Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“How long did that last?”
“Until she met a rich man to marry. They live in Bordeaux. I’ve never been because I’ve never been invited. I’m the dirty secret she carried into her marriage.”
“Shit, Cat. Fucking awful. You don’t talk to her?”
“I get a birthday card some years, if she remembers. She somehow managed to take credit for my hard work in college, saying I got my brains and looks from her. No money. No present. She has millions in the bank and lives the life of luxury in France. I struggled to pay my tuition. My grandmother paid for my room and board. So yeah. That’s what you’re getting into with me.”
“Sometimes people can have it all but don’t realize until they lose it.” Kissing my hand, he says, “I’m not afraid of your past or fears. I can handle orderly, neat, and predictable because I know where that need now comes from.” He brings me to my feet and into his arms. “I can handle you. It’s a privilege, and we can handle anything as long as we’re together.”
I love you doesn’t seem enough for how Shane makes me feel. Safe, for the first time in my life.
And then my leg vibrates. We look between us. I’m already holding my breath while he digs the phone from his pocket. A grin springs to his cheeks as soon as he sees the screen.
Holding it up for me, he says, “It’s Mr. Waldrip.”
“Who’s Mr.—Oh my God! Our government teacher? How in the world.” I bounce, gripping his arm. “Answer it. Answer it.”
“Hello? Yeah, this is Shane.” He plugs his other ear and walks inside the house. “Thanks for calling me back . . .”
When Shane says he has his ways, I’ll never doubt him again. The man worked miracles in a matter of hours and helped heal a part of me just by being here for me. I love you is definitely not enough for how I feel about him. He’s amazing. Full stop.
35
Shane
Time is ticking like a bomb in my mind. Yet I still steal a few minutes to work through everything I’ve learned.
Cat likes things neat from what I remember of her apartment.
Orderly is a way of life for her.
Beige. Fucking beige. That motherfucking father of hers taught her to be invisible. Or else. I’ll spend my life making her feel the opposite.
I need more time after hanging up with Waldrip to process the damage her parents willingly did to her. Pacing the bedroom, I try to collect my thoughts on her parents. She’s so fucking strong and fiercely independent. It all fucking makes sense now, and I want to rage with anger. To make them pay for hurting her.
Stopping at the glass door to the outside, I stand with my arms crossed over my chest and stare into the hills and skyline of the city. She’s better than me, but she’s had years to deal with it. That’s the thing—I can’t rage in front of her. I don’t want to upset her. I want her to retain the power she’s created from within, not regress into the pain. So I can’t make this about them. It’s about her. Only her.
A knock on the door draws my attention. I try to adjust my face, demeanor, anything to be supportive of Cat now. I smile, seeing her cross the room. “Hey, so the call went well.”
Taking her hand, I lead her into the living room. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but I tuck some escaping strands behind her ear and kiss her on the cheek.
“That’s good. What happened?”
“Water? I’m going to get some water.” I move into the kitchen. “He said that he needs to do some research on what the curriculum was back then. It’s been updated each since, so he doesn’t know.”
“Did you tell him it was the month of April?”
“I did.” I pour from the pitcher, filling the glass. “I told him everything we knew.” Sliding it across the counter to her, I add, “Except I didn’t tell him we were married, or that we’re dating.”
“I agree.” She takes the glass and is about to drink but stops and lowers it to the counter. “We have to be careful, don’t we?”
This is the part that I hate, and now I’ve dragged her into it. “We do, or we become fodder for public consumption.”
She nods, turning the glass between her fingers. “So what happens next?”
“We wait.” I take a drink of water, watching her do the same, and then tap the screen of my phone to see the time. I wasted this morning sleeping in when I could have been guaranteed more time with her. Fuck it. I put it out there. “We’re at forty-seven hours and thirty-six minutes.”
The words hit her hard, judging by how she flinches. She lowers her glass, and a small smile appears, then grows wider. “Is that why you’re so nervous?”