Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I swallow, nod, and try not to let her see how her words affect me. It’s like she’s running a truck directly into my dreams, but I can’t blame her. I asked her to be honest, and she’s right. How could this ever work?
“I don’t enjoy saying that,” she says after a moment. “I’ve never seen you like this before. You clearly care about him.”
“My crush started while Ryan and I were still together,” I tell her. “Ryan showed me a photo, and I liked him. I more than liked him. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a family with him. I wanted to marry him.”
With each declaration, Rachael leans slightly away. It’s like she thinks my insanity is contagious. “Whoa,” she says. “I… whoa.”
“Yeah, I know. Nuts, right?”
“No, I wouldn’t say nuts.”
“So you think I’m sane for wanting all that after seeing a photo when I knew he was my then-boyfriend’s dad?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I’ve never experienced anything like that. I don’t know what to say. I want to support you, but…”
“But,” I say forcefully when she trails off.
“I’m not sure how I can support you,” she says, “because thinking like this will not lead to anywhere good, not if it’s already over. If you want my advice…”
“I do,” I say. Then I’m punched hard in the mind with a powerful image of Duke smiling down at me, our hands linked, the words I do coming from his lips, that captivating smirk touching the corner of his mouth.
“I think you should try to let him go,” she says. “It will be for the best. You’ll find somebody else, somebody closer in age, somebody who isn’t your ex’s dad. Somebody who wants to be with you.”
That last one stings, but she says it in a kind tone. I know she wants the best for me. I know she’s saying all this to help me, but it doesn’t change the fact that my initial instinct is to scream at her. My initial reflex is to tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
I fight that response, nodding, knowing she’s right. No, not knowing, but thinking logically, she has to be right. Looking at it from the outside like I asked her to do, there’s no way this can work.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Anyway, I’ll be in Korea soon. Maybe I’ll find someone there.”
Before Duke, the Korea trip filled me with excitement and hope for the future. Now, the idea of leaving feels so wrong. I can’t leave the future father of my children.
Maybe I’ll have to let Rachael do the thinking for me. Or, every time I think about Duke, I’ll have to step outside myself and try to view the situation as if I’m looking at somebody else. I don’t want to do this. I’d rather hold on to the impossible lie that we will be together long term. I’d rather believe we can somehow make this work.
But how? The man I want—need—said we couldn’t do this. He told me this couldn’t work. What exactly do I think I’m going to do, convince him? Even if I thought I could, I don’t want our relationship to be something I have to persuade him to want.
Rachael smiles after a pause. “You’ll find the man of your dreams in Korea, and none of this will seem as important.”
Again, I remind myself that Rachael wants the best for me. Even when she encouraged me to return some of Ryan’s attention, she thought he was a good guy. When I finally told her about his belittling comments, she tried to get me to leave him immediately.
When she tells me I’ll find somebody else, I can’t help it. A small part of me hates her. There is nobody else. Just Duke. Just our future.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Duke
I let out a short breath as I kick Ryan in the side of the leg. Ryan winces, stepping back, his hands raised, mouth open, showing his mouthguard as he limps backward across the mat.
“It hurts,” he wheezes.
“Hit me back then,” I growl, thinking about my ex’s partner, Joel, the weak, overindulging little worm. My son doesn’t even know how to fight. Who’s fault is that? I should’ve been there. I was too reckless when I was younger. Too—
Ryan steps in with a pretty decent jab. My instinct is to dodge it, but I let him knock me on the chin, then nod, lifting my hands. “Good. Again.”
He steps in and ducks his head. I catch him with an uppercut, thrown at maybe ten percent power. It catches him lightly in the chin, and he stumbles backward. For a sick second, I almost swarm him, just like I would in a real fight. Run in—maybe a flying knee to create chaos—and then I’d clinch up, drive him against the cage, beat him up in the clinch, and sweep the leg.