Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I was in the office when my father walked in.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He was in slacks and a button-up shirt, looking more like a banker than a criminal.
“Hey, Dad. Sorry, I’m almost done.” I was way behind schedule, so distracted by my situation with Axel that I couldn’t focus on anything.
“There’s no rush. I came here to invite you to dinner tonight.”
“Oh.” Normally, I would jump at the chance, but right now, my life had become hectic.
“Let’s go to La Fornaio. I know you love that place.”
“I do, but…”
“Do you already have plans?” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
The only plans I had were trying to get Axel to talk to me, but I’d grown tired of the cat-and-mouse game. “Um, sure.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six forty-five.”
“Alright.”
He smiled before he walked out of the room.
I tapped the screen of my phone, hoping there was a text from Axel, but there wasn’t. He ignored me.
I didn’t put as much effort into my appearance as I normally would. I didn’t have the energy, the ambition. The hollow pain in my stomach had become permanent, and everything seemed to take far more energy than I had. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a face I didn’t care for, and no amount of mascara and eyeliner would change that.
What if Axel dumped me…because he wanted to?
What if he really had grown tired of me?
What if there was no bigger reason?
I slipped on my heels just as my father knocked on the door. I dreaded this dinner, didn’t have the desire to sit there and chat over food when I didn’t have an appetite. I loved my father and he was my best friend, but even his company was undesirable.
I grabbed my clutch and opened the door. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He touched my arm then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
He held the door open for me then walked beside me in the hallway. “What are you going to get?”
“For what?” I asked.
“Dinner,” he said with a chuckle. “You usually know before we even get in the car.”
“Oh…right.” I forced a smile. “I’m not sure yet, been busy today. What about you?”
“Maybe the lasagna, but it depends on their specials.”
We got into the back seat, and his driver took us to the restaurant, which was several blocks away and a long drive with all the traffic. We spent that time in silence, and I ached to check my phone, to see if Axel had texted me, even when I fully knew he hadn’t. I looked out the window and noticed all the couples on the street, holding hands or eating gelato together. I pictured Axel walking down the street, holding the pizza box that he would deliver right to my door.
“Sweetheart?”
I turned to look at my father.
He stared at me, like I was supposed to say something.
“I asked how your friends are doing.”
“Oh…they’re good,” I said. “Shelly and I went wine tasting last week.”
“That’s nice,” he said with a nod. “Everything alright? You seem distracted.”
“No, I was just daydreaming.” About a man who may not want me anymore.
We arrived at the restaurant and were seated at a table for two. There was a little vase of flowers on the white tablecloth, and a short and fat white candle sat there, the single flame still because there was no draft in the restaurant.
Our menus were presented, and my father immediately ordered the wine for the table. The basket of bread was placed between us, and while I would normally devour it, I had no desire.
My father finished with his menu and set it aside. “You haven’t looked at your menu, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” I grabbed it and held it up. “Yeah.” I scanned through it, decided on my usual, and then put the menu down.
The waiter poured the wine then took our orders.
“What are your specials?” my father asked.
The waiter listed them all off. “Salmon pappardelle, lobster ravioli in a cream sauce, and grilled swordfish with mashed potatoes.”
“The lobster ravioli sounds good,” he said as he handed his menu over. “I’ll take that. And sweetheart, the gnocchi?”
“Yeah…sure.”
“My daughter will take the gnocchi.” He grabbed my menu and handed it over.
When the waiter walked away, I took a big drink of the wine and swirled it in the glass before I took another sip.
My father watched me but kept his thoughts to himself.
I tried to think of something to talk about, but I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Couldn’t think of anything to say, when normally, my father and I talked effortlessly.
“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, his fingers on the stem of his glass.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I stared at my wine as I said it, but my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “You know what?” I raised my chin and looked at him, releasing a heavy breath. “No, I’m not okay.”