Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“She may be the cheekiest little girl I’ve ever come across,” I tell him. “But she is quickly becoming the light of my life.”
His face fills with adoration as he locks his arm around me tighter, our bodies melting together as he brings his lips down on mine once again. “You’re incredible, Gi.”
My face flames, and I gently press my hand to his chest. “Sean,” I start, feeling a little nervous but needing to get this out. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear this, and I don’t want you to feel pressured to say anything back. I know we agreed to take things slow, but the last few weeks with you have been amazing. You know, despite the whole being shot thing.”
I pause, hoping I’m doing the right thing, and when he encourages me to continue by squeezing my hand, I let out a shaky breath and give it to him straight. “I’m falling in love with you, Sean.”
His eyes fill with love, and he drops his forehead to mine, a smile pulling across his lips. “About fucking time, baby,” he murmurs, dropping his lips to mine and kissing me with everything he’s got.
Undeniable happiness soars through my chest, and I kiss him back, not even caring that he hasn’t said it back. I knew he wasn’t ready, but I know his heart is in the right place, and I see him starting to heal. He’s working on it, and if he wasn’t feeling it, I wouldn’t be here in his home, sharing the space he shared with Sara and having this amazing moment with him.
And true to his word, we pretend to watch the movie while spending the next hour making out like horny teenagers, my self-control nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 20
SEAN
The early morning sun shines through my bedroom window on Thursday morning, and the first thing I want to do is reach for a bottle of whiskey. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be whiskey, it can be any form of alcohol that’s going to take the pain away.
I’ve purposely left Georgie with Cassie and Jax and made sure I have no court appearances or appointments. Because today fucking sucks. Just like it did last year and the year before that.
Because five years ago, I stood in front of my family and friends and vowed to Sara that I would love her until the end of time. Yet here I am, falling in love with another woman. What kind of monster am I?
Reaching over to my bedside table, my gaze settles over the picture of Sara as I grab my phone and silence it for the tenth time this morning. My family should know better by now.
Adjusting myself in bed, I glance at my phone. Fuck. It’s only 9:10 a.m. It’s going to be a long-ass day. Scanning through my notifications, I make sure there’s nothing important before swiping away all the missed calls and text messages from my family and promptly turning it off.
I’m not going to be good company today. All they want is to show they care and be there for me on a hard day, but fuck them. If I want to drown in a sea of self-pity then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Rolling over in bed, my hand stretches out to the empty, cold space beside me, and a pain like no other blasts through my chest.
Why the fuck did you have to go, Sara? You ruined all our plans. We were supposed to grow old together, have a tribe of kids to screw up, and live the happiest lives together. But not anymore. You left. You left me and Georgie to work it out on our own. How could you do that to us?
Climbing out of bed, I force myself through a shower. I don’t bother turning on the hot water, hoping that the chill manages to wake me up from this depression, but it’s no use. Only a new day is going to help me now.
The thought of texting Gigi shoots through me, and I instantly want to punish myself. How could I even think of her today? My wife is rotting in the ground, and I’m thinking about texting my girlfriend so she doesn’t worry about me today. Fuck, I’m a disgrace.
The day drags on, just as I knew it would, and by lunchtime, I’m pushing my way through the door of the worst fucking dive bar in town and handing the bartender my keys, knowing when I leave this place, I’m not going to be in any state to drive. Hell, at this point, I don’t even care if the fucker steals my truck. As long as I get to drown my sorrows, I’m good.
I sit at the bar with my elbows braced on the counter—one drink after another, desperately trying to dull the ache, but I should have known better. Nothing will ever ease this kind of pain.