Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I am not homeless. Just between housing at the moment.” She squints at me. “You wanna talk about why you’re here and not at Conlan’s place?”
“No,” I say, and really, really mean it.
“Is it because of me?”
“No.” But I hesitate. She’s still giving me that knowing look. “Sort of. There are some trust issues at the moment.”
“He kept stuff from you and now you don’t know what to think. That’s pretty much it?”
“Well—” I manage not to curse. How can this girl be so freaking observant? It’s annoying. “Can we talk about something else?”
“What could possibly be more interesting than your failed marriage?”
“It’s not a failed marriage. We were never really married. It was for show, remember? To cover for your bad decisions.”
“His bad decisions,” she corrects. “But even I could see you two were into each other.”
“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. He lied to me. He kept something important from me, and in the end, I guess I just realized it would never stop. He’d always be like that, no matter what, no matter how much he cares about me, and I can’t let myself get hurt. I’ve lost too much and been through it enough to know that I can’t handle him. So I walked away.”
Allison studies me. She doesn’t look convinced, but I don’t care what she thinks. She’s just a kid and I don’t know why I’m letting her get into my business to begin with.
“You want my advice?” she asks.
“No. Not at all.”
“Give him a shot. Conlan’s never been in an actual relationship before. He doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing. Give him some time to figure it out.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I feel like it is though? You adults always act like you’ve got everything under control, but really, you’re just flailing around like everyone else. That guy worships you, Isabel. Yeah, he’s not perfect, he’s a selfish prick, to be totally honest, but he’s your selfish prick. Go for it. Make a mistake. Get hurt if it comes to that. Live a little.”
I cross my arms. It’s easy for her to say when it’s not her heart at stake. “We should talk about something else now.”
“Fine,” she says, stretching. “How about you tell me a story and I take a nap? Can you talk in a really soothing voice?”
“No thanks.” I get up. “Go ahead and sleep. I have to apply for jobs.”
“Great, awesome, sounds good. By the way, I don’t have any money, so groceries are on you. Hope that’s not a problem.” She burrows into the couch, puts a pillow under her face, and drags a blanket over her head.
“Big shock there,” I mutter, annoyed at my rotten luck.
This is a nightmare. I have a broke, runaway teenager sleeping on my couch, and she’s weirdly insightful about relationships.
Except I don’t agree that Conlan worships me.
No, I think he is in love with the idea of loving me—he’s in love with his own selfish image of what it means to be together.
And it would always be that way. I’d always be second to him, no matter what.
Maybe Allison’s right, and I should give him another chance.
But right now, I’m trying to figure out my life, and I’ll never do that if I start talking to Conlan again.
Chapter 36
Conlan
There’s this bullshit saying.
If you love something, let it go.
That has to be the dumbest thing in the world.
Fuck letting it go.
If you love something and you let it go, in theory, it’ll come back if things were meant to be. It’s trying to say, don’t smother people. Give them space.
But that’s trash.
If you love something, you should capture it, wrap it in chains, and keep it in your fucking basement.
Hold it so tight its neck breaks and it can’t ever crawl away.
Which is what I wish I had done with Isabel.
Minus actually breaking her neck.
Instead, she’s at her house, not sleeping in my bed, not acting like my wife. Ignoring my calls. Not answering her texts. Days pass like this, and it’s infuriating. I thought she would have some time to herself, realize how much she missed me, and end up on my doorstep. We’d reconcile, she’d shed a few tears, we’d have some great sex, end of story.
That hasn’t happened yet, and it’s driving me insane.
Doesn’t help that the Lincoln’s busy with two conferences going on at the same time, and to make it all hell on earth, my brother Erick is in town to visit.
A very conveniently timed trip.
I love the guy. Don’t get me wrong. Erick is steadfast and quiet, one of the most insightful humans in the entire universe, but I’m not in the mood to play host.
Much less to a guy that can see through me at a glance.
“What did you do?” he asks as we sit at the Lincoln’s bar sipping from the top-shelf whiskey nobody ever buys. Around us, women in pantsuits and guys in Rolexes walk around flexing at each other and yapping in business-speak.