Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
He eases back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching my face like he might find the truth of what I’m not saying. “You good now?”
I nod, even though my chest aches with the lie. “I’m good.” The words come out automatically. A reflex I’ve practiced my whole life.
“Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s go get your family so that we can go home.”
Home.
The word hits me harder than anything else tonight. My throat tightens, and for a second, I’m terrified I won’t be able to hold it in. I wanted him to be my home. I had hoped that he would be a place where I could finally rest, finally belong. But wanting something doesn’t make it real, and I know better than to let myself believe in something that fragile.
So, I swallow the feeling down, press it deep where it can’t break me, and lead him back to Carrie’s room. The girls smile when they see us, chattering away about how the nurse took their vitals. Carrie smiles at her daughters, and again, an ache for something I’ll never have sits heavy inside my chest.
I’ll never have it because I know that I’ll never love another man the way I love Foster. I won’t settle, just as I won’t let him settle… with me. It’s the vicious truth of the heart, but it’s the truth all the same.
Nearly an hour later, Foster is pulling Carrie and Nick’s family van into the garage, and Nick rushes out of the house to greet us. He called Carrie back ten minutes ago, and she assured him she was fine and would meet us at the house.
Thankfully, the girls chattered all the way home, so there was no awkward silence. They grilled Foster with questions from whether he played Barbies, to whether girls could play football. He answered yes to the latter, saying he had never done it, but he was willing to do the first. He was patient with them, kind, and I know he’s going to be a great father, if that opportunity ever presents itself to him.
“Fuck,” Nick mutters. The girls gasp, but he ignores them as he helps Carrie out of the back of the van and pulls her into his arms. Foster and I remain in our seats, giving them time, and once they start to help the girls from their seats, we climb out.
“Thanks, man,” Nick says, offering his hand to Foster. “Nick,” he adds.
“Foster. No thanks necessary.”
“Daddy, we gots to see the nurses, and they said we all better,” Daisy tells Nick.
He chuckles. “That’s good to hear, sweetheart. Let’s go in so Mommy can rest.”
“I’m fine,” Carrie assures him.
“I know, but Nick’s right. You need to rest,” I tell Carrie, moving in to give her a side hug, because Nick hasn’t let her go since helping the girls from the van. He immediately went back to her, wrapping her in his arms. “We’re going to let you go.”
“The cupcakes!” Summer cries.
“Cupcakes?” Nick asks.
“It’s Foster’s birthday today. We made cupcakes,” I explain.
“Oh, well, Daddy can help you finish them. Maybe Foster and Aunt Eden can come by tomorrow or later today and pick them up,” Nick suggests.
“Foster, will that make you sad?” Summer asks.
He kneels in front of her. “No, sweetie, that won’t make me sad. The best part of my birthday was making cupcakes with the three of you. With my job, I don’t get to eat sweets very often, so you and your sister can have them.”
“Not even on your birthday?” Summer’s eyes widen, and we all chuckle.
“Sometimes.” He winks.
“Come back and have one,” Summer insists.
“We’ll come back,” he assures her. “Let’s give Mommy a few hours to rest, and then we’ll stop back by.” Foster stands back to his full height. “We’ll bring dinner with us, give you both a break from cooking.”
My heart.
This man.
Even knowing where Violet is, knowing she’s back in his life, he’s still being nice to my family. I want to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep, but he’s never broken a promise. I know he’ll do what he says, which means I have to hold it together a little longer. I can’t break apart yet.
The drive back to Foster’s condo is quiet. He doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Instead, I hold on to his hand, as if it’s my lifeline, and tell myself I can do this. I can pretend I’m not falling to pieces for a few more hours.
In the garage, he meets me at the door, laces our fingers together, and leads me into the house. He doesn’t stop until we’re in the living room, and he pulls me onto his lap. His breathing is accelerated. He’s nervous.
This is it. He’s going to end things between us.
“I saw Violet at the hospital.” He pauses, waiting for me to speak or to react, but I do neither, because I’m barely holding on. “She works there. Been there for a while,” he explains. Another pause, and I close my eyes, just listening, waiting for the words to hit me.