Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“Yeah, look how that turned out.”
“Colten …”
“It’s not a date. Now, I have to get going so I’m not late to the ballet with my friend, Layla.”
“Layla? You didn’t tell me her name. That’s a beautiful name. Is she as pretty as her name?”
“Mom …” I frown at the phone screen.
“Just tell me you know it’s okay to feel something more than friendship for another woman. Josie would have wanted it for you.”
I sigh. “It’s funny how everyone seems to know what Josie would have wanted more than me … her best friend. Nobody knew Josie better than I knew her.”
“Fine. So you tell me. Would she have wanted you to find love again?”
“No.”
“What?” Mom sounds shocked by my answer. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. I’m not saying she wouldn’t have said that’s what she wanted. But the one thing that seemed to have flown under everyone’s radar was how much she loved me. How much she wanted me. How much she hated every girl I ever dated. She’d want me to die a lonely man.” I lie. I lie because I don’t like the truth.
“Well, Mrs. Leach is pretty cool. I think she’s my favorite teacher. And if she can move on so quickly and remarry after losing her husband, I think you can too.”
I wanted her to believe we would never find another love like ours. We weren’t the Leaches.
“I don’t know if I believe that, Colten. She wasn’t selfish like that.”
“Well, it’s a moot point anyway. I’m not ready to date. Don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to date, but tonight I’m going to the ballet with a friend who knows what I’m going through.”
Mom nods. “I’m happy for you. Have a nice evening. I love you.”
“Love you too. Night, Mom.”
On my way to pick up Layla, it hits me … picking her up seems like a date.
It’s not a date.
There’s no turning back now. I’ve spent so much of my life with the wrong women all the while thinking about Josie. Loving her was as much a curse as it was a gift. Still, I’d do it all over again.
When I pull into Layla’s driveway, I’m a little relieved that she’s waiting for me outside. I don’t even get my car in Park before she heads straight toward the passenger door in her red dress that matches my tie. Total coincidence. Red lipstick. And her hair is in loose blond waves. She is pretty.
But she’s not Josie.
“Hey, handsome. Nice tie.” She closes the door and fastens her seat belt.
“Thanks. You look nice too.”
If it were a date, I’d up the nice to pretty.
No … no, I wouldn’t.
You look pretty.
I’d use another word like beautiful or lovely.
“What are the chances that you could run by CVS so I can grab some lozenges? My allergies are acting up, and I know I’m going to get that crazy tickle in my throat during the performance and make a scene with my coughing if I don’t have a lozenge.”
“Sure. We can do that.”
When we get to CVS, I park and follow her inside.
“You could have waited in the car. It will only take me a minute.”
“It’s fine. I might grab some gum or something myself.” I follow her to the aisle with the lozenges.
“They don’t have cherry. I’m going to have to go with lemon eucalyptus. Not great, but it will do.” She grabs the package.
I turn to head toward the front of the store with her right behind me.
“Oops, sorry.” I nearly run into a lady with a walker.
She glances up.
She. Glances. Up.
And I … I … can’t breathe. I’m so fucking afraid to even blink. This … this isn’t possible.
“Hi,” she says in a weak voice I barely recognize.
If it weren’t for her eyes and the tattoos on her arms, I wouldn’t recognize her. She’s so … so incredibly frail. In one breath, she’s resurrected, only to look like she’s withering away. Loose skin. Hollow-eyed. Haggard.
It takes my brain a moment to decide if this is real.
“Colten?” I barely register Layla’s voice.
I don’t have one. Single. Word.
My heart has been ejected from my chest and shoved into my throat.
Josie’s gaze slides to my right. To Layla.
“We don’t want to be late,” Layla says.
I didn’t think it was possible for Josie to look any sadder, but with the downcast of her eyes, she says, “Nice seeing you.” She barely has a voice. Did she lose it?
“Josie, did you find—” A guy stops behind her, midsentence, eyes on me.
I can’t tell if he recognizes me. I don’t know him. But the way he gently rests his hand on Josie’s bony shoulder tells me he knows who I am. Is it just me? So fucking lost in the dark? I don’t know if this is a dream or a nightmare.
Again, Josie’s gaze drifts to Layla. “You l-look … pretty.”