Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
"My spidey senses told me you might need me," she says, her voice laced with mischief as she raises an eyebrow. Then, with a flourish, she holds up a bottle of white wine. "And—this."
I can’t help but laugh as I reach out to grab the bottle from her, feeling the cool glass against my fingers. "You always know exactly what I need," I say with a grateful smile, shutting and locking the door behind us. The shop feels instantly warmer, more inviting, now that Violet’s here.
"It’s my superpower," she jokes, brushing a strand of her fiery red hair out of her face as she shrugs off her coat. "Plus, I figured it’s been a while since we had a proper catch-up."
"Way too long," I agree as we walk together toward the back of the shop, where my little reading nook awaits us. The cozy space is filled with overstuffed armchairs, soft blankets, and shelves lined with my favorite books. The soft glow of the string lights I’ve draped across the ceiling casts a warm, golden hue over everything, making it feel like a secret hideaway.
"So, how’s life?" she asks as we settle in, her tone light but with that underlying curiosity that tells me she’s genuinely interested in hearing every detail.
"Complicated," I admit, setting the bottle down on the small coffee table between us. "But in a good way, I think."
Violet gives me a knowing look as she grabs the corkscrew from the table and starts to open the wine. "Ah, that sounds like there’s a story behind it."
I nod, smiling as I think about Tripp. "There might be," I say, my voice teasingly vague as I reach for the glasses we keep in the cabinet nearby.
Violet pours the wine, and we both take a moment to savor the first sip, the crisp, fruity taste a perfect match for the relaxed, intimate atmosphere of the shop.
"So," she says, leaning back in her chair with a raised eyebrow, "...spill. I want to hear all about it."
I laugh, the sound echoing softly in the quiet shop. "Where do I even start?" I ask, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I realize I’m about to open up about everything that’s been on my mind. But with Violet here, I know I’m in good hands.
"How about with this mysterious man who’s got you glowing?" she suggests, her tone playful but her eyes serious.
"Okay," I say, settling back into my chair, the familiar cushion embracing me as I begin to open up to Violet about Tripp—the good, the complicated, and everything in between. I don’t hold back, letting the words flow as I recount every moment, every touch, every lingering doubt. The cozy atmosphere of the shop feels like a safe haven, the soft light casting comforting shadows as I finally let out everything that’s been weighing on me.
Violet listens intently, her gaze never wavering as I pour out my heart. She’s always been the friend who listens without judgment, the one who somehow makes everything seem a little clearer just by being there. When I finally pause, taking a deep breath, she lifts her glass and takes a long, thoughtful sip of her wine.
"I see," she says slowly, her voice carrying that familiar tone of understanding. "So, you think he doesn’t value you?"
I shake my head slightly, the smooth surface of the wine glass cool against my fingertips as I twirl it absently. "No, I know he values me," I reply, my voice softer now, laced with uncertainty. "But there’s something else. Like he’s ashamed to tell anyone about us. Like maybe he’s happy with this whole thing being his dirty little secret."
Violet nods, her expression sympathetic as she leans forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "Is there a reason you think this?" she asks gently, sensing there’s more beneath the surface.
I lower my head slightly, studying the way the light refracts through the wine in my glass, a myriad of tiny prisms reflecting the uncertainty swirling in my mind. "Yeah," I admit, the word coming out in a quiet exhale.
She leans even closer, her presence radiating warmth and understanding. "Tell me," she prompts softly, her voice encouraging me to keep going.
I hesitate for a moment, but when our eyes meet, I see the genuine concern in her green eyes, and it gives me the courage to continue. "I used to date his older brother," I confess, the words heavy with the weight of my past. "And I think he’s scared Brock wouldn’t understand."
Violet’s eyes widen, a flash of surprise flickering across her face as she processes this new information. "Oh dear," she murmurs, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and curiosity. "What do you think?"
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Brock is happy," I say, more to convince myself than anything. "He’s dating someone new, and we didn’t end things on bad terms. We just realized we weren’t good together. We never even had sex." The last part slips out, an added detail that feels important somehow, a piece of the puzzle that might explain why I’m so conflicted.