Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Find my way back to her.
My biggest mistake.
Because I should never have left.
Chapter 24
Rylee
August calls during the week. Our conversations are short. He asks me about Winter, and we leave it at that. I don’t bring up what happened between us, and thankfully, he doesn’t either.
I’m still a little disgusted by it all, if I am honest.
How could he do that? Sleep with Anderson’s mother. What the fuck?
When I walk out of work, Anderson’s mother is standing there. Her phone is to her ear as she looks up at me. I duck my head and try to walk past her, but she steps in front of me and blocks my path, making me raise my eyes to hers. Shandy walks up behind me and touches my shoulder.
Anderson’s mother eyes her. “Give us a minute, girl.”
Shandy is about to laugh at her words until I turn around and nod to her. Shandy concedes and says, “I’ll be by your car. Call if you need me.”
“She won’t.”
“What can I help you with, Mrs. Lee?”
“You chose that boy, that disgusting boy, over my son.” She wrinkles her nose up at me.
“He mustn’t have been too disgusting for you to fuck him,” I bite back. Her face goes red with embarrassment, and I am proud that I can speak so openly like this. Something I have never been able to do before. This woman must think I have no backbone. Well, she is dead wrong. It was purely out of respect when I was with Anderson. And now? Well, she doesn’t have any sort of respect from me—the opposite, actually.
“How dare you, child? Who do you think you are?”
“I’m whoever the fuck I want to be. How about next time, you don’t cheat on your husband and keep your hands to yourself.” I turn to leave, but her voice stops me.
“How much did he charge you? Because I would have paid more. I mean, he is good, isn’t he?”
I turn around and stalk straight over, pulling up right in her face. “You are sick. Fucking sick. You know that, right? August doesn’t charge me. He loves me. There is a difference. You…” I spit, eyeing her up and down, “… were simply a way to feed himself. Don’t think for a second he would have chosen you when he could have this.” I turn and walk away from her, my fists bunched up, wanting to punch her in the face but refraining because that is not me.
“Rylee.”
I roll my eyes when I see Anderson standing in front of me.
Can this day get any worse?
Anderson looks past me to his mother, then back to me.
“I can’t blame you for being such a fuckwit anymore, Anderson. It comes from your mother,” I yell.
Anderson scrunches up his nose in confusion. “Rylee.” He goes to reach for me, but I pull back. I never, ever want to feel his touch on me again. “I have a son. Did you know that?” He changes the subject. Then his face goes hard as his eyes narrow in on me. “And your boyfriend is keeping him from me.”
“That’s wrong, and you know it.” I go to walk away, but he steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“Tell August I’ll be seeing him. I’m not the same man I was five years ago. He no longer scares me.” Anderson smirks and steps around me, going to his mother’s side, then looks back. “I never thought I could be disgusted with you until I heard you fucked the same man that fucked my mother. That is wrong. So, so wrong.”
His mother turns up her nose as if she is pleased with this ignoramus’ words.
Seriously, that family is all kinds of fucked up and then some more.
“Hey, I saw your ex. Are you okay?” Shandy walks up behind me and looks to where they are walking away.
“How was I ever with someone so totally wrong for me?” I ask as I turn to her.
“We all make mistakes. You know better now, and that’s all that matters.”
I’ve thought about this situation a lot.
Dealing with August.
And none of it went as I had imagined. It all went worse. Way worse.
“Do you plan to sit there and ignore me?” my mother asks as we sit at the table for a family dinner. She still insists we have them, so we all agreed to one night a month. Beckham smirks at me, knowing I want to ignore her, but now she’s called me out on it, I won’t. I turn and see the girls sitting at the smaller table my mother got for them. They’re playing with Barbies as they eat.
“The possibility is there.”
“Stop smiling at your sister.” A napkin is thrown at Beckham’s head, and he rubs the spot as if it hurt him, but of course, it didn’t. “I didn’t invite them here. They showed up.”