Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Her eyes flared. “You think I don’t see you’re bitter that I won?”
“And what did you win, exactly?”
“The man you love.”
Not the man we love, I noted.
I could have corrected her belief that I still loved him, but nothing I could say would make her believe anything other than what she wanted to believe. So instead, I pointed out, “But you didn’t really win him, though. You merely won the game you played. He went back to you, yes. But not until you threatened to move away with his kids.”
“Is that what he told you?” Felicity huffed. “I suppose he did it to spare your feelings. Well, he lied.”
“He did, huh?”
“Oh, yes, very much so. He never wanted a divorce. He fought it hard. And during the years we were separated, he asked several times for us to reconcile.”
“Let me guess,” said Sabrina, appearing out of the shadows, “he stopped showing any interest in doing so when he met Addison.”
Felicity snapped her mouth shut.
“You didn’t like that, I’ll bet,” Sabrina went on. “Not at all. It showed that you didn’t have the same level of power over him anymore. Addison had it. So you did your best to take it back, only it didn’t work. You have him just like you wanted, but the power is still hers. Because he misses her, doesn’t he? You see it. I see it. Everyone sees it.”
Felicity plopped a hand on her hip. “Then why,” she snarked, “if he doesn’t truly want me, does he fuck me every night?”
Sabrina gave her a pitying look. “Let’s face it, sweetie, he’s probably picturing Addison.”
I winced as Felicity’s cheeks went scarlet. The woman likely didn’t believe it to be true—actually, neither did I—but the idea that someone else might hold that opinion certainly hit her right in the ego. “Felicity, how about you go back to your family.”
“How about you not try telling me what to do,” she bitchily countered.
I raised my shoulders. “What’s the point in this? Really? As you said, you won. Congrats. Go party it up.” I turned back to the pile of gifts on the ground.
“Hey, we’re not finished.”
I didn’t respond. I took a neatly wrapped box from the pile and loaded it onto the van.
“I have more to say to you.”
And I just didn’t care.
“Don’t you ignore me.”
Fingers wrapped around my arm and pulled hard, nails digging into my skin.
Oh, the fuck no. Feeling my face harden, I went nose to nose with her. “Let. Go.” My voice was low. Calm. Eerily flat. “You don’t want to take me on, Felicity. You see, I wouldn’t kick your ass here and now—I’m working, after all. No, but I’d come for you. I’d find you. I would wipe the fucking floor with you, and I think you know it.”
Her eyes flickering, she loosened her hold on my arm. Yeah, she knew it. She was full of attitude and snark, but she had no fight in her to back it up physically.
“Last chance,” I warned. “Let go.”
Her expression tightened, but she released my arm and stepped back.
“Felicity!” Grayden called out.
I looked to see him steadily approaching, his apprehensive hazel gaze darting from me to her.
Swallowing, he held his hand out to her. “Come on, the kids are wondering where you are.”
She gave him a dazzling smile that held a bite as she went to his side. “I was just telling these ladies that they did a fantastic job with the event,” she told him, lightly stroking her fingers through the short, cognac-brown strands of his hair.
“And we were just thanking her for her compliments,” said Sabrina. “Bye, bye now.”
Grayden swiftly guided Felicity away. He glanced back at me over his shoulder, but I avoided meeting his gaze, uninterested in interacting with him in even the most basic sense.
Sabrina wrung her hands, as if to shake off her anger. “There’s going to come a day when I slap her super hard, and you’d better not try to stop me.”
I lifted another gift from the pile. “So long as you don’t do it during work hours, I don’t care. She’s not worth it, though. Don’t let her rile you.”
“I can’t always help it.”
I added the box to the van. “Understandable. Now, fancy giving me a hand here?”
Together, we transferred the wrapped gifts and pretty bags—and there was a lot of them—to the vehicle.
Hearing my phone beep, I fished it out of my pocket. My lips flattened when I saw it was a text from Grayden: I’m sorry, I tried keeping her away from you.
“Why are you making that face?” asked Sabrina.
I showed her the message.
She cursed. “Are you going to respond?”
“No. I never do.”
She did a double-take. “He texts you on the regular?”
“He used to. Now, it’s more like every few weeks. Only ever to say something mundane—he might ask how I am or make a random comment like, Oh, you’ll love the new Trace Lacroix movie, it’s awesome.”