Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“Destiny is fucking me up the ass, that’s what.”
Tristan raises an eyebrow. “Strap-on, or cock?”
Christopher chuckles as he turns his phone off and puts it on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up,” I snap. “Trust you to make a joke of my life.”
“It is comical,” he says dryly. “And you are a clown.”
Jameson arrives with a tray of beers, places them in front of us and falls into a seat, looks over at me. “What?”
“My life is a fucking disaster,” I scoff.
He rolls his eyes. “So dramatic.”
“What now?” Christopher says.
“Well, I’m happy.”
They nod.
“And you know that I’m obsessed with Harriet Boucher and have had a private investigator searching for her for over six months?”
“Yes,” they all reply.
“And you know how I’ve seen that beautiful blonde woman at her auctions for years and have never been able to find her afterwards? And that I’ve felt a connection to her as if she is someone I should know?”
“The ballerina?” Tristan asks.
“That’s her.” I take a gulp of my beer; this story is nothing short of horrifying.
They all sit back as they listen.
“I got an email from the private investigator last night, he found Harriet.”
“That’s great.” Christopher smiles.
“The ballerina is her.” Their faces fall. “I’m supposed to meet her in France next week.”
Jameson slumps back in his chair. “Well, I’ll be fucked.”
“And Kate told me that she loved me last night.”
They all blink, shocked.
“So, all along I’ve been waiting for a sign from the universe. I believed I would have that destined meeting or whatever that was. I’ve been obsessed with one woman, and searching for another woman’s paintings. And I find out that they are the same person on the night that my new girlfriend . . . there, I said it . . .” I hold my fingers up and air-quote the word “. . . girlfriend . . . tells me that she loves me.”
Their faces fall.
“And, I think I love Kate . . . Actually,” I correct myself. “I know I’m in love with Kate.”
“Fucking hell . . .” Jameson winces.
Tristan’s eyes widen and Christopher puffs air into his cheeks.
I look at the three of them as I wait for their reaction. “Well, are you going to say something?”
Jameson curls his lip. “You’re fucked.”
Tristan and Christopher nod in agreement.
“Well, what’s your thought process?” Tristan asks.
“I haven’t slept. All night I’ve been going over different scenarios.”
“Such as?”
“What if Harriet is the woman I’m supposed to be with? I’ve known from day one that I saw her painting that she was special. I’ve adored the ballerina from afar and to find out they are the same person is . . .” I pause as I try to articulate my words. “Mind-blowing.”
They all listen intently.
“But then there’s Kathryn. We hated each other for so long. I was never attracted to her. One day it was like a lightbulb went off and I could think of nothing else.” I take a depressing sip of my beer. “She is . . .” I pause. “Just so beautiful.”
Jameson frowns. “You’re the happiest I’ve seen you in a very long time.”
“I am. Since Kate and I got together, we’ve spent almost every night together.”
“Every night?” Christopher frowns. “Like virtually every single night?”
“Yep, I can’t stand the thought of her going back to her house for even one night.”
Tristan holds his forehead as he leans his elbow on the table. “You’re completely fucked.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” Jameson asks. “What are the options?”
“I can stay with Kate and always have regrets and wonder, what if.”
They all wince.
“Or I go to Harriet and try with her, and leave Kate.”
“Can you just leave Kate?” Christopher asks.
“I don’t know.” I sigh sadly. “I know that if I leave Kate now I’ve been the biggest fucking asshole in all of history.”
They all listen.
“I haven’t played games. I’ve been completely myself and haven’t held back at all.”
They all wince again.
“This is why I’m never falling in love,” Christopher snaps. “No way in hell am I giving my balls on a platter to a woman.”
Tristan rolls his eyes. “That statement right there is why you aren’t in a relationship. When you love someone, you give them your heart, not your fucking balls, you dipshit.”
Christopher sips his beer. “My wife will be getting my balls, straight down her throat.”
We all chuckle as we take a drink and then we fall silent.
“So . . . what now?” Jay asks.
“I feel like Harriet is destined. I know you all don’t believe in fate. But I do, I always have.”
“Look, I never believed in fate. I always thought that I would meet some beautiful young woman and it would be easy,” Tristan says.
I listen intently.
“And then I met Claire, and everything I thought I wanted went out the window. Her kids hated me and I had to fight tooth and nail to convince her to love me. Never in a million years did I ever imagine my life as it is now. But I honestly believe I am where I’m meant to be. Claire and those kids were meant for me, and the bigger picture of my destiny was already mapped out. They were my family long before I even met them; perhaps before they were even born it was decided that they would end up being mine.”