Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
It was a picture of Kaitlyn when she was around two, sitting on my lap. We were both laughing, her mouth wide open with surprise. I was looking directly at the camera, tickling her sides. So much happiness filled that cheap three-by-two plastic keychain that I hadn’t been able to get rid of it even when the corners started to chip.
Gwen reached out, catching it in her palm as she leaned forward to get a better view. A massive smile split her face. “Oh my God, that is such a cute picture.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, pulling it away and tucking it back into my pocket. “I appreciate the drive home.”
“No problem.”
I reached for the door handle, everything inside me screaming not to open the door. “I guess…I’ll see you in a few weeks?”
“Hopefully it will look like a real restaurant by then.”
“I’m sure it will. You’re doing a great job. It’s going to be amazing.”
Pride lit her eyes. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
An awkward silence fell between us, the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings hanging heavy in the air.
“Well, goodnight, True,” she said, and I could have made it up, because it was what I wanted to hear, but I swear there was a tinge of regret in her voice.
“Goodnight, Gwen,” I replied, opening the car door and stepping out.
I watched her drive away, the taillights disappearing into the night before I headed up the front steps.
The warm evening air gave way to my air conditioning when I stepped inside, but a sweat broke out across my brow when I closed the door behind me. My heart raced as I flipped the light on and then stood in the foyer scanning my house. It was the exact same as it always was, and my old couch called to me from across the room.
If I followed the routine, that would have been my first stop. I’d sit down. Take a deep breath, remind myself that I was home, safe, and all was right with my world again.
Only this time, everything felt so fucking empty. I slid down to the floor, my back pressed against the front door. As I stretched my legs out, I accidentally kicked the shoe rack, causing mine and Kaitlyn’s sneakers to tumble off into a messy pile. And if that wasn’t symbolic of the mess my life had become, I didn’t know what was.
I buried my face in my hands, feeling more lost than ever. My home was my sanctuary, yet everything suddenly felt wrong. For the first time in God knew how long, I didn’t want to be in that house.
I wanted to be with Gwen. Back at the restaurant, laughing—or hell, even arguing and dealing with that prick Taggart. And now, I had to wait two weeks to see her again?
Fourteen days?
Half a fucking month?
What the hell was I supposed to do for that long without her?
Oh, right, the same thing I’d been doing for almost two decades—Existing alone.
Always alone.
But what if I didn’t want to be alone anymore? The thought was equal parts terrifying and liberating.
I dug my phone out of my pocket before pulling up Daniel’s name in my contacts. He’d know what to do. I hadn’t pressed the call button before his words filtered through my mind, causing a wave of panic to crash over me.
“News flash, Truett. You created the schedule. You can change it too.”
Gwen
“So, how much do you think it’s gonna cost?” I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.
The older gentleman I’d found on Google under the search “People who hang blinds and actually show up in Belton, NJ” quirked a furry gray eyebrow. “Well, that depends. What kind of budget are we looking at?”
“Cheap,” I said flatly.
His tape measure snapped shut, and he looked at me with a curious smile. “How cheap are we talking?”
“Clearance that has been marked down at least a dozen times, because while they are super trendy and fit my vision perfectly, they are just taking up space in a warehouse and will soon be discarded and I can pick them up off the side of the road for free.”
He chuckled. “That’s a nice thought, but, baby doll, there’s no such thing as clearance when it comes to custom blinds.”
I let out a groan, and not only because he called me baby doll.
Just my luck. The restaurant’s windows were a patchwork of mismatched sizes, none of which were standard, so picking up blinds off the shelf at the home store and hanging them myself was out of the question.
“Look,” he said, lifting his clipboard and retrieving the pen from behind his ear. “If you want my advice, I’d spend a few extra dollars on something that will last. With these windows as thin as they are, you might be surprised how much blinds can cut down on your heating and air bill, especially if you plan to open for lunch.” He shuffled a few inches to the side, standing in direct sunlight. “The sun rises that way. If you stand right here for more than a second or two, it’s going to feel like dining on the sun. You planning to put tables here?”