Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
I sit back and listen to Anna gush about their decision while Malik finishes up at the alarm panel. When he comes to the table, he bends over Anna and kisses the top of her head. My heart squeezes because while Van has touched me a million different ways, one of my favorites was just a gentle touch in passing.
Malik goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer. Holding it up, he says, “At least Van’s good for something.”
I don’t bother chastising him. He’s never going to not be mad at Van and I can only hope that when I repair my marriage, my brothers will forgive him.
When he plops down in the chair next to me, he asks, “What the hell are you doing about your job? Did they give you an extended vacation or something?”
I shake my head. “I’ll work remotely.”
“You can do that?” Anna asks.
“For a while. I’ll be working on mostly data analysis and report writing based on studies carried out by on-site teams.”
“And what’s the current project, Miss Smartest Fournier Sibling?” Malik queries.
I snicker because my brothers may not have gone to college but they are all as bright as I am. “We’re assessing the impact of acid rain in the New England forest ecosystems.”
Malik cocks a brow. “There’s acid rain in New England?”
I pat him on the arm. “Hate to tell you, big bro, but there’s acid rain around any areas that have sulfur- and nitrogen-emitting industries.”
“Like the type that will melt your skin?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “You watch too many sci-fi movies. No, acid rain is far too weak to burn skin, but it is hell on the ecosystem.”
“And that’s why you’re the brainiac in the family,” he says, raising his beer in silent toast. His smile slides, though. “But seriously… come stay with me and Anna. I’m totally fine if you want to try to work things out with Van, but I know this is hard. You should be around people who love you.”
“I am,” I reply simply. “Van hasn’t stopped loving me. In fact, he thinks that this is the right thing to do because he loves me.”
“Fucking moron,” Malik mutters.
Not going to disagree with him there. “I know what I’m doing. Just support me while I do this, okay?”
“Fine,” he says, holding up a hand in capitulation. “But promise you will spend time with us.”
“That is a promise I can absolutely make.”
“And when Lucas and Max come week after next, we’ll figure a way we can all get together.”
That would be awesome. I don’t know how their schedule will pan out if they’re doing an overnight or an out-and-back when they come to play the Titans, but at the very least, we’ll manage to hang for a bit. At least that gives me something to look forward to.
♦
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, working on my laptop, when I hear Van slip his key into the door. I stand up and walk that way because his key no longer works. He was gone when I woke up this morning, and it’s nearly nine p.m. He said he was going to be gone as much as possible to avoid me and I should feel guilty about it, but I don’t. I don’t intend to make this comfortable for him.
The knob jiggles and then he bangs on the door.
I open it and step back.
“Why the hell doesn’t my key work?” he fumes, but I can see by the look on his face, he knows.
I nod to the small table to the new spare sitting there. “There’s your key and the new alarm code is 5683. It spells LOVE, in case you forget.”
Van curses but I turn away and walk into the kitchen. I don’t look back at him but I can hear his keys jangling, so I know he’s switching out the old for the new.
“Did you eat dinner?” I ask pleasantly. “I made salad and baked chicken. It’s in the fridge.”
Van doesn’t look at me or answer my question. I log out of the Dartmouth portal after saving my work and shut my laptop.
Opening the fridge, he pulls out a beer, twists off the cap and throws it in the sink, done specifically to annoy me, I’m sure. He takes three long pulls from the brew and then rummages through a cabinet, pulling out a can of soup. I watch as he pulls the top off the can and eats it cold with a spoon.
Ignoring me.
Refusing to eat perfectly good food I prepared.
“I’m done with my work,” I say, an innocuous attempt at conversation. “My boss is going to let me project manage remotely until we can figure out how to fix things.”
Van doesn’t even flinch, concentrating on his icy chicken noodle while leaning against the counter. He stares blankly ahead.