little, disapproving purse of her lips. Her sarcasm, and goodwill, and quirky fascination with waffles. But it had to be done. I couldn’t go around getting hurt by people. Sticking around, making sacrifices, only to be disappointed. Plus, Duffy was a high-risk investment. Women who were after money were after power, and there would always be someone with more power in their vicinity. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to keep her.
“I’m boarding a plane to Morocco today.”
Her facial expression didn’t change, other than one minor flinch. “Of course. You said you have work there. Maybe when you get back home—”
“I have no home,” I said, cutting into her words. “This is your apartment, not mine. In fact, I’ve outstayed my welcome. We’ve already filed our application, complete with all the necessary proof that we live together. No point in prolonging the inevitable.”
“You’re moving out?” Her mouth slacked. Micko used the opportunity to jump on the couch and settle in the small gap between us, shifting her glare left and right to see who’d be the first to pet her.
I rubbed behind her ear absentmindedly. “Don’t worry about Micko. Winnie wants her. Arsène is going to kill me, but I know she’ll take good care of her.”
Besides, Arsène had always wanted to kill me. Nothing new under the sun.
“Wh-where will you stay in New York?” She blinked.
“Christian’s. Arsène’s. The usual.” I stood up, knowing that every moment I stayed brought me closer to changing my mind and begging her for a chance. “Don’t worry about the interview, though. I’ll be there, and we’ll ace it. All right?”
I could tell she was in shock. I could also tell that I was fucking in love with this woman. Seeing her hurt destroyed me so thoroughly I was surprised I was still able to stand on my two feet. I felt like my soul had been pulled from my body by a rusty rake and tossed into the depths of hell.
But that was exactly why I had to leave.
I was in love with a woman who wanted an arrangement.
And me? I wanted the whole fucking deal.
“So it’s over?” She rose up slowly. “You and me?”
Say no. It’s not. Grab her. Kiss her. Throw your heart on the line. Be a fucking man, Riggs. You’ve climbed mountains. You’ve braved rain forests. Do it, goddammit.
“This has no future.” I motioned between us, my tone dead. “You knew that.”
Her eyes roamed my face wildly. Whatever she was searching for—doubt, second thoughts, regret—she didn’t find it.
“Yeah.” She licked her lips, averting her gaze. “I guess you’re right.”
Kill me now.
I went over to my pile of clothes and started thrusting them one by one into my backpack. Grabbed a white henley and put it on, then shoved my feet into my boots.
I couldn’t look at her. Hell, I couldn’t even stand her looking at me.
“Can I just ask you one thing?” I felt her eyes following my movements.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
“Did you get the blood work results? And if so, what were they?”
I stopped, a balled pair of pants still in my fist. I looked up and smiled at her sadly. “I’m not a carrier of the disease. I actually spoke to a specialist. He said the migraines were likely due to elevation issues from being a mountain climber.”
Her frame drooped with relief. “That’s good to hear. Thank you for telling me.”
“Thanks for caring.”
“Course I care, Riggs.” She looked away so I wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “I’ll always care. I want you to know that. You’ll always have a home in me. No matter where you’ll be.”
This was torture. Plain torture.
“And . . .” She inhaled shakily. “If you need any money . . . well, I still have some savings.”
I stared at her, flabbergasted. “Huh?”
“Yeah.” She pretzeled her fingers, looking embarrassed to offer. “I mean, it’s not much, but whatever I have is yours. I know those medical bills can pile up.”
“And how will you afford rent?” I asked, fascinated. The woman who was obsessed with money had just offered to give me whatever was left of her measly fortune.
“I won’t.” She bit on her lip, moving around the small apartment, helping me look for belongings of mine. “I’ll crash at Laura’s. Don’t worry, she owes me plenty of favors.”
“You’re a terrible gold digger.” I sighed, thinking it’d be so much easier if she was actually good at being a heartless bitch.
“I know.” She smiled delicately. “It’s ridiculous. I wish they gave classes.”
This charade had gone on long enough. I couldn’t fucking do it anymore. I was about to do something that’d earn me a place in the Dumbasses Hall of Fame, a Guinness record, and possibly an I’m a moron hat.