Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
And for once, after decades of not believing in such utter rubbish, I did now. I believed her.
My fate truly was Chloe Sutton.
54
Chloe
It was a bizarre feeling, pulling up outside Liam’s place in Hedley Road, like a whole lifetime had passed by since I’d lived there.
“He’s expecting you?” Logan asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, he’s been trying to get me here for weeks. He’ll be air punching all night when I’ve taken my things.”
He parked up and got out of the car with me, standing right by my side as I knocked on the front door. It took a minute before Liam appeared at the entrance, in his slob of a shirt with his low slung jeans, the headset still on his head from his gaming tournament.
“Thank fuck,” he groaned. “Finally. I really was going to chuck it out as trash, you know.”
He was lying. Liam might be a whole different creature to me, but he had never been that much of an asshole.
I packed up the novels still waiting on the shelf, and Logan and I loaded up his car with boxes upon boxes of my essentials and trinkets. Books, and cushions, and random bits of furniture. The coffee table I’d inherited from Granny Weobley, and the sweet little chair I’d picked up at a boot sale when I was just fourteen.
I gave the apartment one final look around before I left, setting my eyes on Liam one last time as he sat on the sofa, busy on his game tournament.
This was my life.
It was hard to believe that this was really my life just such a short time ago.
It sure didn’t feel like it had when I said my goodbye to the man I thought was my world and headed my way back downstairs to my man who really was. Liam barely managed a wave before I left him, and that didn’t surprise me. Me leaving him had hardly left a dent in his reality. His reality was all invested online.
Logan and I drove back to Redwood with an audiobook on in the background, both of us caught up fast in the Arthurian trilogy. My things were rammed in the backseat, and I could hear them jangling, my heart a flutter of excitement to know that I’d be adding all my things to Logan’s house.
Except it wasn’t Logan’s house now. Not anymore. It was our house. It was my home.
The weekend was ahead of us, and that had a whole flutter of excitement of its own burning deep. We were heading to Pilsner, the safari park, the very next morning, to see the wolves and the elephants – there was one hell of a handsome hound there called Winston. And Wellington. There was a huge beast of an elephant called Wellington. I still adored Jackie’s elephant postcard, propped on her bedside table. I still wished I could’ve seen her face when she first touched his trunk.
At least I got to enjoy a whole load of cool times with her. And Logan.
I’d get to enjoy a whole load more cool times with Logan, too. Our road ahead was far from over. Even Mr used-to-be-fatalist had turned the corner on his predictions. We had so many awesome experiences to relive together and so many new ones to be made, and they were stacking up. They were stacking up so fast it made my heart sing.
We had a weekend on the coast by Frensham Beach booked up in a few weeks’ time, and a night out with the other staff from Franklin Ward at a charity quiz next Wednesday, and then Jackie’s old neighbours were coming to the house for Sunday lunch – one of Logan’s culinary delights.
Things were good.
They were great.
Really, really, really damn great.
I told Logan so as we pulled up onto the driveway that night.
“Life is brilliant,” I said with a grin – the new statement I said about five billion times through every day.
“Every moment counts,” he replied with a smile – the reply he gave to that statement about five billion times every day.
I took his hand from the steering wheel to squeeze it tight.
“Your books will have to share their space with my books,” I laughed. “I hope they get on real well.”
“I’m sure they will. I’m sure they’ll have plenty in common.”
“And we’ll have plenty for the charity shops,” I said. “No place on our shelves for doubles.”
“Indeed,” he said. “We’ll have to arrange a drop off in our increasingly busy schedules.”
He leaned in for a kiss and I peppered another three in a row on his lips.
“Let’s get your stuff moved in then,” he told me, and then he smirked his very best smirk. “I’m sure it’s going to be extremely super cool to have you as an official King Street resident.”
“Super super cool,” I said, and set off on an unpacking gallop to get my stuff moved in.