Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Why would I regret it?”
“Other women might think you’re not available.”
He frowned and looked displeased, but he didn’t say anything. I began to stroke his hair again, but he felt tense.
“Do you think I would have sex with you and see other women?” he asked.
I lowered the Kindle. “We never said exclusive.”
“Do you want to see other guys?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“You don’t want to see other guys either?” I teased, wanting to lighten the air. It felt heavy, the tension thick.
“I don’t want to see other women.”
“Okay.”
“So we’re clear?”
“Neither of us wants to see anyone else right now,” I said slowly.
He huffed, and I had a feeling I was missing something.
Exactly what, I wasn’t sure.
I woke up alone, Jesse’s side of the bed cold. It was barely past seven, the sun already bright in the sky. I slid from the bed and peered out the window, hearing the sound of tools being used.
I dressed and made coffee, finding Jesse outside, working on the garden boxes. From the almost completed look, I knew he’d been up for a while. I handed him a cup of coffee, which he took with a grunt and drank, studying his work, not meeting my eyes.
“Have you been at this all night?” I asked.
“No.”
“You must have been up early,” I said lightly, unsure about his demeanor.
“About five.”
“Oh. I missed you when I woke up,” I murmured, hoping he’d smile and say something back.
“Well, you’ll get used to it. I’m gone for the next three nights.”
“Is something wrong, Jesse?” I asked.
“Nope. I just need to get this done. I have other things I planned to do that I put off to make these for you. So it’s going to be a busy day, then I head in.” He finished his coffee. “Miller can come with me so you won’t be bothered looking after him.”
“Miller is never a bother,” I responded, hurt by his words. “But apparently I am. Leave the garden bed, Thorne. I’ll add the liner in. I’m sure I can figure it out.”
He snorted, the sound derisive. “Knowing you, you’ll staple your hand to the wood or something, and I’ll end up coming home to take you to the hospital. I’ll finish it—it’ll be quicker and less of a pain in my ass.”
I blinked at the sudden rush of tears in my eyes.
“If you have other things I’ve kept you from, I apologize. I won’t take up any more of your valuable time.” I turned on my heel and went inside my door, shutting it behind me. I resisted slamming it, but barely.
He didn’t follow.
Angry and hurt, I wiped away the wet around my eyes. I was shocked how much his words stung.
I got busy and ready for the day, refusing to let him know how upset I was. He was obviously in a bad mood and needed a little time to cool off. While I was washing the dishes, I saw him carry his tools into the garage and bring out a couple of totes I had asked him about when we’d parked the car in the garage. I waited as he carried them over, wondering if he’d knock and come in so we could clear the air, but I heard the thump of them being put on the deck, and there was no knock. A moment later, I heard the telltale sound of his back door shutting.
Not long after, he called for Miller, who got off the sofa and obediently went to see his master. An hour later, as I sat at my desk, his truck pulled out of the driveway, and he was gone.
The tears returned with a vengeance, and I let them drip down my cheeks.
I had no idea what had happened.
Or how to fix it.
I tried working, but my mind wasn’t on the tasks at hand. I did what I had to do, then gave up. I went to the kitchen to get something to eat, opening the fridge and stopping. There was still one cupcake left from our picnic.
I sat down, thinking of the perfect day we’d had. Carefree, happy Jesse. How much we enjoyed the drive, the lunch, the spontaneous sex in the brook. The cuddling in the car. Even his sad story hadn’t taken away from the day. I had thought it made us closer. And last night, he admitted he didn’t want to see other women.
But something had happened. Something I missed.
I made some toast and sat at the table, staring into space. After, I rinsed my plate and recalled the totes Jesse had put on the deck.
I opened the door and dragged them in. They were dusty, well-sealed, and marked “Memories.” They weren’t heavy, and I was curious as to their content. Jesse had shrugged when I’d asked him.
“Lou had them in her closet. I had no idea what they were but thought if she’d kept them, they had to be important to her. I have one in the guest room I’ll bring you too. It’s marked ‘Papers and Photos.’ I wanted to keep it dry.”