Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Nothing much,” I huff, “just got out of practice and I’m going to go home and get on the bike.”
“What’s the matter?” he asks right away. I knew if anyone could tell that something was bothering me, it would be my father. If I was in front of my mother, she would be able to tell right away. It’s like they have this parent superpower.
“Nothing really,” I lie to him but my father laughs.
“You sound like someone stole your favorite snack at school,” he teases, and I can’t help but chuckle. “How is it to be back on the ice?” He changes the subject, not pushing me, knowing that when I’m ready, I’ll tell him what is bothering me.
“It’s good, felt a little off today but…” My voice trails off and I wait for my father to say something, but he knows that I’m not done. “Can I ask you something?” The nerves start in my stomach and then spread right up my chest.
“You can ask me anything,” he assures me softly.
“How did you know Mom was the one?” I finally ask the big question I asked myself all night.
“Matty,” he calls me by my nickname, his voice going soft, “I like Helena, she’s a nice girl from what I can tell.” I smile because even if he didn’t like her, he wouldn’t tell me, the whole family would be supportive of me no matter what. “But if you are thinking this now, how do you think it will be in the future?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confusion running through me.
“You aren’t supposed to think you found the one. You are supposed to know. If it’s the one, there isn’t that question,” he explains. “There isn’t any question, it just is. There is no second-guessing when you know it’s the one.”
“It’s fine, Dad.” I cover it up as much as I can to make him not worry. “I was just…”
“It’s a big step, Matty. For both your sakes, if you aren’t sure, don’t rush into it,” he advises, and I nod my head as I pull into my driveway.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, smiling before I turn the car off and get out of it, grabbing the protein shake and the phone. “I’m going to head on to the bike, I’ll call you later.”
“Love you,” he says, like he always does, right before we hang up. Every single time, even if we talk ten times a day.
“Love you, too, say hi to Mom for me,” I reply right before we both hang up. I walk to the side of the house instead of going through the house. Making my way to the pool house I converted into a home gym, I enter the code on the lock pad and hear the lock turning to open the door. Once it’s open, I walk right to the bike that sits in the corner next to the treadmill.
Once I get on the bike, I start slow and then work my speed up. I chuck off my jacket and then my T-shirt. Two hours later, I’ve finished off the water bottle I started thirty minutes ago as I sit on the weight bench and try to catch my breath. The sweat pours off me as my phone rings from beside the bike.
I get up and walk over to grab it, looking down and seeing it’s Christopher calling me. “Yo,” I say, walking out of the gym.
“Hey,” he greets, and I can hear that he, too, is out of breath. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much, just finished the bike,” I tell him, walking to the back door and putting in the code for it. I hear the sound of the lock turning, and then walk into the back door and straight into the kitchen. I walk over to the huge, stainless-steel double fridge, pulling it open and grabbing one of the prepared meals my cleaning lady puts in there every other day. “What about you?” Walking around the island to the eight-burner stove, with double ovens, I turn the red knob for the oven, placing the container on the pan that is already inside. I set the timer for thirty minutes before I make my way upstairs to my bedroom.
The shades are still closed, so the room is pitch black, but I walk toward my bathroom.
“I just finished the treadmill,” he says, and I hear a door slam on his end. “What’s new?”
“Not much,” I tell him, putting the phone on speaker before I walk over to the shower. “Met my wedding planner,” I say before I pull open the mirrored door, turning on the water.
“Oh, nice, I still can’t believe you are actually getting married.” He chuckles.
“It’s Sofia.” I cut to the chase and walk back over to the phone that is on the counter as I look down at it.