Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Okay, since he invited me to Mind tonight,” he admits, not without discomfort.
“What’s Mind?”
“Only the newest club. The waitlist is a mile long.”
I feel my lips flatten out, but I won’t ask. I’ll just assume it’s one of Raif’s.
“The good news.” Palm up, I fold in my fingers in and out. Give it to me.
“You know how I’ve been trying to get my art into one of the Mayfair galleries for ages? Not that I’m not grateful for all of your help, of course.”
I make a noise. Maybe a grunt. Urgh, men! Is it just me or does it sound like I’m about to discover I’ve been used again?
“Don’t pull that face. It’s good news, honestly. The best!” His hands grip my shoulders, and he gives me a tiny, excited shake. “I’m sick of chasing the small stuff, the art and craft fairs, the endless posting on Instagram, applying for grants, and chasing commissions that hardly ever eventuate. I want money, Ned. I want to be able to buy stuff. To stop living off you. Contribute.”
“Steady on.” My words have an uncomfortable warble to them. I try for enthusiasm, I really do. “Go on, then. Tell me how this is all about to change.”
“I was in Mind, minding my own business,” he says with a tiny simper, “when I was introduced to this bloke. We talked about art, and I showed him some of my stuff online. And it turns out, he’s this hotshot interior designer. Not only that, but he’s recently been commissioned by one of the big hotel chains to restyle their flagship hotel—in New York! Lobby, restaurants, the rooms, even the owner’s residence apartments. And he wants me to supply them with art!” he exclaims with more animation than I’ve ever seen in him.
“That’s amazing, Tod. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’ll be in the US for a while, but I won’t be away forever. I’ll get to fly back and stuff.”
“Of course you will. And I’ll still be here.”
“Will you? Will you wait for me, I mean?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, Ned. I can’t tell you what this means.” His eyes glisten suspiciously, but I don’t have time to ponder this as he yanks me bodily against him. “I love you. Oh God, I love you.”
“I—what?”
“I’ve wanted to say that forever, but I couldn’t. Oh, Ned, I can’t wait for your divorce to come through.” He pushes me back to stare in my stupefied face. “Not that we have to wait for that to be together. But when it does come through, I’m going to ask you to marry me.” He pulls me to his chest again.
“What the hell?” I push at him, but he doesn’t seem to be listening as he waxes lyrical about second chances and the marvel that is love. “Tod!” When the tiniest bit of space opens between us, I manage to jab a sharp right to his shoulder.
“Ow! You hit me.”
“Because you aren’t listening to me.”
“I was busy!” His tone turns indignant. “Professing my love!”
“Since when?”
“What?”
“Since when have you loved me?”
“Since always, Ned.”
“All that time we’ve been working together, living together, you never once said. And when we used to go out, you’d get off with other girls.”
“But you never minded. It’s not like we were together-together.”
“Yes, because you weren’t in love with me.” I thought I was in love with him, but I know now I wasn’t.
“I didn’t realize I loved you more than just a friend until you left.”
“You don’t know what you’ve missed until it’s gone?”
“Is that a song?” The irony doesn’t hit, though he sits back a little.
“A song? I think it’s more like a cop-out.”
“What?”
“You don’t love me, Tod.”
“I do! So I was a bit slow on the uptake. I think I just didn’t allow myself to hope. Not when you’re so pulled together.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I live with you. Work with you. Eat your food. Borrow money from you—I didn’t think I had a chance.”
I shake my head. “I bet none of that ever even occurred to you until I left.”
“Ned, how can I not love you? You married him for me—to save me!”
“So it’s charity you love?”
“No!”
“Good, because the thing is, if you loved me, you would never have put me in that position in the first place.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he complains.
“When was the last time you slept with someone, Tod? Truthfully.”
Tod’s brows pinch. “You were sleeping with him.”
“My husband, you mean? Just answer the bloody question.”
“Just after you moved back in. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does,” I answer softly. “When you love someone, it makes you feel giddy just to be around them. You’re happy when they are, and your heart hurts when theirs does. And when you think of them in another’s arms, it makes you want to rip off that person’s arms and beat them to death with the soggy ends. That’s love, Tod.”