Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. Things with Caleb, they were very…” What’s the word? “Intense. Fast paced.”
“Perfect.” She adds and pats my hand. “He was pretty darn perfect. Until he got you pregnant that is, but even now, when I look at my grandson, I can’t fault him for that oopsie. Come on. Let’s go and get you ready.”
Nathan texts as my mum is curling the ends of my hair, in a way that looks very natural and very pretty.
Nathan: Jeanine wants to have Dillan for an hour or so today. Are you okay with that?
Am I? Jeanine, I miss her.
Gwen: No problem :-) Have you got any plans?
Nathan: Yes.
Gwen: Care to elaborate?
“Stop moving.” Mum chastises as she applies mascara to my long lashes.
“Sorry.”
Nathan: I’m going to visit a friend. That’s if we can still be classed as friends.
Gwen: You have friends?!?!
Nathan: Ouch. That one hurt. I almost forgot how much of a bitch you can be.
Gwen: I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. You have a new friend now.
Nathan: Nope. She’s a bitch too. Though you’re so much better at it.
Gwen: She? Lorna by any chance?
“Done.” My mum beams and turns my face towards the mirror. “Beautiful.”
I admire my natural looking waves and the slight shade of grey above my eyes, shadowed by super black lashes. “Thank you.”
“Now for the clothes.”
Oh god, I hate picking out outfits, especially when I don’t know where I’m going. Fortunately my mum takes control. I just lie on my bed and wait for her to throw something at me.
Nathan: No, she was done with me a while ago. Besides, we were never friends.
Gwen: I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you have fun. I have to go. It was nice conversing with you again. I’ve missed it :-) xox
Nathan: Me too.
Does this mean we’re okay now? What does this mean? This is good I think. We’re talking again. I feel like dancing a little, but I won’t; mostly because I’m still angry at his attitude towards me and the fact that he showed up without warning and took my son.
But maybe he’ll start letting me in and he’ll let me help him. I won’t let him go through this alone anymore. I can only imagine what being in his mind is like with all of those memories, such terrible memories. He deserves to be understood. I want to try.
Poor Nathan. That poor, poor boy. That poor, poor man.
My mum finally decides on dark blue skinny jeans and a white vest with a long grey wool cardigan over it. I pull on my boots and wait nervously in the hall. I’ve been telling myself this isn’t a date, but I’m not stupid; of course it is. It’s just not a ‘date-date’. It’s less date like, if that makes sense, because it’s not dinner by candlelight or whatever dates are supposed to be. I’m useless at all of this.
“I’m really nervous.” I twist my hands together before me, my teeth worrying my lip.
“Too late, he’s here. My, my. He is yummy.”
“Get away from the window.” I screech and pull her laughing form away. “Stop it.”
“He saw me.”
Can I shake her? I feel like shaking her.
There’s a knock at the door. I shove my mother towards the living room and take a deep breath before opening it. “Hey.” I sound breathless, probably because I am, but it’s not from exertion or because he looks handsome. For some reason it’s from the huge fist of guilt that just nailed me in the stomach. Seconds ago I was giddy and excited and now I just feel… meh. There’s no explanation for how I feel now. Only pain.
I ignore it, push it way deep down, and smile brightly at the very handsome man before me. He looks great in a polo shirt and… shorts? Football trainers? What the hell am I being dragged to?
“Let’s go.”
“You have knee high socks on.” I state, looking at the thick blue fabric.
“Aye.” he chuckles, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “You look gorgeous.”
Blush. I need a blood filter to my cheeks; I’m so tired of turning red. “So, I’m guessing the obvious here. You’re going to force me to watch football aren’t you?”
He grins wickedly, showing a slightly crooked smile that lifts higher on one side than the other. It’s very pretty. “Get in the car and then I’ll tell you.”
“So I can’t run? That hardly seems fair.” I joke and do as I’m told.
Yet again he doesn’t open the door, but I’m prepared for it this time. Clearly I’ve been spoilt by two men who were raised as gentlemen. It’s funny because whenever Nathan didn’t open the door for me, I knew he was angry. Sometimes, even when he was angry, he still opened it, almost as if his burned in the brain manners got the better of him. Caleb was the same, but we never fought; I can only remember two arguments in our entire relationship. Sure we had minor disagreements, but eventually I usually got him to see things my way.