Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“I love you, too.” Anna smiles and stretches to peek over my shoulder out the kitchen window behind me. “Now prepare to answer the door. Alex and Blaire just pulled up.”
The arrivals are loud and chaotic; everyone immediately gets a drink in their hand and is blessedly loose by the second. By the time we sit down to eat, we are a noisy bunch. Our table growing up sat sixteen, and nobody but my dad ever spoke much at mealtimes. This table seats eight and there are twelve of us with extra chairs from the kitchen carried in, sitting crammed together, knees knocking, some of us straddling the corners, everyone bumping elbows. We’re occupying the same space; we are making room for each other. There is not a single break in the conversation all night.
My mother’s only passive-aggressive comment—“Anna, darling. You look so comfortable in that outfit!”—earns only a hearty “I am!” from my beloved. Blaire is just as loud as always but seems to drink less. Charlie is newly pregnant with twins and she and Reagan practically glow under Anna’s attention. Jake and Kellan have Mom screaming with laughter while they do the dishes. Alex is calmer out from under our dad’s shadow, more attentive with his kids. He ends the night being GW’s fire engine, walking on all fours around our living room while GW puts out “fires.” Alex and I don’t exchange a single sharp word all night. There’s no need for us to compete because there’s nobody to impress. It gives me hope that he’ll be okay. That we’ll be okay.
ANNA
ON THE NIGHT OF August 12, officially our sixth wedding anniversary, Liam works late. It’s been a big day: With his foundation fully funded as of last year, he spent today awarding tuition and grant money to this year’s 250 Weston employee recipients. If, like me, you’re delighted by the idea of a proud Liam Weston handing out giant paper checks, prepare to be disappointed. Liam was proud, but each person who walked up to the lectern received a leather-bound certificate of appreciation, a heartfelt handshake, and a discreet but impressive automatic deposit into their bank account. Still, even without the magic that would have been confetti and giant checks, the ceremony was wonderful. I sat in the audience beside Janet and Alex, with tears in my eyes, watching Liam fulfill a dream he’s had for almost a decade. It might seem strange to those of us who grew up without money to imagine wealth ever being a burden, but Liam saw the people he loved do terrible things with those resources, and I can only imagine the weight that’s been lifted for him by seeing those same resources used for good.
I left Liam a few hours ago, and when he gets home, he calls up the stairs for me.
“Up here!” I tell him, listening to the clunk of his shoes coming off one by one near the back door, the sound of his keys dropping into the bowl on the counter, and his footsteps on the wood stairs.
“You’re never going to believe what happened after you left,” he says, his voice growing louder as he makes his way down the hall toward our room. “Alex stopped by my office and asked to be more involved with the selection process next year. I’m telling you; he’s grown into his position so much. It’s like he’s a di—” He stops just inside the doorway, hand caught in midair as if he were about to loosen his tie. “Well, hello.” He eyes the scene before him, a distinct glint of interest already darkening his amber eyes.
The scene before him is me, completely naked and waiting for him on the Hungarian goose down and Egyptian cotton dream that is our giant bed. Our bed, in our bedroom, in our house. Fuck, I still love saying that. On my finger is the ring. It isn’t the first time I’ve put it on since Liam gave it back to me—I’d occasionally take it out and try it on for a minute or two and then put it back—but today is the first time I’ve left it on. Today felt different. Today felt right.
“Hello, Dr. Weston,” I say. “How was your day?”
“Pretty good, but I’d say it’s improving by the minute.” He pulls off his tie with a grin. “What’s happening here?”
“Oh, you know, it was such a big day I thought we could keep celebrating.” With my legs stretched out in front of me and crossed at the ankles, I place my palm on my chest, wiggling my fingers. “Notice anything different?”
His gaze slides up my body, from my toes to my breasts, and I know when he’s spotted the diamond—I mean how could he not, it’s huge—because his tie falls to the carpet at his feet. He meets my eyes again and I wonder if he sees the ocean of words there, all of them for him. “Anna… what are you saying?”