Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“You’re reading nothing?”
“It’s a thriller. About a woman who steals another man’s husband.”
“That’s… interesting.”
“What’s… interesting about it?”
“Is she the hero or the villain?” he asks.
“Are we starting a book club?”
He sits on the armchair and folds a leg. Rusty comes and sits at his feet. The fire rages, crackling, sending warmth throughout the living room. With the shutters closed, it’s like we’re in our own world. Somehow, we can forget everything and everybody else.
“Why not? It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
I sit opposite him on the couch. It feels so homely—so us. If we were a married couple or dating, I imagine the atmosphere would be just like this. “She’s the hero… at first. You think she’s stealing this man to get back at him for something he did to her in the prologue. Now they’ve introduced another point of view—the current wife. She’s showing a whole new side to her husband. It’s complicated.”
“Nothing complicated about cheating,” he says, staring at me like it’s a challenge.
“Maybe not in real life, but books are more complicated.”
“Most people have it the other way around.”
“Cheating is wrong, plain and simple,” I tell him, unable to keep the note of anger out of my voice. “It’s just… it’s not something people should do. Ever.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” he says. “If I ever found a lady, she’d be my one and only, and I’d expect the same from her.”
“I’m sure she’d give you what you want,” I tell him.
He leans forward, his shoulders almost tearing out of his shirt. He’s got such a savage look on his face. It comes and goes like the beast inside him is rising above and plunging beneath the surface. “Are you?”
“Yes,” I tell him, my heart suddenly pounding hard. “Your lady won’t cheat on you. She won’t want anyone else except for you. I’m sure your relationship won’t be as messed up as the book’s.”
“Messed up, how?”
“There’s this one scene where he’s caught having a folder on his computer. His wife’s friend’s photos are inside, taken from social media—bikini pics, stuff like that. He tries to argue it’s not a big deal because they’re all available online.”
“But saving them, even looking at them, is fucked,” he snaps. “Why would a woman even post a photo like that online? Call me an ass, but all those curves belong to her man. Nobody else.”
“That’s very… old-fashioned.”
“I’m an old-fashioned man, then,” he says. “My future lady, hell, she won’t be showing the world her curves, her voluptuous body.”
“You think…” My chest aches with my racing heartbeat. I glance toward the hallway to ensure Dad hasn’t woken up yet. “Your, uh, future lady will have a voluptuous body?”
He leans forward even more. His jeans are all wrinkled around the crotch, making it impossible for me to know if he’s as excited as he’s making me. “I know she does.”
“Does?”
He smirks. “Will.”
If I had any doubts before, that clears them up. He’s talking about me. He thinks my curves are voluptuous.
“What else will she have?” I ask.
“A nervous but also somehow confident smile. Her cheeks will get flushed when she’s excited and…” Horny. “She’ll get this cute-as-hell look in her eyes whenever she’s painting.”
He suddenly stops, looking at the hallway. I turn, thinking Dad has caught us, but again, nobody’s there. It’s like he’s seeing an image of Dad in his mind, like the specter of the guilt is haunting us. We’re playing so many messed-up games to keep indulging in this.
“She sounds like quite the lady,” I murmur.
“Yeah.” He picks up his coffee. “She is. Why don’t you put on a DVD or something?”
“A DVD… so hipster.”
“That was cutting-edge technology once.”
He says this almost sadly. It’s like he’s emphasizing our age gap again. I know it bothers him more than it bothers me. He probably thinks I don’t know what I want yet, and maybe he’s right. What I want will change. Perhaps I won’t always want to paint. Maybe I’ll decide I don’t want to go to college.
However, what I need will never change. I need him, plain and simple. I’m never going to stop.
We say nothing during the movie. After a while, I get my Kindle. Jacob looks at the screen, but I can tell he’s not seeing it. He’s thinking of something else, probably the guilt. When it’s over, he stands up.
“I’ll wake Mike,” he says. “It’ll be something tinned for dinner. Should’ve gone to Little Hope before the blizzard.”
“Tinned is better than nothing,” I tell him.
“You deserve more,” he says, and I know he’s talking about more than the tins.
Rusty follows him. A few minutes later, Jacob walks back into the room clutching a note.
“What’s that?” I ask, but I already know. It’s like reality is crashing into me slowly, making the anxiety pulse. “Where’s Dad?”