Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I hit send before I can overthink it, then lean back against the headrest, closing my eyes.
“Please be okay,” I whisper into the quiet car, hoping the universe is listening, and in the mood to help a girl out.
To help love out, because I am already so gone on this man. The thought of losing him is…
Well, it’s not something I’m going to think about because I know better than to tell myself scary stories about things that might not even happen.
At the studio, Mr. Sniffles greets me with his usual enthusiastic snorts as I unlock the door, his little body wiggling with excitement. I scoop him up, burying my face in his warm fur.
“Hey, buddy,” I murmur. “Missed you too. You ready to teach tonight?”
I’m not, really, but by the time the familiar faces appear and the mats are rolled out, I drop back into the zone. I teach three classes straight without glimpsing at my phone, knowing better than to let myself get distracted.
But when I check my cell after the last student has left, there still isn’t a message from Tank.
“I said he could have space if he needed it,” I tell Mr. Sniffles as we head to my car. “He probably needs to decompress.”
My dog shoots me a sad look that seems to say I’m kidding myself, and what I had with Tank was always too good to be true, but I refuse to let his negativity make me doubt my gut. Or my heart.
My heart knows this is real and rare. And I believe Tank knows that, too.
But will that be enough to keep us together if the rest of his world is falling apart? I don’t know, but I definitely need a Monday glass of wine.
Back at my apartment, I pour myself a generous glass of red and sag onto the couch. Not my usual post-yoga ritual, but today has been rougher than expected.
I check my phone again before I pull together a late dinner, but still…nothing.
Nothing, as I chop vegetables with more force than necessary while Mr. Sniffles circles my feet, hoping I’ll be a messy bitch who drops some treats for him. Nothing, as I eat my stir fry, clean up, and take Mr. Sniffles on his last walk of the night.
Nothing as I get ready for an early bedtime, without Tank crowded into my tiny bathroom with me to brush his teeth for the first time in weeks.
The sight of his toothbrush in the cup next to mine is enough to make the ache in my chest worse. We’ve been moving fast, spending almost every night together, but until now there wasn’t a doubt in mind that this speed was just fine. Fantastic, in fact. Why wait or set boundaries that don’t feel authentic, when it’s so natural—so wonderful—to be together?
But now…
I’m just settling under the covers, Mr. Sniffles curled against my side, when my phone lights up.
My heart does the same when I see the message is from Tank.
Sorry for going dark for a while, baby. I’ve been wrestling with some heavy stuff, but you’ve been on my mind all day. Can we talk tomorrow? I could swing by the studio after the six o’clock class, maybe?
I stare at the message, heart racing as I try to read between the lines, to decipher what this means. Has he been wrestling with how to end things with me? Or just processing the shock of the shitty situation he’s ended up in through no fault of his own?
He called me “baby.” That’s a good sign, right?
Or he’s just gearing up to let you down easy…
My fingers hover over the screen, debating my response, but in the end, I decide I have to be true to myself, no matter what’s going on with the man I already love so much. Of course. I’ll see you then. I hit send, then add—Hang in there, Theodore. I meant what I said earlier, I believe in you.
Three dots appear, then disappear. Then appear again. Finally—Thank you. Good Night, Love. Sweet dreams.
I sigh, trying not to read into any of that either, as I set my phone on the nightstand and turn off the light, staring into the darkness. Mr. Sniffles shifts against me, his warm body a comfort, but my mind continues to race.
My heart aches with how much I already care for this complicated, wounded, man. With how much I wish I could shield him from the pain and disappointment of today. How desperately I want to be a safe harbor for him in this storm.
But I can’t force it.
Can’t make him let me in, or choose me if he thinks he needs to choose hockey.
I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, but knowing it probably won’t, not with current state of my rumbling, tumbling monkey mind.