Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Tyler—”
“Do not call me, don’t reach out to anyone who is with me in the States. You won’t receive an answer. Ever.”
Her face paled.
“Since you want to write narratives, feel free to tell everyone that I’ll never come back to this country again. Not even in a fucking casket. You’re all dead to me.”
“Please, wait. I didn’t mean to—”
“Save it.” I moved past her and headed toward the exit, making a beeline for the town car.
Seattle was the only city I would ever call home again.
A Necessary Detour
Chloe
Seattle, Washington
27 weeks & 5 days pregnant
“Chloe March checked into a mental health facility six years ago!” The reporter smiled on the television. “Here with an exclusive look and a discussion for what she might’ve been there for, given her limited employment history, is Dr. Lee Ann Barbara.”
“Miss March is a real piece of work.” The doctor laughed as she speculated my visit for all the wrong reasons, too stupid to check how it lined up with my parents’ deaths.
“It’s not about the truth, Chloe. It’s about what sells…”
Tears fell down my cheeks, confirming that I was making the right decision today. No matter how much it hurt, this was the right decision, once and for all.
Tyler’s footsteps suddenly sounded in the hallway—followed by his small rolling suitcase—and I turned off the television.
I double-checked to make sure I had everything I needed and stood to my feet.
He smiled when he stepped in the doorway, but it quickly faded. “Why does it look like you’ve been crying all day?”
“Because I have.”
“Want to take a shower and talk about it?” He looked around the room. “Wait a minute. Where are your things?”
“Kristin and Madison helped me move them over the weekend.”
“Move them where?”
“Out.” My voice cracked. “I moved out.”
He loosened his tie. “Am I missing something?”
“I can’t stay here anymore.”
“You’re not returning to the cracker box, are you?”
I smiled. My heart hurt too much to laugh.
“I’m not living there,” I said. “It’s … somewhere else.”
“What’s the address?”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t know.”
He blinked, confused.
“I can’t live like this, Tyler,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’m done. I can’t be with you anymore either.”
“What?”
“I’m not built for this,” I looked into his eyes as he stepped closer.
“I thought we discussed you giving me time to figure it out for the long-term.”
“I don’t think there’s a solution for this,” I said.
“Chloe—”
“This isn’t living.” A lump rose up my throat. “Everything you do has to be planned with a schedule, and you can’t spontaneously do anything without it being a story. And I can’t either anymore.”
He stepped forward and caressed my cheek, but I shook my head.
“I’ve lost my job, my privacy, and with today’s stories, I’m on the verge of losing the will to live,” I said. “Nothing is off limits for them. Nothing…”
“You’re leaving me because of the press?” He narrowed his eyes.
“I’m leaving you because I just need time to myself, time without being with a royal.”
“I’m not a royal anymore.”
“Maybe not officially,” I said. “But you always will be to anyone who sees you. You’ll always be someone worthy of writing about, and anyone on your arm will be fair game, too.”
“You’re able to brush it off and go about your day,” I said. “I lay in bed awake at night and cry, replaying it all and wondering if they have a point.”
“You can learn to adjust to it.”
“Not if I don’t want to,” I said. “I don’t want to. And I think your sister coming here made that more than clear.”
“Priscilla was here?” He raised his eyebrow. “When?”
“Recently,” I said.
“What did she say to you?”
“Enough for me to see this isn’t for me.”
“My family is full of shit.” He clenched his jaw. “Every single one of them is terrible, her included.”
“Even terrible people can make great points.”
“We’re about to be parents, Chloe.”
“That’s why I drew up a brand-new co-parenting plan.” I held out a folder, but he made no move to grab it. “I’m open to negotiating whatever terms you may feel are unfair.”
“I’m not co-parenting my children with you, Chloe,” he said. “We’ll figure this out.”
“I already did.” I left the folder on the bed. Then I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked toward the door.
He grabbed my hand and spun me around. “What’s happened between our trip and now? You’re being ridiculous.”
“I read between the lines of your farewell statement.” I pulled my hand away. “I didn’t catch it at first, but it’s pretty clear now. You may hate your family, but they’re your fallback plan if your life here doesn’t work out. You didn’t say it explicitly, but I’m not Hazel. I know that what’s not directly written is silently implied, and I know that I wouldn’t be welcome there if you had to return.”
“Now you’re being even more ridiculous.”