Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“That’s fine, Libby. I know things will be handled competently while you’re away. I’m more concerned about you. Where are you going?”
Libby gulped, drawing in a shallow breath before exhaling on a soft gasp and burying her face in her hands. She wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she needed to think, and she couldn’t do that with Greyson always around. She couldn’t trust her judgment where he was concerned.
She felt Tina’s arm encircle her shoulders in a comforting hug. The other woman led her to the sofa and sat down beside her, bringing Libby’s head to her shoulder. The unquestioning support set the waterworks in motion, and Libby found herself in floods of tears as she accepted her friend’s consolation.
In the months since she had left Greyson, she had stayed strong, for Clara, for herself. The tears she had shed had been private and rushed. And they had been rare. And when she had found herself overwhelmed or frightened or lonely, when tears had been inevitable, she had allowed herself very brief moments of cathartic crying bouts. This was the first time she’d allowed herself to break. And she had needed it. Desperately.
When she finally managed to bring herself under control, she lifted her head and patted her cheeks self-consciously. But Tina wasn’t judging her. The other woman handed her a box of tissues and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I just need a break. I thought I’d take Clara to visit my parents and the Chapmans. I came here to get away from him, but he’s just always around. And I’ve made stupid mistakes. I’ve allowed . . . things to happen.” She blushed, thinking about last night. She wasn’t sure if that could be counted as a mistake, but that was the very reason she needed to get away. She needed some clarity. “And I can’t refuse to let him see Clara; he adores her. But it’s not just Clara he wants to see. And I can’t . . . I can’t let him into my heart again.”
Except . . . he was already in her heart. He had always been there, and she suspected that that was where he would stay. Probably forever.
“Has he spoken about what he wants?”
Libby blew her nose and shook her head, conflicted and confused. He had never made any secret of wanting her back, but Libby wasn’t sure she was ready for that. If she would ever be ready for that, after everything that had happened. Their new reality made that almost impossible.
After last night, neither of them had discussed an alternate version of their previous relationship. And that confused her. She should know, she should have an inkling of what she wanted and needed from him. She hated not knowing what her next move would be. The divorce had been a certainty, but she had kept making excuses not to sign those papers. Had shoved them out of sight and out of mind. And then last night had happened, and now she had no idea what she wanted.
Forgiving him was one thing. Taking him back, giving their marriage another shot, was something else entirely.
“You know that man, he’s a frickin’ closed book. Who the hell knows what’s going on in that head of his?” Okay, maybe she was being unfair, given all his recent revelations, but she wasn’t quite prepared to go into all of that with Tina right now. “I know he loves Clara, I know he wants me, but that’s the extent of it. I’m not settling again, Tina. Never again. Why can’t relationships and men and . . . I don’t know . . . life be uncomplicated? Why does it all have to hurt so much?”
She thought about the words he had said immediately after sex last night. She still wasn’t sure if he was aware that he’d said them. And how could she trust that he had meant them? It just seemed so ridiculously far fetched that Greyson would now claim to love her.
Chapter Seventeen
“What do you mean?” Greyson asked Olivia that evening after he walked her and Clara into her house.
He wasn’t sure he correctly comprehended the meaning of the statement she had just made. They had had a phenomenal twenty-four hours. Yesterday and last night had felt like a real turning point in their relationship. He hadn’t had much chance to speak with her today, but when she had invited him in now, he’d had high hopes for a repeat of what had happened between them last night.
Instead she had turned to him after they had entered the house and told him she was leaving.
“Leaving to go where?” he asked.
“I’m going to visit my parents for a few days. I wanted them to spend some time with Clara.”