Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
She shoved the thought aside, not wanting to get bogged down in regret again. At least not right now, not with the men there to witness the spiral.
“Since we were babies, really,” Smith said as he undid the ratchet straps around the sofa. “Our parents are friends. I can’t remember a time we didn’t know Harris and Greyson.”
“How’s your foot?” Harris asked, ambling past her and down the steps to help Smith with the straps.
“Getting better. I have to keep the cast on for another couple of weeks to make sure the foot heals properly.”
“Yeah, I get it. You stand a lot.”
“Yes.”
“Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated before adding, “And thank you for helping with this. I’m sorry to be such a bother. I know getting a brand-new sofa for a rental is a little exorbitant.”
Harris chuckled.
“It’s no bother. And you’re talking to the guy who bought a brand-new mattress and a microwave when I stayed next door. If Dickens keeps renting to the likes of us, he’ll have this whole place refurnished without having to spend a cent.”
“Would either of you like something to drink?” she asked, not sure what else to say or do.
“I’m good, thanks,” Harris said.
Smith shook his head at her questioning look.
“Right, well then… Let me know if you need anything. I’ll get out of your way,” she said.
She retreated to the dingy interior of the house. It was stuffy, dusty, and hot inside. The thirty-degree Celsius January heat outside was at least four degrees hotter within the confines of the poorly ventilated house and she proceeded to throw open all the doors and windows in an effort to get some cool air circulating.
She was grateful for the small task, as it kept her busy and made her feel less superfluous.
She downed a couple of aspirin and half a bottle of water after that, very aware of the men’s low voices just outside, as they talked while working.
So at ease with each other.
Friends for nearly the entirety of their lives.
Kenny had only ever had her brothers. They were her constant. Her favorite childhood companions. She couldn’t imagine having a decades-long friend. Someone who knew all of her secrets. Who’d been there through the good and bad times. Not because they had to be, but because they wanted to be.
“Shopping for furniture with her? There something you’re not telling me, Smith?” Harris asked, slanting a furtive look over his shoulder at the open front door through which Kenny had just fled.
“No. I just gave her a ride to Knysna.”
“And now you’re getting rid of the old couch and delivering the new one for her? That seems a little above and beyond, you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you.”
“Maybe you should ask me,” Harris grumbled pointedly. “Or are you forgetting the wreck who crashed on our sofa for a week before getting his shit together enough to shower and change his clothes?”
“You’re the one who told me she seemed different. Just last night you implied that I was being stubborn.”
Smith honestly wasn’t sure what the fuck he was doing. All he knew was that last night, as he’d held her while through her storm of tears, something had shifted in him. And that shift had solidified when they had fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
He was as exhausted as she claimed to be. Tired of the discord and anger. Sick of the hostility.
He didn’t want to be the cause of any more of her tears.
“I meant have a conversation with her, not get cozy enough to pick out drapes and furniture with her! Why does everything have to be so fucking all or nothing with you? Look, all I’m saying is pick a lane, Smith. A nice conservative, conversation-across-a-boardroom-table-with-a-lawyer-by-your-side kind of lane. Because whatever is going on right now is going to irreparably fuck you up. Both of you.
“I—we…Tina and I—we just don’t want to see you hurt again. You were nonverbal for fucking days after leaving her. That was—it wasn’t great, okay? We’d rather you not backslide into that morose fucker again.”
“I understand, Harris. I do. And Kenny and I…” He broke off, as he tried to organize his thoughts. “We don’t work. But the hell of it is, it’s not because we can’t, but because we haven’t even tried. Not really. Does that make sense?”
“Not a fuck,” Harris told him with brutal honesty. “But I think giving yourself the room to figure it out is probably a wise idea.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. That’s what today was about. I feel like I’m on the verge of some understanding. A breakthrough, but that means—”
“Opening yourself up to more pain?”
“No pain. She doesn’t have that power over me.” Harris looked skeptical and Smith couldn’t blame him. He didn’t sound very convincing. Not even to himself. “She doesn’t. Not now. I just want to understand why we didn’t work. I blamed Kenna for all of it. But I don’t think that was fair. And finding answers means spending time with her. Having the conversations we’ve avoided up till now.”