Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I watched her hurry out of the kitchen, feeling like I’d failed her.
The water continued to swirl over my head.
EIGHTEEN
ELLIE
I went straight to Winnie’s office and shut the door behind me. The moment she looked up from her desk, I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey,” she said, coming over and giving me a hug. “What is it?”
“I’m pregnant!” I wailed.
She laughed a little, rubbing my back. “I know, babe. I know.”
“I told Gianni last night.”
“Oh. I saw him this morning, but he didn’t say anything. He did seem a little distracted though. How did it go?”
“It was rough.” I went for the box of tissues on her desk. “We argued about whose fault it was.”
“Of course you did.”
“I got angry because he kept saying ‘This can’t be right.’ Like he wasn’t listening or didn’t believe me.” I blew my nose. “So I picked a fight. I threw things at him.”
“Did it make you feel better?”
“No. It just reminded me how we bring out the worst in each other.”
Winnie sat on the edge of her desk. “So then what?”
“We had sex.”
Her jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“You heard me. We had hot, angry sex on the kitchen counter.” I closed my eyes. “I’m so stupid. I thought it would get him out of my system, give me closure or something.”
“Did it?”
“No! It made everything worse!”
Winnie dropped into her chair. “I’ve got whiplash trying to keep up here. So are you . . . together? Friends? Enemies?”
“I don’t know what we are. Not together. Not enemies. Maybe friends.” I shrugged. “He’s trying to be nice. He proposed.”
Her eyes popped. “Wait. He proposed?”
“No, actually, he didn’t. He just said something like, ‘Should we get married?’ And the look on his face told me exactly how he felt about that possibility—sick to his stomach.”
“Okay, but he had to be in a serious state of shock.”
“He also offered to try to get out of the Hot Mess contract.”
“He did?” She smiled tentatively. “That’s a good sign.”
“I told him to go do the show,” I said. “I want him to go. He has to go.”
Winnie stared at me. “Why?”
“Because I need to get over him, Winnie.” As I confessed the truth, the tears started up again, and I yanked another tissue from the box. “I need him to go away so these feelings can fade. I’m sure it’s just pregnancy hormones on top of the memory of those orgasms, but in ten weeks, I’ll feel like myself again. Poof.”
“Poof?” Winnie shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s how hormones or feelings work, Ell.”
“But you know what they say—out of sight, out of mind.”
“They also say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
I blew my nose. “You’re not helping. Is this retaliation for making you sing karaoke at Christmas?”
“No,” Winnie said with a shudder, “although that was horrific.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
She jumped out of her chair, came around the desk and shook me gently by the shoulders. “I am, Ellie. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I love you like crazy. I just think you might be wrong about him.”
“I’m not! You know what he did just now in the kitchen? He asked me to go with him.”
Winnie’s eyes went wide, and she dropped her arms. “To California?”
“Yes. But when I asked him why he wanted me to come with him, he said, ‘Because you’re pregnant. And I feel bad leaving.’ Not ‘Because I want to be with you.’”
“Okay, but men don’t always know the exact right answer,” she said carefully. “Maybe he does want to be with you, but he was scared to say it. Or he doesn’t know how to say it.”
“No.” I shook my head. “What he wants is to do the right thing, because he feels guilty, and I get it. But I don’t need his pity proposal or his charity outing to California. I’d rather be alone.”
“Are you sure?” Winnie pressed gently.
“I’m one hundred percent sure.”
Winnie sighed. “God, you are so strong. I’d have been like ‘Yes! Take me with you! Ride me off into your Hollywood sunset!’”
“I’ve done enough riding.” I blew my nose again. “At this point, I need to keep my feet on the ground. And my knees closed!”
Someone knocked on Winnie’s office door, and I met her eyes with alarm. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.
“Yes?” she called out. “Who is it?”
“It’s Felicity!”
Winnie looked to me for permission, and I nodded. “Come in!” she called.
Felicity pushed the door open, talking excitedly. “Hey! Guess who texted me this morning!” She stopped when she saw me. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s okay,” I said, grabbing another tissue.
“Is—is everything all right?” Felicity looked back and forth between her sister and me with concern.
“Yes,” Winnie said, her tone overly bright, her cheeks turning pink. The poor thing was an awful liar. “Everything is fine. Totally fine.”