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 I open the door, Steven is standing there with a smile. I forget how shiny his positive demeanor is. It’s refreshing, to say the least, especially during a drizzly week.
He looks good, dressed in a cream suit and a dark overcoat, as the weather is starting to get colder now. His eyes light up, and he immediately leans in to kiss me, and I give him my cheek.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says, his hand still holding my arm.
“And you. I just have to get my bag and we’re good to go.” I turn and grab my bag from the small table by the door, and when I step into the hallway, I find him waiting for me patiently.
“Coffee first?” he asks.
“Sounds good.” I live relatively close to a lot of shops and cafés, so we decide to walk.
“How have you been? I know we message, but it’s good to see you again. When I saw you last month, it was a bit awkward. I felt like we couldn’t really talk. Are you still seeing Will?” He hasn’t actually asked me about Will in the last month that we’ve been messaging, and I’m glad he didn’t because it would have been awkward. I needed time to work out my feelings for Will, process the fire, and transition back to my life in London. Not to mention the other big thing I have to make a heavy decision about soon.
“Nope. Just a casual fling, like I told you. I haven’t spoken to Will since I left New York.”
“Okay, good. I didn’t want to get in between anything you two may have had going on.” I don’t like the implication that he thinks he’s getting involved with anything. I side-eye him. I mean, someone like Steven is a great example of an ideal partner. So why can’t I fall for someone like him instead of some Xbox-playing bounty hunter?
“Nothing going on,” I reiterate, trying to restrain the bitterness in my voice. Why do I always go for the guy who isn’t right for me? Steven and I have plenty in common, and he’s intelligent and physically attractive. Shouldn’t I be after someone like him? Wouldn’t my mother approve if I brought someone like Steven home?
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, trying to hide a hopeful smile. A small part of me likes it. After everything that happened, it’s nice to be wanted, even though I don’t look at Steven in that way. I’m wondering if I ever can.
We walk into a café and each order a coffee. He pays as I take a seat at a table and wait. A few minutes later, he hands me mine and sits opposite me. “It’s good to see you, Alina. Really good.”
“Thanks.” I smile. The way he said it makes me feel like he’s complimenting something else.
“I don’t get it. I don’t understand how you’re still not married. You were the girl everyone wanted back in school.”
I try not to snort my coffee out my nose. “That’s news to me.”
He smiles when he looks at his coffee. “Surely, you knew. Then again, you shot down most of the boys as quickly as they showed an interest in you.”
“I didn’t shoot you down,” I point out, though I can’t entirely remember how we started dating in the first place. He wasn’t my first boyfriend or my last, and I was young and naive to the notion of love and dating. Years later, I’m just jaded from it now.
“Have you been close to marriage?” he asks curiously. The question catches me off guard. Okay, so we’re going down this rabbit hole. And it’s probably my least favorite conversation to partake in, considering I’m in the midst of re-evaluating everything in my life.
I wrap my hands around the coffee cup.
“No, no marriage. Just work and discovering who I am.” I pause. “What about you? Ever get close to getting married?” Because how do I explain the enigma of my past? I almost think it’s easier that Will studied up on me and knew most things in finer detail, so I didn’t have to explain it all. It felt like a cheat code, one I was surprisingly okay with.
I try to return to the conversation with Steven instead of my mind wandering to the one man I vowed I’d stop thinking about.
“I was engaged once. But she ended up leaving me for a friend. Said I was too married to my work,” he says with a hint of bittersweetness. “I think it was for the best, though, since apparently, she was having an affair with my friend for like a year, and I had no idea.”
“Ouch. Not a friend anymore, I’m assuming?” I feel for the guy. That’s rough.
“No, not a friend anymore. You can imagine their shock when I didn’t accept their wedding invitation.” He laughs when he sees my expression.