Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
I nod several times. “Carry on.”
“You’ve been this unsolved mystery in my life. People in my line of work don’t like checking that ‘undetermined’ box. It’s frustrating. What did I miss? How did I miss it? Are there more questions to ask the family? To ask the investigators? I like things neat and tidy. Go through the process. Make a determination. Move on. But with you, I haven’t been able to move on. It’s easy to blame you for how we ended, but I, and I alone, have been the one in control of my reaction to what happened to us. And frankly … I’m disappointed in myself for moving on all these years without really letting go. I’m disappointed in myself for carrying around this chip on my shoulder. I deserved better.”
I let her words sink in; then I reach across the table and take her hand, turning it to expose her forearm and the tattoos on it. Leaves and vines like her other forearm. My thumb traces one of the vines. “I don’t think you have these tattoos to cover track marks.”
Josie’s eyes narrow a fraction, studying her arm and the tattoos as if she hasn’t seen them before, as if they’re not hers. “Cutting. I did it before it was really popular.” She grunts. “Maybe I was a trendsetter. It got me through my first year at college. Eventually, I got tired of wearing long-sleeve shirts all the time. I got tired of guys seeing them and thinking I was unstable. It just …” Her sad gaze lifts to mine. “It took away the pain. Pain numbing pain.”
My thumb continues to trace the scars underneath the black lines of ink. “Was I that pain?” I whisper.
She sits back, pulling her arm from my hand. “I didn’t tell my parents about us. I didn’t tell them how crushed I was the day you left me in the woods.” She shakes her head and whispers, “I didn’t tell anyone. Now, I realize my dad suspected something … but he didn’t know the depth of my feelings. Your mom knew, but I never let her see the extent of my pain.”
“Was I the pain?” I repeat.
Josie keeps her gaze on her mug of coffee and nods.
“Josie …”
She holds out her arms. “I let another human crawl under my skin, like the sharp tip of a scalpel. That’s disappointing. I should have known better. I should have done better.” When she wraps her hands around her mug, her eyes blink up, giving me her attention and a hint of her beautiful smile. “I know why you left me. It took seventeen years, but I know. It might take seventeen more to fully understand why I didn’t let go, why I let the ghost of our past drag me through so much pain and resentment for nearly two decades. It’s … disappointing.”
“Life is really fucking hard.”
Josie nods.
“Well, here we are for whatever reason. I say we seize the moment. We should move in together or …”
Her eyes widen.
I shrug. “Or … get married. You know … something like that.”
She’s frozen in place except for intermittent slow blinks.
Scooting my chair forward, I reach beneath the table and grab her bare legs, giving them a squeeze. “Seventeen. Years. We’ve spent too much time apart. Let’s just do it. Let’s be together.”
Josie shakes her head, lips parted. “N-no … I’m not marrying you or moving in with you. I don’t even know if I want to be married at this point in my life. And I like my living arrangements.”
“I like you in my bed,” I say.
“I was in your bed last night, and it didn’t require a certificate of marriage or a change of address.”
“You’re as stubborn and as difficult as the day we met.” I release her legs and lean back in my chair.
“For the record, Mosley, you had your chance to have all of me. I would have married you the day after graduation. But things have changed.”
“What’s changed?”
Her fingernails tap the side of her coffee mug. “I discovered my true self-worth. I realized I don’t need you.”
“Still here you are, the morning after spending the night with me.”
She grins. “I said I don’t need you. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
“What if I’m an all-or-nothing? A packaged deal? What if I don’t want to be your boy toy?”
“You’ve been my boy toy since the day we met.”
She’s not wrong.
“What if I want a wife?”
She pushes back in her chair and stands, clutching her purse. “Then you should have married your daughter’s mother.”
I follow her to the door, digging my key fob out of my pocket. “Can we swap house keys?”
“Why do I need your house key when I found your top-secret location in less than ten seconds?”
I open the passenger door for her because I’m a gentleman (sorta). Before she gets in the vehicle, I pull her into my arms, forcing her to look up at me. “I love you, Josie.”