Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Reed shrugs, conveying he’s wholly unimpressed with my logic. “If I wanted a woman and hacking her would get me that woman, then I’d do it. It’s not that deep. If I could make my dick a foot longer, I’d do that, too.”
I laugh, despite my intense pain.
Amalia, Reed’s beloved housekeeper, appears at the end of his couch and asks if we’d like some chicken tortilla soup she’s made in the kitchen.
“You know my answer to that,” Reed says. He looks at me. “It’s my favorite thing she makes.”
“Which is why I made it,” Amalia says. She winks at Reed and then looks at me, her dark eyes pleading with me to finally come eat something.
“No, thank you. Maybe later.”
“He’ll have a big bowl,” Reed says. “But no need to bring it here. We’ll come to the kitchen and get it ourselves.”
As Amalia heads off, Reed rises from the couch. “Come on, brother. You have to eat something.”
“I can’t. I feel sick.”
“The minute you smell this soup, you’ll be ravenous.”
With a loud exhale, I rise from the couch, but as I do, a phone call rings in my earbuds. “It’s Hannah! Oh my fuck!” Without waiting for Reed’s reply, I sprint toward a pair of French doors leading to Reed’s sprawling backyard and press the button to connect the call as I go. “Hi, Hannah!” I blurt excitedly. I wanted to sound like a normal, sane human who isn’t presently having a cardiac event, but I’m sure I didn’t succeed.
“Hi, Henn,” Hannah replies softly.
I come to a stop on Reed’s patio, practically panting with excitement. Reed is in the midst of constructing an entertainer’s paradise out here, so there are construction workers galore around me in every direction. But they’re not close enough to overhear me, and I doubt they’d care if they could. I want to dive right into asking if Hannah’s gotten my gifts. Heard and read my pleas for mercy and forgiveness. But instead, I ask simply, “How are you?”
“Exhausted. Sad. Confused. You?”
“Depressed. Remorseful. So fucking sorry.” I press my lips together and command myself to leave it at that. But I can’t. Against my will, a torrent of words suddenly spews out of me, concluding with, “I’ll do anything to earn back your trust again. Whatever I need to do to convince you I’m worthy of a second chance, I’ll do it. And I’ll never let you down again. I promise.”
Hannah pauses for an eternal moment. “I called to thank you for all the flowers and treats and food and stuff. The salmon dinner for my mom, Maddy, and me was particularly thoughtful. We loved the cupcakes, too. Thank you for everything. And for all the notes. And flowers and balloons. And voicemails. Thank you for everything.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath. “Did you all feast till your stomach’s delight on the salmon last night?” That’s what I put in the note that came with the salmon meal. I was hoping the verbiage would make Hannah remember our amazing first meal together in Seattle, the one that confirmed our magical night in Vegas wasn’t a fluke.
“Honestly, I could barely eat a bite, as great as the food was. I’m feeling really depressed, to be honest.”
“I haven’t been able to eat, either. I’m staying with Reed, and he and his housekeeper, Amalia, are practically threatening to force-feed me at this point.”
To my surprise, Hannah chuckles. “Reed Rivers is taking care of you in your time of need?”
I laugh with her. “He’s actually much sweeter underneath it all than you’d ever guess.”
“I’m relieved to hear you’re not alone in your apartment, if you’re feeling depressed.”
“Reed insisted I come stay with him. To put it mildly, I wasn’t in good shape when I landed on his doorstep in Maui.”
“That was a rough night for both of us.”
“When it comes to me, any and all rough nights are well deserved. I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are. You’ve definitely made that clear. I must say, you’ve been groveling immaculately.”
“I’ve meant every word.”
She’s silent.
“You don’t believe me?”
She pauses. “No, I do.”
I wait, but that’s all she’s going to say about that, apparently. “Have you seen your therapist yet?”
“No. She was out of town, so the first appointment I could get is tomorrow morning. She’s really insightful and helpful. I’m sure I’ll leave the appointment with full clarity. Or at least, a whole new level of clarity I don’t currently possess.”
“Can we make a date to talk after your appointment tomorrow? How about I fly to Seattle right now, so I can pick you up from—”
“No, no, don’t come here. And yes, we can make a date to talk. I think that’s a great idea. I’m tempted to talk to you about everything now, but I really think it makes more sense to wait until tomorrow.”