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)
“Daisy won’t be your responsibility. Obviously, I’d like you to get to know her, given we’ll be living under the same roof.”
“Until I walk out of her life in twelve months?”
I make a gesture of futility. I know what’s coming next.
“See, this is what I have a problem with,” she says, poking her finger in the air like a bit-part gangster with a gun. “This is what you haven’t thought through. You can’t just waltz in and out of a child’s life, not without causing them some form of damage.”
“You don’t have to disappear. I’m sure we’ll be firm friends by then.”
“Have you ever had a relationship?” she asks, amused.
“Have you?”
Her amusement fades like a light turned down. I’m not sure what to make of this reaction. The strength of it, at least.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m friends with all my exes.”
Her head rears back a little as though this doesn’t compute. “Oh God.” Her shoulders sag. “You’re the golden handshake type.”
“Sorry?”
“You pay your girlfriends off to make sure they toddle off without any fuss,” she says, miming a walk with her fingers.
“That’s not it.” My tone is gruff because she’s hit a raw nerve. I am that guy. I’d just never stopped to examine it. “You let me worry about after,” I grate out. I hadn’t thought about the future on account of being too fucking busy trying to control the present.
“Fine, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Because that plan always works.”
“What?”
“To fail to prepare is to prepare to fail.”
“Thank you for that very useful aphorism.” And your vote of confidence.
“You’re welcome.” She stretches out her legs, crossing them at the ankle. “Here’s another for you. Not my circus, not my monkeys.”
“That also works for me.”
“I was once given a cactus for a housewarming gift. You know, a cactus? A thing that survives in the desert?”
“I know what a cactus is.”
“Let me tell you, it did not survive in my living room. I’ll help you. I’ll lie to the court. But I can’t parent a child, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“No one is asking you to.”
She angles her gaze my way, her expression hard. “What I mean is, I can’t do any of this if it’s not the right thing for her. No matter how much money is involved.” She doesn’t add you idiot, but her tone fills in the blanks.
I could point out that, for a marriage just two days old, she’s already told so many lies. That she’s in too deep already. But I don’t point.
Instead, I feel grateful. I guess I’d expected a much different conversation.
“So what’s the plan?” Lavender unclips her seat belt, then slumps back in the seat.
“Pack a bag.” I glance out of the window and up at the red brick building. There’s a light on the top floor. Fuck. It seems Tod has even less smarts than I’d credited him with. Or maybe he just has fewer options. “Just the things you need. I’ll get a team in to bring the rest.”
“What? No. I’ll just get stuff as and when.”
“As and when what?”
“As and when I need them. It’s not like I won’t be setting foot in the place for a year. I’ll have to come back occasionally.”
“Why do you need to come back?” My question sounds a little dark.
“Water my plants. Take utility meter readings and stuff.”
“You don’t have plants.”
“I have fake ones.” She shrugs. “They need dusting. This is my place. You’re not going to make me stay away from it. Our deal was I’d live with you, not be your shadow.”
“Live. Fuck. Sleep in my bed.”
“One of those things is not like the others,” she huffs. “The rest only accounts for part of my days. Remember, it’s my body you want. Not my attention.”
It was the heart I’d denied. I refrain from correcting her now.
“Be back in a flash,” she chirrups, finding the door handle with ease this time.
“Well, I’m coming, too.”
“Fine,” she mutters, climbing from the car. At the garden gate, she adds, “I feel like we’ve had this discussion before about me not climbing out of windows.”
“I didn’t think you’d do it then. I know you won’t now.”
“So toddle off back to the car.” She makes a lazy shooing motion with her hand. So I grab it.
“The least I can do is carry your bag.”
“Whatever.” She shoots me a fake-looking smile. Or it might’ve been a grimace, given she knows exactly why I’m traipsing up the stairs after her.
“You’re here! Oh, thank God!” No sooner than the door is open, Lavender is engulfed by arms and a heavy waft of Paco Rabanne. “I called you a million times. Why haven’t you answered?”
“’Cause I didn’t want to.”
She begins to unfold herself from his embrace when I reach over her shoulder and yank at his shirt collar.