Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Although this whole situation was a shit show, Kip’s behavior at least gave me a believable reason for divorcing him when my Green Card came through.
Nora was still frowning at me, though. Her beautiful face scrunched up, her pale skin blooming with redness at her cheeks, likely from fury. “I don’t like this for you. When you finally get your miracle baby, it should be with a man who adores you, who makes this whole process magical.”
I shoved a forkful of food in my mouth as I shrugged. “Babe, you might’ve gotten the magical romance that’s almost too perfect to be real, but we mere mortals have to deal with the fact that miracles don’t happen often, and they sure as shit don’t happen in the same place. I’ve got this.” I pointed to my belly with my fork. “That’s miracle enough for me. That’s magic enough for me. Even though my proximity to the toilet bowl during my first trimester didn’t exactly feel magical,” I joked.
Nora’s eyes shimmered. “But you deserve the magic. All of it.”
My throat burned with the emotion in her voice. Now that I had gotten over the morning sickness, my body had rerouted its power that was previously used for vomiting to getting me to react dramatically and hormonally to any and everything. “Don’t you get it?” I whispered. “I’ve got it.” I gestured to the windows showing the ocean. “This house. The baby. The best friend a gal could have.” My eyes went to the car seat. “The best niece a gal could have. I’ve got Tina, Tiffany, Calliope. I couldn’t have imagined a life like this. This is my magic. I sure as shit don’t need Kip.”
It was true.
Mostly.
Except after midnight.
Then I really needed Kip.
kip
She put the picture on the fucking fridge.
I didn’t know if she did it to taunt me. It sure as shit felt like she did. But unfortunately, I knew Fiona well enough to understand that wasn’t her gig. If she wanted to be a bitch, she did it to your face, not wanting you to misunderstand with manipulative bullshit. She put the photo on the fridge because she wanted to.
And it likely had nothing to do with me.
Well, it probably had something to do with me, because I also knew her well enough to know she would’ve considered the fact that I would see the photo. She could only deduce that I wouldn’t be interested in it because that was what I gave her.
Disinterest.
No rage. Not since that horrible fucking day.
I went through my day having the fewest possible interactions with her. I left early for work, stayed on as long as possible—luckily, we had a fuckload of jobs going on, so there was always work to be done across three towns—and then came home long after I knew she’d either eaten or gone to bed.
She was at Nora and Rowan’s a lot.
When she wasn’t there, she was at Tina and Tiffany’s.
Nora came here too. She pointedly ignored me or tried her best to. I guessed I was on her shit list because Fiona had filled her in on my reaction to the pregnancy. I didn’t think Fiona had filled her in on the entire marriage being a load of shit because she didn’t want to involve her friend in that bullshit, and she still kept up the charade that we were living together.
Rowan didn’t have much to say to me these days either. He spoke to me because he had to, because we were business partners, but never about anything else.
He’d lost respect for me. I saw it. Felt it. And fuck if it didn’t hurt.
Same with everyone around town. They didn’t know the details. Fiona didn’t broadcast shit like that. But they knew that she was pregnant, I was working a whole bunch, and I never went into the bakery anymore. No way in hell could I play pretend with a bunch of spectators. Not now that she had that small swell to her stomach.
So, they didn’t know details, but they could deduce. I got the stink eye from the older ladies who used to wink at me. Clients were clipped with me and jovial with Rowan. Every fucking local store I went in, no one held eye contact with me, and they sure as shit didn’t double bag my groceries.
Calliope. Fuck, that one stung. Where Nora tried and failed to completely ignore me—she was just far too much of a nice person to completely commit—Calliope acted as if I wasn’t even in the room. Like I never existed in the first place.
That hit me more than I expected it to. She’d always been my ally. Had never judged me, even when I was at my most fucked-up, my cruelest to everyone around me. I didn’t think she’d ever cut me off.