Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
On a whim, I opened it to find the entire box still full.
I gritted my teeth and walked out the door anyway, angry all over again for things we could’ve had but now never would.
Sixteen
Once I see that you can’t spell, I lose all interest. What do you mean, you wont me?
—Silver’s secret thoughts
SILVER
I was on top of the world.
I’d singlehandedly fixed all of the hospital’s problems today by being a digital superhero and clearing the entire system of viruses.
I’d been praised a hero—though that was a bit of a stretch—and the IT team had gotten me a cookie cake for figuring it out.
I had a box of iced cookie perfection in one hand, and my bag in the other, when the call came in.
I grinned like a lunatic when my sister’s name flashed across my desk phone’s screen.
I didn’t wait to answer it.
I punched the button for the ringing line and placed the phone to my ear. “Aella.”
“Hey,” she hesitated. “Um, girl, what did you do to Webber?”
I frowned. “What do you mean what did I do?”
“He’s pissed as hell,” she whispered. “We’re at the clubhouse barbequing, and someone asked about you, and he shut them down so freakin’ fast that it was a bit scary.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I let my voice raise as I passed one of my favorite coffee shops, Hughey’s.
“Something happened,” she murmured. “He’s been such an asshole this entire barbeque. Try calling him and finding out. Maybe you’re unintentionally ignoring him.”
I snorted. “This is not on me.”
Then I’d told her about what had happened, ending with, “He never came over. Never called to apologize. Never reached out at all. Not even a text message.”
She blew out a breath. “Come over and fix this then.”
The problem with me going anywhere was…I was exhausted.
I didn’t think that I could drive for the hour it would take me to get to the clubhouse even if I wanted to.
“I can’t,” I admitted. “I didn’t sleep at all last night because I was thinking about Webber. And when I finally did get to snooze a little bit, work called me in. And I stayed well past my shift, and I’m now at over thirty hours with only about an hour of dozing shut-eye. I am exhausted.”
Too tired to fight it out with Webber, too.
But I would text him and ask him to call me.
Maybe that’d be my olive branch.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and borrowed one of the floor cell phones and did just that.
Me:
Hey, do you mind calling me? It’s Silver.
I put the phone back to my ear and reported, “I just texted him.”
Aella cursed. “He read it and then shoved the phone back into his pocket without replying.”
My stomach sank.
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” I admitted. “We were seriously good. He invited me over to his place. I was getting the pizza. The full pizza is still on my counter.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask around,” Aella offered.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache started to form.
“Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Thanks, Sissy.”
“Love you, Silver,” she murmured, then hung up without waiting for my reply.
Not that she needed it.
She knew how much I loved her.
I walked up to my apartment, foregoing the elevators, and let myself in.
My entire stomach sank when I closed the door and spotted the white paper towel with angry letters slashed across it.
I slid the lock home and walked to the paper.
I then read Webber’s note and then reread it.
Well, that was my answer, wasn’t it?
I picked it up, and the absorbent material soaked my tears up.
Just when I was about to lose it completely, feeling the life that I’d wanted start to slowly slip away, there was a knock at the door.
A heavy and familiar one, letting me know exactly who was on the other side.
I opened the door to find my father standing on the other side.
He saw the note and the set of keys that had a particular keychain on them that belonged to the man standing in front of me, and he smiled.
It took me a few seconds to comprehend the smug look on his face, but I knew exactly what—and who—had been responsible for Webber and me having issues in half a breath.
“You did this, didn’t you?” I asked.
Webber had been fine yesterday. More than fine.
He’d been perfect.
And then we’d split up, and nothing.
Now, my father shows up at my door with a smile on his face that practically screamed ‘I won’ and I just knew.
It didn’t absolve what Webber had done—Jesus Christ, communication was important. Had he just told me that he needed time, that my dad was causing trouble, I’d have backed off. Let him figure it out.
But he hadn’t given me that option.
He’d gone straight for breaking my heart without an explanation, and that wasn’t something I could just forgive.