Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Like other women in her position, she’d become good at making excuses about not seeing her family, and perfecting ways to fake being happy when the reality was, she’d been miserable and controlled by a man who had gradually destroyed her resistance, her morale, and her spirit. And while her family had suspected that her marriage was not what she attempted to portray, they hadn’t been prepared for the broken woman who’d walked into their house two years ago, a shell of her former self.
She was grateful for their support, the way they’d rallied around her and built her back up when she thought she’d never feel whole again. But now, she needed to take the next step in her life, without being swaddled like a newborn baby.
“I feel good, Spencer,” she said, setting her boxing gloves and bottle of water on the table. “Really good. Stronger and better than I have in years. But I need my space and independence back so I can start planning my future. I’ve got a job that I love and the next step is finding a place of my own.” She refrained from pointing out that she was thirty years old and didn’t need his permission, because she knew his concern came from a place of love.
He was still wearing that unconvinced frown, stubborn as ever. “You’re the one who encouraged me to move to New York in the first place,” she reminded him.
“So you didn’t have to deal with, or run into, that asshole you were married to in Boston,” he grumbled.
“It’s been five months since he signed the divorce papers,” she said. Although he’d dragged his feet for over a year and a half, despite her wanting nothing from him except to cut all ties. “He’s finally moving on, and I need to do the same.”
The tense set of Spencer’s shoulders relaxed a bit at her words. “Fine,” he huffed. “We’ll look at places together. I want final approval on your apartment building. There needs to be top notch security and a guard at the front desk.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling at him. “If that makes you feel better.”
He nodded his head decisively. “It will.”
Giving him that peace of mind was the least she could do.
* * *
Skye sat out on the tiny balcony of her new apartment, drinking her morning cup of coffee and enjoying the peaceful Saturday solitude. Well, the place wasn’t so recent now that she’d been there for the past six months. But it still felt exciting and fresh to her, since it was the first place where she’d lived alone since leaving her ex-husband. She’d gone from staying with her parents, to being roommates with her brother, and she couldn’t deny that the freedom of truly being on her own was liberating.
The Brooklyn apartment was a small two bedroom, but it had all the amenities she needed, and most importantly, it had received Spencer’s seal of approval. It was in a nice neighborhood, and the security in the lobby was vigilant about letting in strangers and visitors. The location was top notch, with nearby markets and restaurants, and Prospect Park was within walking distance.
It was quiet here, unlike the hustle and bustle of New York City where she worked at the Meridian Hotel as an assistant event coordinator.
It was also the perfect place to raise a child.
The thought brought a smile to her lips as she took another drink of her coffee. Now that her marriage was officially over and far behind her, having a baby on her own had been on her mind. A lot. When she’d married Jack, it had been with the intention of starting a family, something she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl. She’d always imagined having an adoring husband, a house in the suburbs with the proverbial white picket fence, and at least three kids by the time she was thirty.
Jack had destroyed those hopes and dreams right along with her self-esteem, though a part of her was grateful that they hadn’t had any kids which would have tied her to her ex for the rest of the children’s lives. She shuddered at the thought.
She’d managed to rebuild her confidence, had a place of her own, and was finally in a good mental space to look toward the future. She might not trust her heart and emotions when it came to men—hell, she wasn’t even interested in casually dating—but these days, women didn’t need a man to have or raise a child. That’s what sperm banks were for.
It was Saturday, and while she needed to do laundry and go to the market to pick up a few things for the following week, she had nothing planned for the afternoon and evening. So, she texted Lauren—her co-worker, who’d also become a good friend—to see if she wanted to meet for drinks and appetizers at The Back Door, a bar they’d been to a few times for happy hour after work. It meant taking an Uber into the city because no way was she stepping foot on the subway after dark.