Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“I don’t need an invitation. My daughter—”
“Is my wife, my responsibility, and therefore my business. She currently does not want to speak to you. Unless I’m mistaken?” Romeo swiveled to me, raising a brow.
I didn’t need to shake my head.
He read my eyes.
He read me.
He turned back to my father. “Leave.”
“Dallas…” My father—no longer Daddy to me, I realized—wrung his suit in his hands, attempting eye contact. “Are you really going to treat your own dad this way?”
Guilt burrowed through my chest, past my ribs, and into my heart. I ignored it, folding my arms.
He tossed his hands up as Vernon materialized behind him, guiding him away by the elbow. “You told Momma you were happy.”
“I told Momma a lot of things so her heart wouldn’t break.” I swallowed. “Your heart, however, deserves to crumble to dust.”
“Allow me to make it easier for you, Shep.” Romeo planted a hand on my father’s shoulder. I was surprised the latter didn’t sink all the way through the floor and disappear between its cracks. “If I catch you here one more time, uninvited and unwelcome, I will cut your legs off to ensure your mistakes do not become a habit. Do not underestimate my mean streak. After all, I did ruin your firstborn’s reputation, engagement, and life, all within the span of one evening. I am terribly proficient where cruelty is concerned. It’s an inherited talent. Making me an enemy is not for the faint of heart.”
The steel calmness that settled into my shoulders at the sight of my father’s forced removal should have rattled me.
I didn’t recognize myself. Yet, I knew I would never return to the old me.
No matter what happened.
Georgia would always own my soul, but I suspected my heart lived here. In Potomac.
Dangerous hope bubbled inside me. Maybe my pregnancy wouldn’t tarnish Romeo’s immaculate existence.
What if I could convince him that giving someone else life was worth more than ruining his father’s?
My eyes clung to Romeo, who braced the back of an upholstered stool, glaring at me with a mixture of tenderness and aversion.
In the rare times he showed me kindness, he despised himself for it.
He scowled, misreading my longing stare as an accusing one. “I thought you wanted to get rid of him.”
“I did.”
“Why are you looking at me, then?”
“Don’t I normally look at you?”
“Only when you want to be eaten out or you’ve lost your credit card and need a new one.”
Lord, was that true?
I’d been so busy comparing him to Shakespeare’s love-struck character that I’d failed to notice I hadn’t earned any Wife of the Year awards, either.
“Well, I’m looking at you now,” I snapped. “And I like what I’m seeing.”
He jerked his head back. “Are you drunk?”
“Can’t I pay you a compliment?”
“I’m the one who does the payments in this relationship. Whatever you’re doing, stop it immediately.”
Somehow, our gazes had tangled so thoroughly, I didn’t know how to pull mine away.
He retreated first with a shake of his head. “I’m going to the gym.”
I would’ve followed him. Truly. But exercise equipment resembled distant cousins of the guillotine. Not my fault I’d entered this world with sky-high self-preservation instincts.
I pouted. “You’re always going to the gym.”
“That’s right.” Romeo threw the fridge open, snatched a water bottle, and downed the entire thing in one go. “I want to see a greater age than thirty-three, and your sole mission in life seems to be wearing me down.”
He crushed the plastic in his fist, tossing it into the recycling bin.
“Will you come to my room afterward?”
I immediately regretted the question. It sounded clingy.
I never waited for Romeo to arrive. He simply did. And on the rare occasion he didn’t, I pretended not to notice.
Romeo turned to me fully, taking me in. “Why?”
Okay. I could’ve done without the incredulity.
“Maybe I’ve missed you,” I muttered.
“I should hope not. We may not be enemies anymore, Shortbread, but we will never be lovers.” He brushed his shoulder against mine as he exited the kitchen. “Make sure Hettie cleans all the melted chocolate from the counter. Heads will roll if I find an ant inside my mansion.”
After Romeo clubbed me with the truth stick, I drew a bath to scrub his words off my skin.
I wanted us to be a couple. A real one. Not sure when that had happened, but now that I did, any other outcome would end with devastation.
The second blow of the day came in the form of a pink spot splattered on my underwear. Big, bold, and unmistakable.
And a day early.
I held the cotton to the light as if any doubt existed as to what it was. The sight sliced me open. Misery poured in through the gaping wound.
The stain felt like betrayal. Like grief and self-loathing.
I introduced the fabric to my sharpest scissors, shoved the tattered remains into the trash, and yanked the bathtub plug, refusing to fester in my own blood.