Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
As it went, Alora had held a part-time job in the laundry department for the better part of her high school career after a co-op program with her private, church-funded school got her started volunteering at the manor. Scrubs, top and bottoms, were required by the staff despite some of the faculty who protested for their religious right to wear appropriate skirts. The thing was, there were appropriate scrub skirts. They simply weren’t approved by the church.
Gracen didn’t give a shit what the staff wore at Valleyview as long as the residents, and her grandmother, were taken care of when it came right down to it.
The sight in the parking lot was like a train wreck that Gracen couldn’t look away from. Alora found her waiting fiancé’s open arms, but it was the length and closeness of the hug that eventually made Gracen turn around.
She had to focus the sudden rush of anger—that she didn’t want to feel in the first place—somewhere. Gracen’s gaze dropped back down to her phone, and she pretended to be scrolling a conversation while she rounded her car to get in the driver’s side. Unfortunately, that also put her damn near side by side with the lovebirds.
She refused to drop the act with the phone even when Sonny told her, “I just wanted to say it was nice to see you, anyway. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, same,” she replied.
An echo of her usual self.
Gracen hated that, too.
It didn’t matter, though, because more than anything, she wanted this random meeting to be over. If Sonny would do that for the both of them—all the better. It saved Gracen the time and energy.
“It’s Gracen, right?” Alora asked at Gracen’s back before she could pull open the driver’s door. She didn’t turn around. “Sorry, I only wanted to say hi. We didn’t get a chance to meet that day at your salon.”
Gracen shot a careful smile over her shoulder, but kept her gaze low to avoid them seeing the irritation just being near her ex caused inside. “No worries. It’s always kind of busy there—things get crazy.”
“I told Delaney it kind of feels like I know you, anyway. Between how she talks about you, and Sonny—”
“I can’t imagine what he would have to tell you about me.” Gracen couldn’t get the driver’s door open fast enough after those words passed her lips. There was no way to hide the heat in her tone—the remnants of hurt.
Before she got inside her car, though, Gracen turned on the young woman and a now-quiet Sonny who kept a protective arm around Alora’s waist. Gracen kept her glare on him—it really wasn’t meant for Alora even if her words triggered the anger—when she said, “No, I mean I really can’t imagine he’d have anything to say about me at all. Did he tell you that everything was fine up until the second he called to say it was over?”
Alora’s head snapped up to Sonny who continued surveying the parking lot.
“Or that this,” Gracen said, cutting a finger between them in the air, “is the first time we’ve spoken since that phone call, in fact? Because unless he’s told you those things, none of the rest really matters. Congrats on the wedding, though.”
Gracen smiled, but neither of the two people in the parking lot noticed. Sonny and Alora had other things to consider, now.
“Have a good night,” Gracen said before slipping into the driver’s seat of the Civic and shutting the door.
It felt good to say it.
To finally get something out.
It hurt at first, too.
She didn’t dislike Alora.
Barely knew her, really.
Gracen’s chipped shoulder wasn’t about the fact Sonny had a fiancée. Her scars went a bit deeper than just the skin’s surface. However, she wouldn’t in the same breath pretend like they didn’t exist for the sake of anyone else’s comfort and peace of mind.
She was way past that.
Chapter 17
Gracen stumbled through to Friday in the worst way. She blamed the random run-in with Sonny and Alora earlier in the week for the reason why she lost her focus and found her wits end when closing rolled around.
“Take the weekend off,” Margot said, her rhythmic sweeping of the salon continuing even when Gracen didn’t lift her head from her hands to say she’d heard her speak. “Just do it. It’s not like you cancel appointments all the time, anyway. Nobody’s gonna mind. It’s a day. One day, Gracen.”
Delaney’s bright idea for Gracen to chill that weekend—except for her visit to Mimi on Sunday afternoon—came up after a smoke or two went missing from her friend’s purse. Maybe Margot had also found Gracen smoking one of said cigarettes in the back after her last appointment of the day.
She was grateful that Delaney and Margot were there to listen to Gracen’s partial breakdown over a parking lot meeting that should have never happened, but their solution for her to take a day off didn’t exactly fix what was wrong. Not that Gracen had the answer to that problem, either.