Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“What hobbies?” She gives me a curious expression.
“I can’t go there. Some things about my dad are too embarrassing to share.” Okay, I’ve told a handful of people, including Robbie, but I can’t tell Anna. I care too much about what she thinks of me. And as much as it pains me some days, my father is an extension of me, or I am of him.
Anna stares out the window with slow blinks, leaving us with another awkward pause. It’s suffocating. I want to ask about her writing. It’s been three years. We’ve moved on with life. But I can’t ask. And the fact that she doesn’t mention it makes me feel like it’s not a subject she’s ready to discuss.
“Can I get you anything? Food? More water? If you’re tired, go to sleep. I don’t want to leave until Shaun gets back here.”
Anna yawns. “I am exhausted. If I drift off to sleep, don’t leave without waking me.”
“Just rest.” I retrieve my phone from my pocket and scroll through my messages. When I glance up, Anna’s eyes are closed. I continue glancing through my messages, but my gaze keeps returning to her.
When Shaun returns, I lift my finger to my mouth. He nods while quietly lifting the bags of groceries onto the counter. Anna’s zonked out. Not a twitch. When Shaun returns to the garage, I bend down and press my lips to Anna’s cheek. “Bye, Anna Banana,” I whisper.
When I approach the front door, Shaun pops his head around the corner. “Leaving?” he asks in a hushed tone.
“Yeah. She needs to rest.”
“I hope you enjoyed catching up.”
“I did.”
“Anna told me you two dated before she left Des Moines.” Shaun leans his shoulder against the wall.
I nod.
“She called you her biggest regret.”
My brows lift. How am I to interpret that? Does she regret us? Or she regrets leaving? “I hope the good kind of regret if there’s such a thing.”
Shaun shakes his head. “I’m not sure. But she’s focused now. In a better place.” Shaun’s face falls to a more somber expression. “She’s a good person. Incredibly special.”
I offer him a tight smile because I’m not sure how to respond to him. The way he delivers his words is cryptic. “Well, regret is a waste of time.”
“It is.” Shaun returns a stiff smile.
I open the door. “Take care of her.”
“Always.”
Always?
I take my exclusive story and stirred-up memories of Anna and head home to Kansas City and my roommate.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Anna
“Where’s Eric?” I rub my eyes.
Shaun glances over his shoulder from the kitchen island, where he’s working on his computer and eating a sandwich. “He left.”
“What?” I wince, trying to sit up straighter. “I told him to wake me before he left,” I say to myself more than Shaun. My heart drops into my stomach.
“I’m sure he didn’t want to wake you since you need to rest.”
There was more to say. I didn’t get to apologize for … everything. I just needed to sleep off the drowsy effects of my pain meds.
Anna: U didn’t wake me!
Anna: I told u to wake me before u left
Eric: U needed to sleep
Anna: I didn’t get to say goodbye
Eric: I kissed u goodbye. We’re good
I rub my lips together. He kissed me?
He kissed me …
I stare at his message. Are we good? I can’t imagine he means it. I was the world's worst girlfriend. Over the past three years, I’ve looked for a better label, but it always comes back to World’s Worst Girlfriend. I have never been so ashamed in my life.
I type, delete, and retype my response.
Anna: Was it a good kiss?
Anna: I was the world’s worst girlfriend. Sorry
Anna: I regret so much that it deserves its own book
Anna: Will I see u again?
Anna: I forgot to ask. Do u have a girlfriend?
Anna: Do u H8 me?
My phone rings. It’s Eric.
“Hey.”
“Say it,” he says.
“Say what?”
“I’m tired of staring at three dots in a bubble. Then nothing. Then three dots. Again, nothing. You have a lot to say, but you’re not saying it, at least not in a text. So say it. Tell me everything you’ve deleted in the past sixty seconds.”
If he’s been watching that texting bubble, that means he’s been thinking of me … thinking of texting me or seeing if I’ve texted him since he left. That ignites a fire deep in my belly. Glancing over at Shaun working on his computer, I blow out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For … you know.”
Eric chuckles. “You spent that long typing and deleting, and now I’m supposed to just know?”
“I’m mentally sluggish from the pain medication.”
“It’s…” he exhales, “fine.”
“Your ‘fine’ sounds anything but fine.”
“Anna, I spent six months saying everything I could think to say to you. I put everything out there, but you had no response. And I feel like you still don’t have a response. And it’s just frustrating.”