Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
She smiles and nods her head. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I wait for him to slip on brand new pjs that we found in one of the bedrooms. Becca really did think of everything. “How was your day?” I ask, and he smiles.
“I had fun with Nana,” he says and then jumps on the king-size bed in the room.
“I wanted to talk to you a bit,” I tell him as he slides into the bed. “About your mom and me.” I start, and he looks at me.
“Are you guys getting divorced?” he asks, and I’m shocked. “Katie’s mom and dad are divorced,” he tells me, “but she says it’s okay.”
I nod my head. “We are getting divorced,” I tell him, wondering what else I can say. “But that doesn’t change how we feel about you,” I say. “Plus, now you get to have two rooms, and you can do sleepovers whenever you want.”
“Sleepovers,” he says. “Is it like the sleepovers that Mommy has with Thomas when you go to play hockey?” My heart sinks, and my chest aches. She had him sleep over when I wasn’t there. My hands shake with rage that she did that.
“Yeah, like that,” I say, pretending that what she did was right. “But for the next couple of days, you are going to stay home with grandma.” His eyes open wider.
“I’m going to ask her to make my favorite cupcakes,” he says, and I shake my head.
“I think she’ll do whatever you want,” I say, and he sinks down into the bed. “Good night, son,” I tell him, kissing his cheek and walking out.
I walk downstairs, my head still spinning about Murielle having Thomas stay over. I send Becca a message.
Me: She had Thomas sleeping over in my house when I went on the road.
I put my phone in my pocket and walk into the kitchen. My mother has cleaned up everything, and she is making herself some tea. “Hey,” I say, and when she turns around, I see that she has been crying. I pull out a stool and sit down. “Stop crying,” I tell her, and she just looks at me.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks. “We could have . . .”
“What could you have done, Mom?” I tell her. “I made my bed, so I was lying in it.”
“You weren’t the only one,” she says. “I always hated that bitch.”
I laugh now. “I met someone,” I tell her, and she looks up at me with shock on her face. “By accident,” I tell her. “We met one night and . . .” I look down. “Something shifted.” I try to explain it. “She had no idea who I was, and I didn’t tell her. One week later, I see her at the hockey arena with Jaxon. She’s the aunt to one of his best friends.”
“Oh my god, talk about the universe taking things into their own hands,” she says. I tell her all about Evelyn, and my face ends with a smile.
“You love her then,” she says, and I look at her. “When you came in before, I thought you would have this empty look in your eyes. The same empty look that you’ve had in your eyes for the past five years.” I open my mouth to say something, anything, but she holds up her hands. “Don’t even try to pretend.” She shakes her head, walking over to the kettle and pouring herself some hot water. “I saw it. Your father saw it. We tried to pretend we didn’t, but we couldn’t. Then you got even more distant.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I tell her. “It was wrong, and I should have put my foot down.”
“I know,” she says. “Your father wasn’t too happy about it, but we understood.”
“When I found out Murielle was having an affair, it didn’t even hurt me. I didn’t even flinch.”
“You didn’t love her,” she says. “You love that she gave you Jaxon, but you didn’t love her.”
“I guess I didn’t.” I agree with her, my finger tapping the counter.
“Go,” she says, and I look up at her. “Go. I’ll call you if Jaxon wakes up.”
“How did you . . .?” I ask her.
“You’ve been antsy since you walked in. You checked your phone every second during dinner. Then you took it with you upstairs. You’ve never done that.”
I get up. “Are you sure?” I ask, and she laughs. “I think I can handle it.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I walk over to her, and I kiss her cheek and hug her. I start to walk out of the room when she calls my name.
“Thank her,” she tells me, and I just look at her, “for giving me back my son.” I smile at her and nod.
I make it over to her house in record time and ring the bell. “Manning.” I hear her say my name as she opens the door. “What are you doing here?”