Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He makes a face at me like he was thinking quick and had to say something.
“Oh,” Mom says, either believing it or choosing to let it go. “Anyway, back to Ashley. What’s going on, Maddox?”
Ugh. “We’re … slowing our roll.”
Mom’s gaze flips to mine.
“I think we’ve probably slowed enough,” I say with a sigh. “But now I don’t know what to do. Nothing is fixed. I want her back, but I don’t have the solutions to the reasons we slowed in the first place. Follow me?”
“Sort of,” Jess says.
“We’re on a break,” I tell him simply.
“Oh, Friends,” Mom says.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Irritated, I rock back in my chair. “Did I miss something?”
“It’s fine,” Jess says, grinning. “Let’s just pivot back to Ashley.”
“Well done,” Mom says, laughing.
Jess bows from his chest.
“You guys are so weird,” I say.
Mom pours the stock into the kettle. “Sometimes in life you don’t get all the answers, Maddox. Sometimes you live with questions your whole life.”
“Well, my question was more like—did we dive into this too fast?”
“Probably,” Jess says immediately.
“I’m sure you both had heightened emotions after the bar brawl.” Mom looks at me sternly. That conversation didn’t go over well. “Maybe it just feels too fast.”
Jess leans against the table. “Let’s think without emotions, okay?” he suggests as if he’s talking to a teenager. “The pace isn’t going to create additional problems. The problems are the problems. They’ll all come out eventually. If you move faster, you’ll just find them sooner. On the other hand, you can fix them sooner too. It’s science, really.”
Mom smiles at my brother.
“I read this the other day too,” Jess says. “If you have a why, you’ll discover the how. Something like that.”
“Jess, I love that,” Mom gushes. “Think about that, Maddox.”
I roll my eyes and get up. Jess is Dad’s favorite. He can’t be Mom’s too. Damn. “How long until the soup is ready?”
“Give me an hour.”
“I’ll be back.” I head for the door.
“We’ll text you if we come up with anything else you can use,” Jess hollers.
“Don’t.”
The door slams behind me. I imagine Mom is in the kitchen telling Jess that she should make me come back and close it softly, but I keep walking.
The air is thick, hot, and so humid that it makes your clothes stick to your body.
Today’s knot in my stomach is different than yesterday’s. It changes every day. Just as I’m starting to live with it, it mixes it up. Keeps me uncomfortable.
There’s a hole in my life today. A large, gaping void that I can’t escape. It makes me feel untethered as if I’m drifting through my day with no anchor.
No why.
My pace slows.
Tati was right. The certainty of not having Ash is killing me slowly. Having to call Sara every night to check on her is ridiculous—almost as ridiculous as not having her in my bed. And although I’d never admit it, Jess is right too.
It kills me to think that.
Maybe this is just life, and we sort it out and go on. Move forward.
Aren’t I having to sort shit anyway? Just a different kind of shit?
You stupid fool.
I rip my phone out of my pocket and find Paige’s name. She answers immediately.
“Hey,” she says. “You called.”
“I need your help …”
THIRTY-THREE
Ashley
“I don’t want to, Sara.” I pull the blanket over my head. “Let’s go tomorrow.”
She jerks the blankets down. “No.”
“Sara …”
She takes my hand, ignoring my puppy-dog eyes, and tugs. “Up.”
I allow her to pull me to a sitting position, but I don’t get off the bed.
“You were supposed to be up and ready,” she says, digging through my suitcase. “We’re going to be late.”
“Can’t be late if you don’t go.”
She glares at me over her shoulder. “Go brush your teeth and comb your hair.”
“I don’t want to go to La Pachanga. I don’t want to meet your friends from work. I don’t need new friends.” I smirk. “I don’t even like the two I have all the time.”
She tosses a sundress at me. “Right now, I really dislike you. And unless you want me to sit you down and comb your hair, you’ll go do it yourself.”
“Fine.”
I march into the bathroom, cursing Sara’s name the whole time, and make quick work of changing into the dress and brushing my hair and teeth. I add a little mascara to make myself a tiny bit more presentable since I’m apparently going out in public.
I don’t want to go. I have no appetite. No energy. No hope for the future—which Sara says is dramatic. When she’s calling something dramatic, it must be.
“Why do I have to go?” I ask, tossing my dirty clothes into my luggage.
“You just mixed those with the clean ones.”
“So?”
She shivers. “You must go because they’re bringing their friends and I don’t have any. Rebecca is at work, so you’re the last option.”