Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I stumble a few feet backward, my legs hitting the edge of Marek’s bed. I sit down heavily on the mattress, staring at the floor.
“Owen knew about it,” my mom says, and my head snaps back up to look at the phone with surprise. “He’s been trying to buy this place from your dad and me for months now. I find it horrendous that he stopped asking once you agreed to marry him, I guess figuring he’d get it through inheritance.”
“But how did he know?” Marek asks.
“Because we provided a letter of intent to the bank, showing them the proof of the gas and that we were in the process of leasing or selling. It’s why the bank extended the note for us the first time. But after you left for North Carolina, Owen started hounding us again.”
“And we would have sold to him too,” my mom adds. “But he just wasn’t offering enough. The gas company offered more than triple what he did.”
And I feel officially broken. I put myself through hell dating Owen and then agreeing to marry him. I went through a painful and humiliating process of planning a sham wedding all for money, and I worried myself sick over my parents’ debt.
This entire time…
For months they knew everything would be okay and I had no clue.
“Listen,” I hear Marek say softly, but my gaze is pinned back on the carpet. “I think Gracen’s had enough. How about I have her call you later, okay?”
My parents give farewells, but I’ve already disconnected mentally. I’m beyond ecstatic that my parents don’t have any financial woes, but I’m so disappointed in myself that I just need some time to process. I push off Marek’s bed and walk out of his room.
He doesn’t follow me.
Chapter 19
Marek
The light coming out from under Gracen’s bedroom door tells me she’s probably still awake. I had come upstairs with no other agenda than to check on Lilly. My parents dropped her off after watching her all day and she’s been asleep for a few hours, but I still love opening the door and looking in on her. Her face is so different when she’s asleep. So utterly relaxed and peaceful. I could stare at it for hours.
I had not intended to disturb Gracen. She’s been withdrawn all day following that run-in with Owen, and she’s not exactly happy with me that I called her parents and forced a confrontation.
But I’m glad I did. Now I know the truth of what’s going on, and more important, Gracen can let go of that unnecessary burden she’s been carrying around.
Christ, I can’t believe she’d ever let herself get into that situation with Owen. But I also understand it. Gracen’s the type who would run into a burning building to save a kitten, so it’s no surprise she’d sacrifice herself to save her parents’ house.
It was stupid, but she feels foolish enough about it that she doesn’t need me or anyone else reiterating it to her. After we put Lilly down, she escaped into her room and shut the door behind her without another word to me. I went back down to my room and got packed up for our first preseason game, which will be New York. I have to be out of here in the morning before the sun comes up, but that took about five minutes, and then I was twiddling my thumbs.
Thinking of Gracen and that shit she got herself embroiled in.
Mostly thinking of last night, though, and the fact that we had sex.
Four times before the sun came up.
If you count oral, and I most certainly do.
So fucking stupid, yet I don’t have an ounce of regret. It was better than I ever remembered, and that’s saying something, since Gracen was the best I’ve ever had. I know that has to do with the depth of feelings I had for her back when we were together, and I’m wondering what it means that it feels better now, when love isn’t even involved anymore.
But something’s involved. Maybe it’s that she gave birth to my daughter, or maybe it’s because I’ve matured.
Who knows?
My knuckles are rapping on her door softly before I can even talk myself out of it, and I don’t wait for her to invite me in. I want to make sure she’s okay.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I also want to gauge whether there’s any of that chemical spark remaining between us, or if it was truly purged from our systems last night.
Correction, if it was purged from her system last night. I know without a doubt that I want her tonight, and the night after, and the night after that.
When I step in, I find her sitting on her bed cross-legged and bent over a magazine she has opened on the mattress before her. Her head raises and she looks at me warily.