Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
And then there were the ways in which we were sometimes too compatible. We were partners in our own two-person law firm. We worked out together at the same gym. We lived under one roof. So there were nights when we’d look at each other and without saying a word, know it was time to go out, time to catch up with friends, time to find someplace loud and full of energy to break up our routine.
“Scott?”
“Yes?”
“You said you don’t regret our life, don’t regret our decision to build our future together.”
“I don’t,” I said vehemently.
“I know. But—” He took a deep breath. “Do you regret losing him?”
Honesty was one thing, hurting a man I loved was another. “Adan, let me explain. I—”
“Do you regret not having a future with him?” he added.
“I—”
Thankfully he cut me off, because I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. “Because I do.”
“Shit.” I took in a deep breath and dragged my fingers through my hair. “I guess we do need to talk, huh?”
“Hey, don’t look so down about it.” Adan grinned at me. “We’ve managed to hold off what some might consider a basic conversation for five years. That’s pretty good, right?”
I shrugged. “I guess. Think after this one we can avoid it for another five?”
All the humor left his face. “Not if the conversation ends up where I think it should.”
That comment could have meant a couple of different things, one of them being that we wouldn’t be together for another five years. But I knew that wasn’t what he meant, not only because I knew Adan almost as well as I knew myself, but also because I understood without him saying a word how he thought things should end up. It was easy to know, because, crazy though it was, I felt the same way.
Thankfully, the conversation had to wait, because right then, Stephi raced up holding a huge book. “Mr. Scott, can you read this to me?”
Bobby was on her heels. “No! It’s Lego time.”
“I was first, Bobby!” Stephi shouted as she squeezed herself between me and Adan and thrust her book up.
“No, you weren’t.” Bobby tried to shove her out of the way. “Scott already promised he’d play Legos with me!”
I had some experience with kids because my sister was twenty years younger than me and I spent a lot of time with her. But because of our age difference, we were both essentially only children, so sibling rivalry was a completely foreign concept.
“I have an idea,” Adan said unexpectedly. “How about I read to Stephi while Scott builds with Bobby?” The kids stopped pushing each other and looked at him, seemingly trying to weigh this new offer. “And then we can trade spots and you can vote on who was the best builder and who was the best reader. Won’t that be fun?”
I would have rolled my eyes at how my übercompetitive boyfriend had managed to turn an evening with children into a game of winners and losers, but Stephi was already walking over to the couch, holding her book with one hand and two of Adan’s thick fingers with the other, and Bobby was tugging me to his bedroom, whispering about how I had the advantage because I had already played with his Legos.
“Who knew you had such a way with kids?” I said to Adan as I followed Bobby.
“I never have,” he said to me. “But they’re Chase’s, um, Charlie’s right? So we need to learn how.”
My heart tripped and my breath hitched. “You’re right. We do.”
And with those words, we had come to an agreement. No conversation needed.
UNFORTUNATELY, the conversation respite didn’t last long. By the time the kids were bathed and put in bed, and then given another glass of water and put in bed, and then read another book and put in bed, and then taken to the bathroom again and put in bed, and then mercifully fell asleep, Charlie walked in the front door.
He had looked horrified and shocked during the sixty seconds we’d spent together in his apartment before he said his good-byes to the kids and ran away. When he shuffled in the door at the end of the night, he looked just as horrified, just as shell-shocked, but also bone tired, and so miserable I wanted to scoop him up in my arms and promise I’d make everything okay.
Adan and I had just collapsed on the couch, but we both jumped to our feet when the door opened.
“Charlie,” I said happily.
At the same time, Adan, his voice filled with longing, said, “Chase.”
“Haven’t we already done this part?” Charlie asked. He tried to smile, but his voice was weak and his eyes were sad, so it didn’t come off as happy.
“What do you want to be called, baby?” Adan asked. “You tell us, and we’ll keep it straight.”