Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
She nodded and left.
“Seriously, though, with that sexy boyfriend you have at home, why aren’t you smiling? Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”
“I hate that saying.”
“That’s because it’s effective. Everyone loves puppies.” He took a drink before asking, “Did Madison find out?”
“Yeah. That morning right after you left, actually. She walked in on us together.”
“Jesus, Hutch. And you didn’t say anything?”
I cocked a brow. “Are you surprised?”
With a sigh, Isaac said, “No, no, I’m not. Clearly, it didn’t go well.”
No, it hadn’t. “Let’s order first. Then we can talk.”
We each took a moment to look over the menu, and when the waitress came back, I got the blackened salmon and rice and Isaac asked for the same.
“Now spill.”
“You’re very bossy.” But the truth was, I was there because I wanted to talk to him. I was trying to get better at this. “I don’t totally know what to say. I’m in love with my sister’s ex-husband. I kept it from her. She caught us together. She’s hurt and angry. She asked for time. She took five years to get over the last time Ryder hurt her. My father hates me, and my mother is trying to pretend she’s a neutral party, which really means supporting my father.”
Isaac grinned.
“What I just said gives you the need to smile?”
“You said you’re in love with him…so easily.”
My gaze darted away. “Shut up.”
“Real mature.”
“I never claimed to be.”
“I’m sorry, Hutch. I said this before, and I’ll say it again: you deserve to be happy too. Not everyone gets their chance at happiness. You can’t walk away when you have the chance at yours.”
“Even if it hurts others?”
“Yes. Maybe I’m just a selfish son of a bitch, but yes. What does Ryder have to say about all this?”
“He’s doing his best to be supportive. He tries so damn hard, and I’m so thankful I have him, but…sometimes I’m angry with him. No, angry isn’t the word. Envious? And so I take it out on him, because his family accept us. They love him in a way my own family doesn’t with me. What kind of man would be hurt about that? I’m supposed to want that for him.”
“The human kind, that’s what type of man. Jesus, Hutch. You put too much pressure on yourself, and let’s not pretend for a moment that you don’t actually want that for him, because you do. You’re just hurting, and you’re figuring out how to deal with that. We all get jealous, and we’re all selfish. If we don’t feel those things sometimes, we’re not really alive. Cut yourself some slack.”
I hoped he was right. While a part of me knew he was, it was still difficult to accept that about myself. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. What’s going on with you?”
He glanced away, shook his head, and when his eyes met mine again, they were filled with melancholy. “I can’t.”
“I’m your friend. Let me be here for you.”
“I can’t tell you this, Hutch. Not right now. If it was just about me, I would, but I can’t…not when I know it affects someone else.”
Concern pricked at the back of my neck, took root in my bones. “This is serious, then.”
“Not physically. It’s nothing like, threatening. No one’s sick or anything like that. I just… It’s not only my story to tell.”
I nodded. “I’m here if you need me. No matter when, okay? And whatever you say stays between us.”
“I know, man.”
The waitress arrived with our food then, and as much as I hated to, I let the subject go. Isaac was going through enough, and harassing him to tell me something he clearly didn’t feel comfortable saying wouldn’t help.
When lunch was over and we said our goodbyes, he surprised me by giving me a brief hug. “Thank you. For not pushing.” And then I watched as my friend walked away.
The restaurant we’d chosen for lunch was close enough that I could walk home, and when I got back to my building, Cliff, one of our concierges, waved me over. He was a friendly guy who always made conversation when we were coming and going—not just with Ryder and me, but with everyone. “Hey, Doc Hutch. How’s it going?”
“Not too bad. You?” I walked toward the desk.
“I can’t complain.” He held up two envelopes. “Ms. Madison dropped these off for you and Mr. Lynwood. I’m assuming it’s okay for you to take his, but he should be getting back soon, so I can save it for him, if you’d rather.”
Madison had been by? Nerves and hope warred inside my gut. “I can take Ryder’s too. Thank you.” I plucked the two white envelopes from his hand, my name on one and Ryder’s on the other in my sister’s familiar writing.
“Have a good day!” Cliff called out as I made my way toward the elevator.