Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Yeah, well, the curtains in your bedroom suck.” Humor traces each of her words and picks up her lips.
Her amethyst silk pajamas have an expensive feel and look out of place in my modest townhouse kitchen. Moving my glance to the worn, baggy tee I use as a nightgown, I note how at odds our wardrobes are. I know I could match her with any number of dainty nighties I have tucked in the bottom drawer of my dresser, but last night I needed comfort. So I turned to an old sleep shirt I used to wear in college. Robert’s seen me in this shirt plenty over the years. He’s stripped it from me and left it a puddle of cloth on the floor next to my bed half a dozen times … and just that thought brings my mood down even farther.
A loud yawn from Renee, which if I had to guess, I’d say was exaggerated, pulls me from my thoughts. Grabbing the coffeepot and pouring herself a cup in her favorite mug of mine, a rose gold number that says “Manifest It” on the front, Renee repeats her question. “So, couldn’t sleep?”
“You were hogging the bed,” I rebut weakly, letting the playfulness come out more than giving a serious answer. An asymmetric smile pulls at my lips, but the tension still wrestles inside of me and I can’t hide that from Renee. Her raised eyebrow tells me as much.
She doesn’t push and I turn my back to her, opening the cabinet in search of a bowl so I can pour myself cereal.
Her spoon tinks as she stirs in creamer. Renee tells me I’m the one who steals the covers and as the tiny spheres of sugary sweet morsels fill the ceramic bowl, she adds that her staying over has never stopped me from sleeping before. The cereal box hits the counter with a dull thud and a beat passes in silence as my hunger for anything at all leaves me.
“You’re sad about Robert?” Renee asks as I leave the bowl behind me, opting instead for an empty stomach and more caffeine. The breakfast of champions.
I could barely speak last night when I got home. It’s hard to explain how difficult it is to look into the eyes of one of your best friends and tell him you don’t accept his marriage proposal. It was more than a bruised ego that stared back at me from his baby blues. He was devastated … and I did that to him.
“I just feel guilty,” I confess into my coffee and blow away the steady steam before taking another sip and then another. I have to tilt the cup nearly all the way back to get the last few drops. I love Robert and I always will. And he loves me; I know he does.
“Here.” Renee gestures with the pot, offering to fill up my cup and I meet her halfway. “You shouldn’t feel guilty,” she tells me like I don’t deserve to feel like crap for putting him through that last night.
“I’ve never turned down a proposal before, but I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to come with a few negative feelings.” I can feel my eyes roll, which is better than pricking with tears.
Renee snorts. “Yeah, on his part.”
Staring at Renee, her hair already brushed and looking like silk compared to my mess of a bun, I wish she understood.
“He was talking about leaving and starting fresh.”
We can start over. Us and Bridget. If you’re ready for more, I want it with you. I want to be with you forever, Mags.
Remembering his confession makes me grip the counter behind me to remain upright. The words were spoken with raw vulnerability and I couldn’t stop him until he pulled out the box.
“I wish you had been there. He sounded desperate, Renee. You should’ve seen him.” Again, Renee scoffs at the idea.
“He wanted to leave Beaufort?” She blinks comically, both hands wrapped around the coffee mug.
“As if I’d want to leave this place. I don’t … I don’t know where that came from.” Last night, I saw the same man who stood in front of me only a few feet away from where I am now, begging me to let him help. And just like back then, I told him no.
“You told him no, you’re never leaving this place, right?”
“Of course I did.” The mug clinks as I set it down on the counter. “I don’t know how he could even think of leaving. This is our home.” Renee’s eyebrow quirks at the use of “our,” but she lets it slide, opting to swallow down whatever sarcastic comment was hoping to slip out.
“So Brody comes along and suddenly Robert wants to put down roots.” Renee’s remark drips with implication.
Brody. Just hearing his name twists my heart.