Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
When we turn, we notice they’re taking more photos of Dawson. “Wow, the feature wall is stunning!” she exclaims as she sees the intricate design I had a famous street artist lay out. “Also, you never told me why you don’t like getting your photo taken. Even on your social apps, you don’t post any photos.”
I take another sip of coffee, avoiding answering that question. I feel guilty at times that they’ve all been so open with me while I’ve been holding back. Rya and Honey were even so bold as to let me in on the secrets of their world.
I sigh. I don’t want to lie to her. But what if I say something and it somehow brings all the demons back?
She turns then and looks at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just…” I’m hesitant to tell her why I don’t like photos. Though I have people around me, Maria included, who I have really opened up to since everything went down? In a small way, it’s starting to feel lonely. I’ve been having a lot of those thoughts lately. I don’t entirely understand why, but I say, “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”
“Of course. Is everything okay?” she asks again as she joins me at the minibar with leather stools. They haven’t yet been positioned correctly, but there will be a small space for cocktails for clients who are shopping for special occasions.
“Everything’s fine. I just thought maybe I could tell you why I don’t like having my photo taken. I haven’t really told anyone before. I don’t even know if I should now.” It feels strange. Maybe it’s because I’ve been fucked within an inch of my life, or lack of sleep, or I feel guilty for letting Will open up his wounds in front of me without reciprocating.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge,” Honey says, placing a hand over mine.
I sigh, already exhausted. “The quick answer is I ran away from someone a few years ago. It was before I started up my business. We weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but close to that.
“He was involved in a bad crowd in LA, and… I don’t know. I was stupid. Attracted to danger. But when he got too deep into the drugs and the gangs, I knew it was time to split. The problem was, he spent all my savings, so I stole something of value from him so I could get myself out of that situation. I haven’t seen him since, and I don’t want to. But I don’t want to risk him discovering everything I’ve built.”
Honey doesn’t say anything while I tell her my story; she just listens, and it makes it even more unnerving. More real. She’s the first person I’ve said those words to out loud.
“Do you think he’ll find you now? Because if you need help, Alina, you know you kind of have a kick-ass group of friends here in New York.” We nervously laugh at that, and it feels like the weight evaporates from me. “Have you spoken to Will about this? You know he could probably find the guy just to put your mind at rest.”
“No. I definitely won’t be telling Will about this. We’re having a fun fling. That’s all. I don’t want to be in debt to him in any way.”
Honey ponders that. “Does he know it’s just a fling?”
“We both do,” I say adamantly, and I know it’s not my place to tell her about his wife. That’s his story, but it weighs heavily over me, and I don’t entirely understand why yet. “That kind of brought down the mood.” I try to laugh it off, embarrassed that I told her that. Why did I tell her that?
“No, it didn’t. Thank you for telling me, and for trusting me. And you tell me if you’re ever in trouble. We’re friends now. I hope you realize that. I don’t know if you know this about yourself, Alina, but you have a very magnetic presence about you. I’m sure you make friends wherever you go. And I may look super sweet, but I actually know how to kick ass, so if you need me, let me know.”
“My wife will not be kicking anyone’s ass,” Dawson interrupts as he opens the door. A cold shudder runs down my spine at the thought of him hearing any of that. But luckily, he only just stepped in. “That’s why you married me. And besides, wasn’t it you who said just this morning that your stomach is going to be the size of a watermelon?”
“As if you don’t expect your baby to be picking fights even inside the womb.” She laughs, and I chuckle. I can see it. And then there’s Crue and Rya’s son. From what I’ve heard, he’s a handful.