Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
When it feels like the walls are closing in, I pad down the stairs, turn off the alarm, and head out the back door. The moment the salty air hits my senses, I release a shaky breath.
There’s just something about the beach that calms me.
I don’t know what time it is, but the moon is high in the sky, and the waves are crashing against the sand. There’s nobody around. It’s just me and the ocean.
It’s chilly outside, but I welcome the coolness. When my panic attacks hit, the increase in my blood pressure causes me to become overheated and sweat.
I step to where the water meets the sand and have a seat, allowing my toes to dig into the wet sand. And then I inhale another calming breath.
As the waves roll in and out, I can’t help but think about the nightmare I just had.
Wanting to be a teacher was only one of the jobs I dreamed of. Yet, when I was allowed to go to college, I chose to major in accounting. According to Andrey, it didn’t matter what my major was because my only future involved marrying Anthony. But I picked accounting, hoping that maybe, one day, Andrey would see that I was more than a bargaining chip. I was young and naive, and I thought if he saw my worth, he would view me as an equal.
My thoughts go back to conversations with Kane …
“Didn’t you go to college?”
“… you’re bored with your life.”
He isn’t wrong. I might not have wanted to major in accounting, but I still had hopes and dreams. And what have I done to make them come true?
I wanted to fall in love and get married and have a family, and that’s out of the question, thanks to Kane. But there’s more to life than that.
I’ve been back in Harbor Point for almost a year, and what do I have to show for it?
Tons of clothes and shoes and a Pilates membership?
The waves roll back in, bringing more shells with it. I spot a pretty pink one, but when I reach for it, my eyes go to my engagement ring, and a choked sob bubbles out, the devastation at the way my life is unraveling too much to hold in any longer.
I yank the ring off my finger, and I consider throwing it into the ocean when a shadow appears, making me jump to my feet.
“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” Kane says, sounding like he gives a shit about my well-being.
“What’s the worst that will happen?” I scoff, trying to hide my fragile state from him. “I’m taken and forced into a marriage with someone I despise?” I laugh humorlessly. “Oh, wait. That already happened.”
Since I don’t want to talk to him about why I’m out here, I walk back up to the house with him following. Then I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower to rinse the sweat and saltwater and raw emotions off me.
Only when I hear Kane softly snoring through the door do I leave the bathroom and climb back into bed. But between my nightmare and my thoughts on the beach, I can’t sleep, so instead, I grab my phone off the nightstand and unlock it.
I pull up Google and type, What’s involved in owning a Pilates studio?
I might not be able to marry for love, and I’ll probably never be a mother like I dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have something for myself.
“Good morning, Brielle. What can I get you?” the perky barista at Lattes and Words asks.
I glance up at the specials board and huff when I see that they’re out of almond milk.
Guess oat milk it is.
“I’ll take an oat milk honey latte and an almond muffin, please.”
“Sure thing.” She inputs it into the computer, and the total pops up.
I reach for my phone, but it’s not in my leggings pocket, like it usually is.
I’m patting the sides of my thighs, trying to locate it so I can pay since I never bring my wallet with me to the Pilates studio, when Nicole appears from out of nowhere, shrieking, “Oh my God!” She grabs my left hand. “You’re engaged? How did I talk to you several times this weekend and you forgot to mention that?” She moves my fingers up and down and laughs. “How do you even lift your hand? It’s so heavy.”
I yank my hand back with a groan. “Ugh, stop. It’s ostentatious and nothing like one I would’ve picked out. Men who buy rings this size”—I lift my hand to emphasize my point—“have something to prove.”
Nicole’s eyes go big, and she covers her mouth, stifling what I assume is a laugh. When I look at her in confusion, she nods over my shoulder, and I slowly turn around, coming face-to-face with Kane.