Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I was letting the kids go first.”
Darling follows her into the room, his tail swishing when he sees me.
“There he is,” I say, putting my hand out. “Come get your head scratches, big guy.”
He loves having his head, ears and back scratched and rubbed. When Mara and I were taking care of him, she’d absently rub his back for a solid hour at a time, scrolling her phone with the other hand.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask Suki.
“Harry had to work, Lainey and Bash will be here later, and I don’t know about Mara. She bought some cookies from someone at the courthouse who has a side business, and she was planning to bring them. But she texted and said she didn’t know if she would make it.”
I feel a twinge of disappointment. We had a nice time at the party, and I left for a quick road trip the morning after. More than once, I thought about her smile when I changed into the sweater-vest she got me. Her sudden grin was bright and warm and so damn happy, and it was directed entirely at me.
I’ve seen her smile that way at Suki before. But when Mara looks at me, her shoulders usually slump with disappointment. I get glares and eye rolls. Sarcastic laughter. I liked her sincere, light expression when I stepped out of my car, where I changed into the vest.
We drove separately to the party, so we just said a quick goodbye at the end. Anson had already left, so there was no need to fake a kiss.
I was hoping to see her tonight. There’s one more team holiday event I’ll need her to be my date to, and then the New Year’s Eve thing. I’ll have to text her the dates and times.
Lainey and Bash come, and after I say hi to them, I make myself a plate of bread, meat, veggies and fondue. About to head back to the dining room, I hear someone come in the door that leads from the garage into the kitchen.
It’s Mara. Her eyes are red, the skin around them puffy, and she’s holding a white box in her hands. She puts a finger to her lips and whispers softly.
“I just want to drop these sugar cookies off and go.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She presses her lips together, her expression pained. “Horrible day at work. It was either stay home and eat this entire box myself or drop them off. I can’t people right now.”
Everyone has bad days at work. When I get home from road trips, I usually can’t wait to get home to my quiet house. My anxiety can be exhausting, and time alone helps me get out of my own head.
I should let Mara slip out and go home to recharge, but something makes me set my plate down.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“I’ll walk you out,” I offer.
“You don’t have to.”
I ignore her, opening the door to the garage. She sighs heavily, hikes the strap of her bag over her shoulder, and walks out the door.
“I’m okay, really.” She turns to me once I’ve closed the door. “I just don’t want to have to explain why I look like hell. I want to crawl into bed and be alone.”
“You sure?” I cross my arms over my chest, concerned. “I could hang out and watch a show with you. I won’t talk.”
She shakes her head, and my worry grows deeper. I’ve never seen Mara like this. Everything about her expression says she’s defeated.
“It’s just work?” I ask.
“Yeah. I fucked up. I’m sure you’d love to hear all about it.” Her tone is biting, and she cringes as soon as the words are out of her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just want to rage, and that’s why I shouldn’t be around anyone right now.”
Carter’s giant garage is a weird place to be having this conversation. His big SUV and Suki’s smaller one are parked inside the space, but there’s still lots of open room.
“You can rage at me,” I say. “I can take it.”
“Don’t, Leo,” she snaps. “Not right now.”
“Let it out. It’s not good to hold everything in.”
She sneers at me. “Are you my shrink now? I told you to leave me alone, so leave me the fuck alone.”
I’d usually respect that request, but somehow I know if I don’t push her, Mara will go home and marinate in her feelings of failure. Probably because I do it myself. Anxiety and depression can turn a tiny snowball into an avalanche.
“Did you get fired?” I ask her.
“No, I didn’t get fired. I’m just fucking hungry and exhausted and completely fucking—” She looks away, unable to finish. “I can’t do this, Leo.”
I can’t get over how absolutely broken she looks. It’s so unlike her—Mara is usually proud and steely, her resolve never showing so much as a crack.