Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
After a few quiet moments, she spoke, “I’m not sure I would’ve survived without my mom. She never stopped calling, emailing, sending letters, reminding me she was there ready to take me in whenever I needed her. She’d even drive five, six hours to come stand outside my work just so she could lay eyes on me. When I think back to that time, how I let Jesse convince me she was a bad person, I have this overwhelming physical response. I feel like being sick, like someone’s shoved a hot poker into my gut. My betrayal of her, it was unforgiveable. But her love was boundless, it knew no end, and then, when I did finally leave him, she drove those six hours again to come get me.”
A sheen of emotion filled her eyes. Instinctively, I reached out, placing my hand softly on hers. Self-recrimination threatened to drag me under. A parent’s love was unique, but why couldn’t I have been more like her mam? Why didn’t I push through my own bullshit and realise Charli wasn’t as happy, well-adjusted, and confident when she’d set off for college as I’d let myself believe?
“I’m sorry,” I said gruffly, a rough edge to the words.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered back.
Headlights lit up the driveway, announcing Derek’s arrival with his kids in the back of his car. I wanted to explain to Charli that yes, I did have something to be sorry for, but that was a long, difficult conversation, and she was already upset. It wasn’t the moment to add to it.
Derek cast us a curious glance as he emerged from his car. He must’ve sensed we were having a serious moment because he left us to it. Charli sniffled and stepped away from the wall. “We should go in.”
“If you need a few more minutes to just be out here, that’s fine.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I just …” Her eyes came to mine, all glassy and endlessly golden brown with flecks of green. “Thank you for letting me talk. Sometimes I get so scared to tell people about Jesse, fearing they’ll judge me, but you didn’t, and I’m grateful for that.”
Fuck. I hated that she felt that way, but I completely related to the instinct. It felt like another lifetime, but I remembered hiding things, feeling too insecure to tell my closest friends what my father had done to Mam and me.
I motioned for her to go first, and she walked toward the front door. When we entered the house, Charli excused herself, and I went into the kitchen, where most of the Balfes had gathered, minus Padraig.
“Was that Charli I saw with you outside?” Derek asked, lifting a beer to his mouth.
“I’ve been giving her a lift home on Fridays,” I said, not explaining what we’d been standing outside talking about. “Seemed silly not to since we’re both heading the same direction.”
I didn’t fail to notice the look he and Nuala shared, and I began to wonder if they’d been talking about me. About us. It felt like that summer all over again, being drawn to Charli more and more until we were spending almost every day together.
“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Jo said. “I’m sure Charli appreciates it.”
“Did you know her ex-husband is withholding a collection of ornaments she inherited from her grandmother?” I asked, still feeling irritated about it. Last week, Charli pleaded with me to let it lie, but I was finding that difficult. She deserved to have what belonged to her returned.
“Yes, she mentioned it,” Nuala replied sadly. “God, that Jesse is such a fucking arsehole.”
“Language, Nuala,” Jo scolded.
“I’m thirty-three years old, Mam. I can swear.” A faint grin shaped her lips.
“Well, I suppose that man deserves it,” her mother allowed just as Padraig arrived home. He kissed Jo on the cheek, and they began quietly chatting about their day.
Derek’s parents’ relationship truly was something to envy. They had such an easy, caring way with one another, and a part of me yearned for the same dynamic. It had rarely been that way with Steph and me. Don’t get me wrong, there was a six-month period where I’d thought the sun shone out of her backside, but that had been short-lived. After I’d proposed, things had slowly started to change.
It had felt like no matter what I did, she’d been unsatisfied. My house hadn’t been good enough, my job hadn’t paid enough, we hadn’t taken as many holidays as her friends did during the year. And I’d bent over backwards to please her because I’d felt like I was punching above my weight, and a woman as beautiful and smart as Steph could have any man she wanted. The way she’d felt about Shay being my best man at the wedding was abhorrent to me, but there had been many warnings leading up to that until at long last I changed my mind about marrying her.