New Hope, Old Grudges Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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He flinched like I hit him.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, I deserve it,” he interrupted. “For what I did to you. For forgetting about it.”

Again, he sounded utterly remorseful and regretful. I wanted to accept his apology. “We’re not talking about that anymore,” I reminded him.

His open mouth told me he wanted to push the issue, but he must’ve thought better of it.

“The fuck who was stupid enough to ensure he was never going to spend the rest of his life with you… Where is he?” he demanded.

I stared at him, confounded by the way he’d chosen to describe Geoff. There was so much passion there, anger. There was the insinuation that spending a lifetime with me was a gift.

“He, um, I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Nor does the US Government, but I’m sure they’d like to. He disappeared when everything started falling apart.”

I remembered it too clearly, though I wished that the trauma of it all had made it hazy. I woke up to an empty bed—not unusual since Geoff routinely went to the gym before work in the mornings. But he didn’t normally take all of his belongings with him.

I hadn’t cried. Hadn’t been upset when it was clear that he’d left me. I hadn’t felt much of anything. A red flag when the man you were supposed to be spending the rest of your life with leaves you and you’re not overly upset. Then again, anything that happened to me in the wake of my father’s death seemed mild. And I’d been second-guessing the entire relationship for a while. He was self-absorbed, he had no empathy for my grief over my father and he’d started commenting in a subtle but pointed way about my weight.

Yeah, an asshole.

He’d done me a favor by leaving so I didn’t have to navigate the awkwardness of ending an engagement. But when I’d arrived at my office, I’d encountered men with cheap suits and badges, questioning me about misappropriated funds.

I realized then that in the wake of my father’s death, there were still things that could strip me apart. Like losing my company. My friends who didn’t answer my calls when I was no longer the jewelry designer to the stars.

Apart from Avery.

She had been there for me. She helped figure out how to pay my staff, how to get me a lawyer to ensure there wasn’t any legal blowback. That had been humiliating, having a bunch of people see how I’d handed over my life’s work to someone so evil and let them take it from me, right under my nose.

“Jesus, Will.” Brody raked a hand over his face. “I had no idea.”

I smiled sadly. “Well, I’m glad to hear the news wasn’t national, at least. It was quite the scandalous story in L.A. for a while. Until I left. And deleted all Google alerts with my name attached.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he deduced.

“Because I had nowhere else to go.” I admitted. “Figures that I’d come back only when my life was in the toilet and not when my family needed me.”

Something moved in his eyes, replacing the fury that had burned there when I was speaking about Geoff.

“The fight that you and your brother had…”

“Was because of me,” I finished for him. “Because I didn’t come home when our father died.” My throat was tight. Thick with grief. With shame. I didn’t care what Brody thought of me. That’s what I told myself, at least. Still, my gaze went downward, and my cheeks warmed.

“I couldn’t face it,” I whispered. “The house without him. This town without him. I had a … complicated relationship with my mother. You already know about the … complicated relationship I had with those in my peer group.”

Brody winced and opened his mouth, likely to apologize again. I waved him off. Who would’ve thought I would’ve been waving off Brody Adams’s apologies? Who would’ve thought I’d be stuck in a cabin with him on Thanksgiving?

Life was exceptionally funny.

Kick you right in the vagina kind of funny.

If anyone would’ve enjoyed this situation, it would’ve been my father.

“My father is the only reason I would’ve come back to this town,” I sighed. “And even when he was alive, I didn’t. I found excuses for every holiday, for every anniversary, for every birthday, every fucking full moon ceremony my mother threw.” I rolled my eyes but felt a pang of guilt for the attitude I’d given my mother pretty much my entire life and the consistent love, patience and acceptance she’d met that attitude with.

“They came to visit in L.A.,” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “When the first luxury department store stocked my jewelry, they both came. My mother wore every single piece I’d ever designed, even the stuff that I’d thought I’d thrown away as ‘mistakes’ when I was still learning.”


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