Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“Selma—”
“It’s only been a short time, and I feel myself breaking at the thought of not being with you, but I won’t live a life like I did before. I gave everything to my job, and all I had to show for it was a life alone and miserable. I’ve seen how life is on the other side of that, and I’m not ready to give it up.”
“Stop, let me speak—”
“Luca, if I let you talk then I know you’ll convince me it’s okay and we’ll make it work. I don’t want to be convinced. I know what I feel when you’re with me, and I know what I feel when you’re gone. I can’t do this.”
She shakes her head, and the tears fall.
“That’s it.” I reach out and grab her by the arms and before she can stop me, I throw her over my shoulder.
“Luca! Put me down!”
“You said you didn’t want me to talk, so I’m going to show you instead.”
“Luca Cross, you are crazy? Put me down!”
I feel her hit my back, but all I do is shake my head as I get on the elevator and push the button for the lobby.
“I’m not dressed! You can’t take me downstairs in pajamas,” she complains as she smacks my ass.
“You should have thought of that sooner.”
I’m still in my clothes from yesterday, and I slipped on my shoes before I walked out. I’m just happy she’s wearing one of my shirts and a pair of shorts, instead of sleeping naked like we usually do.
“Good morning,” the doorman says as he holds out my keys.
“Thanks, Eugene.” I nod as I go over to my SUV and open the passenger door. I plant Selma in the seat and give her a hard look. “You’re going to sit your pretty ass right here, and you’re not going to talk until I tell you I’m finished. Understood?”
Her eyes are wide, and it’s probably because she’s surprised. I’m never one to raise my voice or show anger. I’m always the easygoing brother and the fun guy to hang out with. But right now, my woman is in need of a check, and she’s going to get it. I wait half a second before she nods and then I shut the door and go to the driver’s side.
It’s a quiet drive, but it doesn't take long, and when we reach our destination, I can practically feel words ready to rush out of her mouth. I roll down my window and wave to the guy at the gate. He nods his head and hits a button so that the gates slide to the side. When I pull through, there’s parking straight ahead and a gated courtyard all around us.
I turn off the car and look at Selma, who is physically pressing her lips together so she doesn’t start asking questions. It’s adorable, and I want to pull her to me and kiss the shit out of her. But then I think about all those fears she has bubbling up, and I know we need to settle a few things first.
When I get out of the car and go to her side, I hold my arms out to her. This time she comes willingly, and I turn around to give her a piggyback ride.
“Six years ago I visited an elderly lady that lived here. She was an only child and never married or had children.” I walk through the courtyard that leads to a garden around the edge of the property. “She was one of the first female architects in the city and designed this home to remind her of the country where she grew up, right in the middle of the city.”
“It’s so beautiful,” Selma says softly, and I squeeze her thighs.
“No talking.” She grunts, and I have to fight a smile. “At the time when I spoke to her, her health was failing, and she was preparing her assets. At first she told me that she wanted to sell the house and the land so that she could donate the money to charity. I tried to explain to her that the house is historic and should be preserved.”
As we walk the edge of the garden, the hydrangeas are overrun and in bloom. They’re like blue and pink clouds around us, and the sun is shining overhead.
“For years I’d come here and talk with her, and we’d discuss the house, but other things too. We talked about art, and the city, and the small towns we came from. Her name was Lily, and we became good friends. I might have been her only friend in the end, because a few months ago she passed and left this all to me.”
“Luca,” Selma says softly, and I stop in the middle of the hydrangeas to place her on a patch of grass.