Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. It might be. All you had to do was snap your fingers, and clothes arrived at your door before seven in the morning. Sounds like a miracle to me.” She rubs her hands down the sides of her legs, sending poppy, sesame, and whatever else kind of seeds on that bagel spiraling to the floor.
I must have died in the accident. That’s the only thing that explains the hell I’m living in.
She says, “Small confession. I’ve never had sneakers that cost that much in my life. It’s like walking in heaven.”
“Of course it’s heaven for you. As for me . . .” I sigh. “Never mind. Taking another shower would be too much of a hassle even if it would lessen the tension she causes in my muscles. I get up and head to the closet, but then I stop and detour out of the bedroom. I’m in no mood to see the catastrophe of what used to bring me peace.
I can hear her quickened footsteps behind me. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
“Nothing. I need to work to take my mind off . . .” I hit her with a glare when she enters my periphery. “Off you.”
The words cause her to physically jerk away from me. I’m instantly struck with regret. “Delaney—”
“No,” she says, raising her hands in front of her. “I think you need some time alone.” Grabbing her purse from the island, she picks up the sneakers and walks around the corner to the hall in her sock-covered feet.
“Delaney, wait.” I rush to the hall and stand there as she slips on the sneakers, leaving the laces untied. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” Keeping her eyes on the task, she replies, “Couples fight. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“We’re not a couple.” Her eyes find mine as she stands back up. Wrapping the strap of her bag over her head, she sighs, letting the disappointment penetrate her eyes. Seeing the pain that would only be revealed if we meant something to each other has me believing we were real or are. Fuck. I drag my hands over my head and rest them on top. “I’m sorry.”
She nods once, her eyes leaving mine as she turns away from me and opens the door. There’s no snarky comeback or detail of our life I can’t remember thrown out like it happened yesterday. There’s nothing, not her blue eyes or sharp tongue. Not even a goodbye when she leaves, closing the door behind her.
This is best. If we’re a couple, we were separated for good reason, and I feel privy to what that might be now. If we aren’t together, it’s good that she’s gone.
I stare at the door longer than I should for someone who’s certain in his stance. Aren’t all fools? I leave the bolts unlocked and return to the island. But I can’t stop myself from stealing one more glance as if she’ll walk through that door like she never left. When she doesn’t, I double down on regret. She didn’t deserve my reaction or my anger. I fucked up.
What am I doing? I wanted her gone, and now she is. Why do I feel like shit, then?
I look back once more, as if the situation has taken a new turn. It hasn’t, and rationally, I recognize that’s for the best. That I even doubted that for a second sends me reeling. Get your head out of her ass, Landers. Work. That’s what I need. I should lower my head and get the job done. I can only imagine how many emails have piled up. Strange that Jocelyn hasn’t tried to contact me.
I look for the new phone so I can set it up with my contacts, add the email apps, make some calls, and get back on track, but there’s nothing here except the cable used to charge it. I bend to look at the end as if I’ll find it on the floor. When I stand, I search the countertop and scan the living room. “Okay, this makes no sense.”
Returning to the bedroom, I peek in to see if it’s on the nightstand, but all that’s there is the coffee that apparently matches my soul and a bagel ruining the surface. I turn back, then go inside and grab the bagel. How can anyone live in these conditions? Messy everywhere, a graveyard of seeds sticking to my feet, and I can’t even look in the direction of the closet without getting angry when the images of clothes piled on the floor return.
I should be elated that she's gone. Instead, I’m wondering how I’m going to take a shower without her assistance. A woman helped me once, and now I can’t manage my own life. This is asinine. I’m a grown man. I can take a shower without anyone’s help. I’ve done it most of my life. When did I become helpless? I’m not.