Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Rachel laughed quietly. “Good.”
We hung up, and instantly I felt the tension drop slightly.
It was hard talking to Rachel these days. Even when the conversations weren’t bad, it still always felt like a tense business conversation, not anything remotely comfortable.
I’d almost let my temper get the best of me, too.
And I knew that part of the reason for my short temper was that I hadn’t heard from Luke in a few days. Not since I’d introduced my kids to him.
The sudden lack of Luke made me realize what a fixture he had become in my daily life. We usually talked almost every day now, whether it was a few silly texts, pictures of plants, a phone call about a DIY question, or him coming over to help with more backyard projects.
So when I didn’t hear a peep from him for three days after meeting the kids, I suddenly noticed his absence.
And I hated it.
I’d successfully distracted myself with work projects during the day, spending time with the kids, and a bunch of crosswords and Sudoku at night in bed. But when I turned out the lights, my mind raced with a million possibilities.
Maybe it had been too much for him. Maybe he’d loved the kids, but realized the reality of having kids around wasn’t something he was down with. Maybe it stifled his freedom.
It could have been anything.
After Rachel picked up the kids, I did something I hadn’t done in over a decade. I set up a bath for myself in the nice jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom. I even went to the storage closet in the hall, unearthing a few tealight candles and dropping them around the tub, lighting them and trying to make a mood.
People did this. “Self-care.” It was supposed to be good for me, maybe even help clear my mind. If the crosswords and Sudoku weren’t working, I had to try something.
It definitely didn’t look like a spa, but it was warm, bubbly, and inviting.
I lasted about three minutes in the tub before I reached over, patted my hands dry with a towel, and grabbed my phone.
I logged into the BackOutThere app. Even if things in my real life felt overwhelming, the app was easy. Safe. And I really did like Phlox, even though I barely knew him. I hadn’t been on the app in days, so I was sure I’d have plenty of unread messages.
But when I logged in, my inbox was empty. I furrowed my brow, navigating to the open group chat portion, making sure the app was working. But it was working fine. The group chat was flowing as usual.
I didn’t have a single message from Phlox, though.
Why the fuck did that feel so bad?
My heart sank like a fucking stone. It didn’t make sense. I felt more alone in this moment than I had even right after finalizing the divorce. Shouldn’t it have been the opposite? I should have been getting better as time went on, not sinking back into loneliness.
But as I sat in the tub, staring over at the beautiful little flickering candle flames, I felt empty. Truly alone.
I tapped out a message to Phlox.
>>LittleBit: You finally find love out there in the real world? You don’t have to answer this, if so. Hell, maybe you’ll never even see it.
>>LittleBit: I’ve been doing a lot of things that scare me, Phlox. But right now it all feels like too much.
>>LittleBit: Christ, I sound like a whiner. I promise I’m a lot more fun in person.
>>LittleBit: Well, I’ll miss you, if you are gone.
I already regretted sending the messages, knowing they probably sounded desperate.
I never should have broken my rules. Any of them. I clearly wasn’t ready for this. For any of it. Trying to forge connections seemed impossible.
The bath did nothing for my mood, but it at least relaxed my body. After I got out I patted myself dry, tossed on a soft robe I’d barely used before, and lay down at the edge of my bed just to take a minute before I went back into the kitchen and cleaned up.
I woke to the sound of my phone vibrating on the bed next to me. I blinked my eyes open, feeling groggy and strange as I checked the time on the phone.
10:21 p.m. I’d passed out on my bed in this robe hours ago, and inadvertently taken a nap.
“Shit,” I muttered, seeing the missed call.
It was from Luke.
I sat up, running my hands through my hair and returning the call.
“Cam?” he asked.
God, it felt good to hear his voice. Too good. I knew I was becoming addicted to it, actually.
“Hey,” I said, clearing my throat.
“Shit, I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Not at all,” I said. “I mean, yes, technically, but it’s my fault for falling asleep at, like, 6:45 at night.”