Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
The Atwoods treated me like one of their own. Mrs. Atwood always made sure I had enough to eat, her warm smile and gentle words a stark contrast to my mother’s cold indifference. Mr. Atwood would ruffle my hair and ask me about school, genuinely interested in my life. In their home, I found the family I wished I had.
So, when Callum made me promise I wouldn’t date his sister, I didn’t take it lightly. Callum saved me, offering me a lifeline when I was drowning in despair, and there’s no way in hell I’ll ever forget that. It doesn’t matter how I feel about Anya, because I can’t cross that line. My feelings for her are strong, but my loyalty to Callum is stronger. He’s my brother in every way that counts, and betraying his trust isn’t an option.
Every time I look at Anya, I remind myself of the promise I made. She’s beautiful, kind, and everything I could ever want, but I owe Callum too much to risk it. The bond we share, forged in the fires of my troubled past, is something I’ll never take for granted. Anya will always be a dream I can’t pursue, a reminder of the sacrifices I’m willing to make for the one person who saved me from my own personal hell.
It’s been almost a week since I denied Anya’s kiss, and I haven’t seen her once. Part of me is relieved because I still don’t know what to say, but another part of me, a bigger part, misses her sweeping into the kitchen with her big smile, her energy lighting up the room. The kitchen feels emptier without her, the air heavy with the unspoken tension between us.
There’s a party this weekend, and we haven’t discussed the menu. I know it’s because she’s avoiding me, and I hate that it’s now affecting our work. Our usual effortless collaboration has turned into an awkward dance of avoidance, each of us tiptoeing around the other.
“Griff, you have plans after work?” Callum asks, walking into the kitchen, breaking my train of thought.
I wipe my hands on the white towel and turn my back on the potatoes I was cutting. I lean against the counter and lift an eyebrow. “No, why?”
“My mom just called and invited us for dinner,” he says, shrugging as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“On a Wednesday?” I reply, my surprise evident in my voice.
He grabs a piece of bread off the counter and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully before responding. “Yeah.”
Atwood Sunday family dinners are a huge thing, a tradition steeped in warmth and togetherness, but Wednesday night dinners are something I’ve never been invited to. This unexpected invitation sends a jolt of anxiety through me. What could it mean? Is this just a casual dinner, or is there something more to it?
As I mull over the possibilities, I can't shake the feeling that this dinner might be more than just a meal. The tension between Anya and me is palpable, and I worry that her family has picked up on it. The thought of facing her tonight, in the intimacy of her family’s home, fills me with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
Callum finishes his bread and looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. “Sure,” I finally say, trying to sound casual, though my mind is racing.
“Great,” he replies with a grin. “We’ll head over right after work.”
“This is something you guys do often?”
He shakes his head, a seriousness settling in his eyes. “No, never. I’m worried she has bad news and wants you there to help me through it.”
Shit.
I nod, crossing my arms. “I’m there. What time?”
“She said around six, but I told her there’s no way we could slip out that early.”
“Some things are more important than work, Callum. I’ll get everything prepped, and my team will be able to handle it. Tell her we’ll be there.”
One thing I know for sure is that life is fragile. If Carol needs us, we need to be there. To hell with everything else. The Atwood’s have done so much for me; the least I can do is show up when they need me.
“You sure?” he asks, reaching for a piece of cheese from the platter on the counter.
“Yeah, buddy, I’m sure.” I chuckle as he pops the cheese into his mouth. “You want me to make you something to eat?”
He grins, shaking his head. “Nah, this cheese will do for now. But thanks.”
As I watch Callum, I’m reminded of the countless times he and his family have been my refuge. I can’t help but think about what this dinner might mean. Could Carol have sensed the tension between Anya and me? Is this her way of addressing it, or is it simply a routine family gathering that I’ve been fortunate enough to be included in? The uncertainty gnaws at me, but I push it aside. Carol needs us, and that’s what matters.