Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Would you be shocked if I said it involves Seamus?”
“Not in the least. Come on, tell me about it.”
She leads me up front. It’s ten minutes before we close the shop for lunch, and no guests are around. “I don’t even know where to begin if I’m honest. He’s been distant lately. Some stuff happened a few days ago—”
“Some stuff?” Kira interrupts. “That’s pretty vague.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but we have to leave it there.”
“Family stuff.” She sighs and gives me a knowing look. “I get it.”
“Right, so family stuff happens, and now he’s being weird and distant. Whenever I try to bring it up, he acts like it’s not a big deal. But he’s been sleeping in the guest room and staying out all night.”
“You think he’s up to something?”
“What?” I pull back and frown. “You mean, cheating on me?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one who said he’s staying out all night.”
My stomach sours at the thought. “No, honestly, I don’t think that’s it.” I wish I could explain the Molchanie stuff, but Kira’s only dimly aware of Bratva stuff. It’s safer if I don’t tell her more. “It’s more like something happened and now he’s just… done with me.”
She frowns, thinking hard. “That’s not terrible though, is it?”
I stare at her, throat tightening. I don’t know why that makes me want to cry. I swallow against it. “We were just starting to find a rhythm. We were making a routine… falling into a habit…”
“You were starting to like him.”
“Maybe?”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a schedule. Which means you were falling deeply in love.”
“I don’t really like that characterization.”
“But when all this started, you didn’t want any of that, remember? You would’ve been happy to have a distant husband.”
“I know you’re right, but things changed. He’s been sleeping in the guest room for three nights.”
Kira’s smile is sad. She leans in and hugs me. “You miss your hubby.”
“He’d straight up vomit if he heard you call him that.”
“And yet here we are. Lucky he’s not around.” She sits back, lips pressed flat, and shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you can do. If you really want to fix things, you probably have to figure out what happened first.”
“He won’t talk.”
“Make him then.”
“Have you met Seamus? The big, scary mafia guy?”
“I didn’t say torture him. I mean, not physically anyway.”
“I’m not sure my womanly wiles will do much.”
“Get creative. Just saying, if you’re unhappy, you can’t go on like this forever. Find a way to fix it.
I’m thinking about Kira’s advice as I walk to a nearby deli for lunch. Normally, she and I eat together, but I need some time to think.
She’s right, but it’s not that simple. If I want to fix things with Seamus, I need to understand what went down at that meeting. Clearly, something bad happened because he began acting weird after he talked with Molchanie, and he still won’t tell me what they said to each other.
Only it’s not that simple. And maybe it’s better this way.
During the day, when I haven’t seen him for a few hours, I can pretend he doesn’t matter. Like I don’t really care where he sleeps. He’s just some guy I married. He’s a name on a piece of paper. We don’t have a real relationship, and we never have to.
But at night, when he comes home and I see him in my apartment, all that unravels. I want him in my bed so bad it’s like a hole in my guts. I can’t go more than a few minutes without thinking about him. I’m cold at night because he’s not there to make me warm.
I don’t even know when this happened.
Sometime in the odd moments between kissing him the first time and losing him that night he went to the meeting.
It happened so gradually I didn’t even notice until it was gone.
I’m so busy thinking about Seamus that I nearly don’t notice when his brother almost hits me with a car.
I walk out into traffic, distracted, not realizing the light has changed, which is basically the most dangerous thing you can do in New York. An SUV slams on its brakes, coming to a screeching stop inches from my legs. I’m mortified and stunned, especially when I realize it’s Finn staring at me over the wheel, grinning sheepishly.
We meet each other’s gaze across the intersection. I don’t move to get out of his way even though people are staring. A car nearby honks.
Slowly, I approach the passenger side door and yank it open.
“Why are you trying to run me over, Finn?”
He shrinks back nervously. “That was an accident, I swear. You threw yourself in front of me. I thought you were trying to get hit.”
“You’re avoiding the question. What are you doing here?”
He glances in the rearview. A car’s laying on its horn. “Get in and we’ll talk, okay?”