Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Flipping it over, on the back there’s the letter ‘A,’ but there’s also a note stating that Atlas receives updates on baby Benji and he thought I would like this picture.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Theadora
I’m another year older, and a litter wiser, or so I would like to believe. It’s been a month of non-stop work and visiting little Benji every chance I get. He’s doing well, getting bigger, and his new family idolizes him. I love that. I adore the fact that he will not grow up in a household like mine, and I like that he won’t ever have to worry if he’s loved.
Because he is.
In so many ways, and by so many people.
Marissa grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. Tina comes up behind me and spins around—she’s clearly drunk. More than likely as intoxicated as Marissa. I’m halfway there, but only hovering around tipsy right now.
I’m happy.
Actually, very happy.
Which is saying a lot because I haven’t been in a long time, or what feels like a long time anyway. It’s been over a month since I saw Atlas. He’s been true to his word, and he left me alone. I haven’t seen him apart from that one time when he was running, well, I think it was him. Only that photograph he left on my doorstep led me to believe I saw him that night, so I am fairly certain it was him. The picture I keep in pride of place on my refrigerator door, so I see baby Benji every time I open it. I adore him, he’s growing so quickly now.
I’m better all-round, not just physically but also mentally.
I’m stronger than I realized.
I like the me I am becoming.
And Lucy? Well, I still haven’t heard from her, but I hope she’s doing better. She needs to do better, but as my therapist has told me repeatedly, I cannot be responsible for her actions anymore. She is an adult and what she does is of her own volition. For some reason, I still find it hard to let go completely in my mind, but I know I have to for my own sanity.
“Just take a shot,” Marissa says, pushing the glass full of tequila into my face.
“Yes, take the shot,” Tina yells.
She spent all day with me today, including taking me to a spa for a day of full-on pampering including facials, manicures, pedicures, and then the most luscious of full-body massages. Then she came back, and we got ready together. My hair and makeup were done by the specialists at the spa, and I haven’t felt this beautiful and more alive in a long time.
“If I take that shot I will be as drunk as you two.” I laugh, but Marissa shoves the glass at me. We went out for dinner and drank margaritas before we arrived at the club, and the girls have had one or possibly two too many.
“And you’re having so much fun doing it.” Tina laughs and takes the shot from Marissa and shoots it herself. Marissa turns to the table behind her, then back, holding another shot in her hand. The music is loud, a thumping beat can be felt throughout my entire body, as she hands it to me.
“Drink!” she screams.
This time being given not a lot of choice, I take it and shoot it back. It burns as it goes down, and they both laugh and squeal in delight.
We dance.
Dance until they need more alcohol.
Me, I just have water, and then decide to head to the bathroom.
Walking away from my girls, I spot Sydney in the crowd at the same time as Tina. She walks over and throws her body at her, lips crashing down on hers as they make out. Guys cheer next to them, which they don’t seem to hear, or even care about.
I’m sure Sydney wants to marry Tina.
Problem is, I’m not sure Tina is ready for that, though. She has never wanted to get married, and I think she’s told Sydney that.
Marissa hooks her arm through mine, pulling me over to them. I was trying to give them their privacy, which is silly considering we’re in a packed club and privacy is extremely difficult to find. Let’s face it, the guys hooting around them don’t give a damn about their privacy.
“You two stop, this isn’t a make-out session.” Marissa laughs and pulls me back to our table. When we sit, Tina and Sydney join us not long after.
Sydney pauses when she sees me. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you.” I offer her a small smile.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming,” Sydney asks.
I look at Tina who’s watching us both. “Of course, I don’t. You’re with Tina, and I love Tina,” I reply, smiling to Tina. Sydney breathes a sigh of relief before more drinks are brought to the table.