Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Chapter Eleven
Tessa
When I was a little girl, I used to dream I could fly. I told my therapist about that once, and she said it’s a very common dream for children. Children like to believe they can do anything, to the point that some fall down the stairs in an attempt to actually fly.
I never did that, but my parents had an old barstool out on the back porch. Every once in a while, I would take it out to the yard, climb on top of it, and jump as high as I could, flapping my arms.
I always ended up on the grass, and fortunately I never hurt myself because I couldn’t jump that high.
But each time I always thought… Maybe this was the time… Maybe this was the time that I would actually fly.
The dream I had about flying was similar. I would jump and then become airborne, and I would move my arms and legs as if I were swimming underwater, only I was flying through the air instead.
It was my favorite dream as a kid, flying.
A year ago, flying on a private jet would have me excited, joyous.
Right now, the best I can do is stare out the window and feel…okay. We’re at thirty-five thousand feet, and it’s a clear day. We’re immersed in the blue sky, and cottony clouds are scattered below us.
Such beauty.
I’ve always wanted to go to Jamaica. I’ve heard the people are so friendly and the food is excellent. We’re staying at a private resort, so I won’t get to see much of the sites. Not that I’ll have the energy to go sightseeing anyway.
But there is a part of me—albeit a tiny part—that feels…not excited, really, but slightly eager.
Objectively, I have no worries in this moment.
I have a brand-new job thanks to Ben. The bachelor and bachelorette parties are all planned and should be executed perfectly, again thanks to Ben.
I’ll have to repay him somehow, even if he isn’t expecting anything in return. It just seems like the right thing to do.
Then I let out a sarcastic laugh. How can I repay Benjamin Black for anything? He literally has everything. Including a private jet.
There’s no way I can pay him back.
Good thing he doesn’t expect me to. If he did, he surely would have given some hint by now.
He’s doing all of this for Braden and Skye. He doesn’t want their big weekend ruined, and I was well on my way to doing just that.
He’s not doing this for me at all. Why should he? He doesn’t know me. To him, I’m just some pathetic young woman who’s trying to heal from a rough ordeal.
He feels sorry for me—and God, I hate that.
My therapist says I shouldn’t hate being pitied when I’m pitying myself.
But I don’t feel like I’m pitying myself. I don’t really feel like anything. It’s like Garrett Ramirez took my emotions away from me. On the days when I’m not feeling completely depressed, I simply feel…nothing.
I’m doing everything I can. I was working until I got laid off. I just spent two days working at Black Inc. The work is simple, not overly challenging. But simple is fine for me right now. The old Tessa would have wanted a challenge. She would have wanted to do something besides simple accounting.
But this Tessa? The new job is working out just fine for now. Maybe sometime in the future I’ll want more. Now, I’m content to do simple tasks and collect a paycheck.
“Hey, Tess.”
I turn as Skye sits down in the seat next to me. She looks radiant, her brown eyes glowing.
“Hey.” I give her my best smile.
“Nice try,” she says.
Skye knows me better than anyone. She knows when I’m faking it.
“Sorry,” I say.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Tess.” She squeezes my shoulder. “What can I do? What can I do for you?”
“Oh, Skye. If only it were that simple.” I give her the weak smile again. “You’re doing everything for me. You’re giving me this weekend. This amazing weekend. Not just for me but for all of us.”
“That’s Braden, not me. Last time I checked, I’m not a billionaire.”
“Yet,” I remind her. “You will be after the wedding.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes dance. “It’s crazy to even think it.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
The words aren’t a lie. I am happy for her. Except I kind of forget what happy feels like. But she’s my best friend, and I remember being happy for her, and of course I’m thrilled that she’s found the man of her dreams—with all the fringe benefits he comes with.
It’s like my feelings have gone on hiatus, and I don’t know how to get them back. I get twinges of feeling now and then, like when I found the pearl in the oyster, or when I was thinking about making my mother’s Mexican recipes.