Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I tell him, cupping my hand over my eyes to block the angry sun. It’s hard to believe I’ll be living here full-time two months from now. Despite having over two decades to prepare, it still doesn’t feel real. “Oh, I was going to see if we could visit your parents sometime? I haven’t seen them in months.”
It feels rude being in town and not seeing my future in-laws, even if they’re the ones who have been busy. Even if they’re not free this week, I at least want to make an effort.
Slade rakes his hand along his jaw, engrossed in the ocean view as he appears lost in thought.
“I’ll see what they’re up to and let you know.” His voice is monotone, disinterested. Maybe he had a falling out with them? Though I can’t imagine that given that they’re forcing his hand in this marriage and he’s doing exactly what they want. I make a mental note to ask Oliver when I see him next. I’m not usually one for gossip, but if he could fill in any of these missing puzzle pieces, I’d appreciate it.
As soon as Slade leaves to do his thing, I decide I shouldn’t have to wait for him to orchestrate anything when we’re all practically family already. Shooting off a text to Delia, I let her know I’m in town and I’d love to see her if she’s free.
Phone in hand, I wait for her reply. Any time I’ve ever messaged her, she responds within seconds, and whenever I’ve been around her, I’ve noticed her phone is basically glued to her hand. Only a few minutes pass and my message remains on delivered status, never changing to read.
A few hours later, I’m cruising around, going from stop to stop, basking in the vibrancy of this crazy little city. So far I’ve seen pretty much every sports car known to man in just about every color under the Florida sun—tangerine, iridescent purple, turquoise blue, lime green, gunmetal gray, and Barbie pink to name a few. Even the people dress in joyful hues that play off their suntans and blinding white smiles.
With a mix of locals, vacationers, and retirees, the fast-paced city is teeming with life at every turn. In Sapphire Shores, no one is ever in a hurry to get anywhere unless it’s an emergency.
It’s a little after one by the time I pull into the parking lot of a little Asian fusion bistro to grab a quick lunch. Before I head in, I check my phone. Still nothing from Delia.
I snap a picture of the awning and sign and send it to Slade, asking if this place is any good.
He replies with a thumbs up.
I ask him if he wants to join me?
He says he can’t—he’s busy.
It was worth a try.
I’m seated at a small table for two a few minutes later, when I text him again, asking if he wants me to grab anything while I’m out and about. Chuckling to myself, I realize it’s such a “wife” thing to do and I don’t know that we’ll ever have that dynamic.
A few minutes later, Slade finally gets back to me, and rather than giving me a simple yes or no, he tells me if there’s ever anything I need to let Fiona know and she’ll handle it.
Exhaling, I sip my ice water and do a bit of people watching.
Beside me, a couple my age are sharing dim sum. Between bites of dumplings and steamed buns, they’re nothing but smiles and sweet conversation. There’s a tenderness between them as they take their time enjoying their meals and each other’s company. When they’re finished, they hold hands across the table and talk about what they should do after this.
What I wouldn’t give for even an ounce of that from Slade …
Growing up, I was always indifferent about him. I didn’t care that he hated me or that he never made an effort. I mirrored his energy and figured he’d eventually come around the closer we got to the Big Day.
Wishful thinking is the plight of an eternal optimist.
I never took his distant personality personally before. But now? Now I’m not sure.
I used to tell myself that things would change some day when I least expected it, that there might even be love on the other side of all his resentment. But who am I kidding? Heartless men, by their very nature, are incapable of love.
.
Slade—
Haven’t heard from you in a while. Just checking to make sure you’re still alive and that I’m not a pre-widow.
Campbell (age 22)
Campbell—
If I died, you’d know because my parents would nationally televise my funeral on every network they own.
Sorry to disappoint you.
Slade (age 23)
20
Slade
“Maybe you should slow down on those.” I move for Oliver’s tumbler and the near-empty bottle of Macallan and slide them out of his reach.