Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Tears well up in my eyes.
“And I thought that if I could catch you outside, I could give you the option of seeing her or not,” he says. “You can go. You don’t have to do this. I’m on your side always and forever.” He kisses me softly. “But I don’t want you to leave. She knows that. She knows that I’m doing this because …”
His cheeks flush. Ripley blushing? That’s a first.
“Because what?” I ask him.
“Because I love you.”
My breath hitches as the tears that I fought to contain spill down my face. “Are you serious?”
“I’m totally serious. I’ve loved you for a long time, I think.” He smirks. “Not when you were arguing with me about the existence of pickles. Or about how many steps are in Jeremiah’s house.”
I laugh, elated at hearing those three words from him.
“I didn’t tell your mom that I love you,” he says. “I wanted to tell you first, although I think she got the picture.”
His hands find mine and he strokes my palms with his thumbs.
This is the feeling I never knew if I’d ever experience. I didn’t know if this kind of thing was out there for me. But it was—it is—and it was right in front of me the entire time.
“I love you,” I say, smiling from ear to ear.
His brow pinches together as if he didn’t hear me clearly.
“I love you,” I whisper again.
“You do?” He laughs, almost as if he’s in disbelief. “You love me? Really?”
I laugh, too—also out of disbelief. How can this crazy man not see how lovable and amazing he is? “Yes, I love you. Of course, I love you, Ripley.”
“Thank God.” He pulls me in for another hug. “Now, what do we do about your mom?”
I take a deep breath and step away from Ripley, but my fingers instinctively grasp for his.
“We should video this for the show,” I joke. “It has the potential to get super high ratings.”
“Not that high. I’ll remove her before it gets that froggy.”
I wish we were going inside alone. The only place I want to be is in his arms somewhere … maybe with food. And a nap. Heaven knows that I need both. But I need to take care of this situation with my mom because our patterns of behavior are unhealthy. And then the enormity of what Ripley just said hits me.
“When you think of coming here, I want you to eventually feel happy. Like you’re coming home. I’m on your side always and forever. Because I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time, I think.”
Coming home. To Ripley. To the man I love. To the life I once dreamed of and now dream of again.
One that I never thought was possible.
I want this so much—more than anything.
It’s time to move forward … by letting go of the past.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, leading him inside.
He rushes to open the door for me. Always the gentleman.
“Waffles!” I say, laughing as he leaps in circles like a ballerina. “Hey, buddy.”
He barks before jumping so high he nearly makes it into my arms.
“Don’t jump on people,” Ripley says, shaking his head. “We’re working on that.”
I bend down and pick him up, and he licks my palms. Then he scurries up my chest and puts his little nose in the crook of my neck and sighs.
Yeah, buddy. I’m happy to be back, too.
Ripley leads me into the kitchen with his hand nestled in the small of my back. I don’t feel like a stranger here anymore, nor do I feel like a visitor. I belong here. I feel it in my bones. Home.
We round the corner, and I spot my mom standing at the windows overlooking the valley. Her arms are pulled over her stomach, and when she turns to me, I see the sadness painted on her face. It kills me.
But I have to stay strong.
“Do you want me to stay here or go into the other room?” Ripley whispers in my ear.
I grab his hand and hold it, signaling for him to stay. He doesn’t move a muscle.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom says, her tone uneven.
“Hi, Mom.”
She drops her arms and sighs. “I hope you’re not upset that I’m here. I’m second-guessing everything now and I don’t know if it’s right to be here or not.”
“It’s fine. But why are you here?”
She glances over my shoulder to Ripley, as if she gets strength from him, too.
“Georgia … I’m sorry,” she says simply. “I’d like to list all the things I’m sorry for, but I’m pretty sure I’d wear out my welcome before I got through them all.”
“Probably,” Ripley mutters just loud enough for me to hear.
“Honey, I’m going to start seeing a therapist next week,” she says.
My eyes widen.
“There are a lot of things I need to unpack, as they call it.” She grips the chair in front of her. “And I need to do it before it ruins a lot of lives.”