Bittersweet – The Calvettis of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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“We’ve only been together a few weeks. He has a long history with Brooklyn.” I dart my gaze up to meet his. “Be honest, Joel. Give it to me straight. Do you really think I still stand a chance with him?”

“Honestly?”

I nod.

“I’d say the odds are fifty-fifty.”

Pushing to my feet, I take a deep, measured breath. “Get the wine and a big glass.”

Chapter 48

Afton

I look down at the screen of my phone again.

I’ve been staring at the same text message since it arrived over an hour ago.

Luke: I need to talk to you about something important. Please respond when you can.

I haven’t replied since I have no idea what to say.

“Unless you have a hidden superpower, you can’t take a cookbook worthy photo by staring at your phone’s screen.”

I stick out my tongue at my brother-in-law.

“Mature, Afton.” He shakes a finger at me. “Don’t pull that shit around the baby. Well, at least not when Nelson is looking. I don’t care if the little dude learns how to stick out his tongue at his auntie.”

I smile. “I’ll teach him all good things.”

“I hope to hell that’s not true.” He slices into a perfectly ripe red apple. “I want him to be edgy like me.”

I glance at the black trousers and white and black striped shirt he’s wearing. “You’re edgy?”

“Off to hell you go,” he says with a flick of his wrist.

I look at my phone again. “I’m already there.”

Marching around my kitchen island, he drops his gaze to the text message. “Something important could be anything. It may have nothing to do with Brooklyn.”

“Joel.”

“Afton,” he says my name in the same tone I said his. “Call him. Talk to him. It’s been two fucking days.”

Grabbing an orange from the wicker basket on my counter, I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he insists. “It’s like getting out of a hot shower in a cold room. You just do it, and it’s never quite as bad as you think it is.”

“Is that another quote from your TV role?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “That’s what I tell myself every morning when I realize I left the bathroom window open all night.”

I get to work slicing the orange. “If I call him, I have to let the dream go.”

“The dream of a life with him?”

I nod. “He loves Brooklyn’s son so much. He told me he’d do anything to spend time with him.”

“Anything and marrying someone you don’t love isn’t the same thing,” he points out.

“They might be for him.”

He skims a hand over his forehead. “I can’t predict how this is going to turn out, but I do know that for the first time in your life, you’re in love, and you can’t give up on that yet.”

I drop my attention back to the orange.

He points at my phone. “At least he’s reaching out. He didn’t ghost you.”

“No.” I bite my bottom lip. “He didn’t ghost me. He secretly met up with his ex to discuss their upcoming happy ever after when he was supposed to be at work.”

“Maybe he’ll explain all of that to you when you call him.”

“Or maybe he’ll tell me I was hearing things,” I bite out the words as if they are responsible for all the pain I’m in.

He moves to hug me from behind. “Either way, you won’t know until you text him back, so do it.”

“I will,” I assure him as I slice the knife through the orange. “As soon as I’m ready.”

***

Luke: We really need to talk. It’s important.

I read the text message that followed Luke’s attempt to call me. Obviously, I didn’t pick up.

I’m still unsure what I want to say to him and more uncertain if I want to hear what he’s going to say to me.

I’m living in a frozen state where we still have a connection.

He hasn’t told me that he’s getting back together with Brooklyn, but I know it’s coming.

I can’t avoid him forever, but I need one more day to gather my thoughts and courage so that when he breaks up with me, I can handle it with some measure of grace. I’m determined to be strong in the face of the greatest heartbreak I’ll ever experience.

I knock on the door of my parents’ penthouse. I’m not here to surprise them. My mom asked me to come over as soon as I was done work for the day.

Today, Joel and I spent the day at a bakery in the West Village that offers homemade loaves of bread and croissants.

The owner was a treat, and I told her that I’d be spreading the word around town about her upcoming business. I got a hug and a loaf of cornbread.

Joel snagged it, claiming it was his all-time favorite.

We parted at the subway since he needed to rush home to wait for a delivery.


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