Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
The tension knots in my neck became rock hard. The mere workday exhaustion from minutes ago felt like boulders on my shoulders. I had four months’ salary saved. I’d be okay until I found another place to settle. Perhaps now Dash would see the merit in our separation.
“Your ball cap’s on backward. I haven’t seen it like that since we were in Sea Springs,” Dash said fondly from the bedroom doorway.
How could he focus on something so ordinary while his life was crumbling down around him? Perhaps Dash was genuinely struggling with mental illness, just as his parents and all the counselors they had sent him to suggested.
“You’re correct in whatever you’re thinking, but it was a fond memory I hung onto. You wore a cap like that when I first met you at the party in the field. It frames your face really well.”
“Since I chopped off my hair, the ball cap is the only way to keep it off my face…” Wait. I let Dash distract me. I waved my hands in the air to show my frustration. “Stop. What you’re dealin’ with is ridiculous. How much more can your father do to you before you open your eyes?”
Dash’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ll acknowledge I wasn’t as prepared as I believed when I severed ties with my family, but I’m sorting it out. I apologize for the inconvenience this causes you. You work hard…”
“You’re worried about the inconvenience to me?” I asked incredulously. “When’s it gonna feel right to say goodbye to me? You don’t have a car.”
“Hush. We made the decision to stick together. Fuck the world for keeping us apart. Let me change, then come and help me open the back doors. They have a manual locking system that I’m certain you can reach easier than I can. We have plenty of cold cuts, cheeses, and chips. I think Amelia made a pasta salad this morning...”
The more Dash spoke, the better his mood became. He began the process of removing his snug shirt. Something I really enjoyed watching. A private strip tease only for me. Each shimmy and shake captured all my destructive thoughts and tossed them away.
“We’ll rough it until the electricity turns back on,” Dash continued. “Be cowboys from the wild west. Hang out by the pool, the lights out there are solar operated.” I followed him into the dark closet. A pair of swim trunks hit my chest before Dash wriggled out of his expensive khakis. The shadows added extra flair to his undressing.
I was such a pig, ogling Dash on such a difficult day. Even with no utilities, this house was still comfortable with lots of natural light. At least to me. And maybe to the guy now standing nude in front of me.
Several hours later
Dash was back. My quintessential doting guy. We shared a meal, swam, relaxed, and had an overall good time. He cracked his usual silly jokes and acted as if every word I said mattered, which it didn’t. I listened as he broke down his day.
As the evening turned to night, the electricity was still out. We laid contently in bed together. We left the glass wall panels that lined the back of the house open to allow the cooler night air to filter through the bedroom.
I held Dash with my eyes closed, and as if by magic, the electricity flipped on. Music played quietly in the background, as it always did, followed by a succession of beeps from every direction. The security monitor on the wall initiated its operating system, signaling its status as it went.
“I have money,” I murmured into Dash’s hair, not ready to let the closeness go. “We also have Mom’s check for the truck. They’d be a good downpayment on a nice ride for you.”
Dash trailed his fingertips across my chest, lulling me into a trance with every swipe. “Maybe it’s time to have a joint checking and savings account. We’ve defined ourselves as a committed couple to the world.”
“I’m fine with that. I want to be a partner, not a dependent,” I said. They were words I’d uttered many times since we’d gotten back together.
“Why didn’t I know about your application to own a FedEx route?”
I had kept it quiet, not allowing myself to dwell too much. No doubt the fear of failure held my tongue. My application had a very solid chance of being denied, and what if I couldn’t handle the load of being a small business owner? I was young, almost twenty-one. Money and loans were concerns I didn’t know about. My mom had agreed to back the loan and be a co-owner if my age and lack of business experience were a problem.
If I answered honestly, I risked Dash throwing a full-fledged tantrum over how I hadn’t asked him to be my money tree.