Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Are you sure about that?” Byron sent me a half smile. “Because you seemed pretty happy to me.”
“I was, but what the fuck was I doing with my life? When I went to stay with Declan because of the fire, it was just supposed to be a few days while I found a new apartment.” I turned on the couch with a bounce to face him, bringing my right leg up to rest on the cushion. “Did you know that I’ve lived alone since I graduated from college? I’ve got three siblings and buckets of cousins. Growing up in that kind of household meant there was no such thing as privacy or peace and quiet. I moved out on my own and swore that I would never rush to live with someone else. I’d revel in having my space. But Molly died and my apartment went up in flames, and suddenly I didn’t want to leave Declan’s. Screw independence! And it wasn’t because Declan lives in a crazy, beautiful house he’s letting me paint, or that there are servants to clean up after me, or that I never have to cook. I felt…”
“Safe,” Byron replied.
I deflated in an instant. “Yes.”
“Your entire world was blowing up,” Byron continued. “You’d finished your temp job and didn’t have new income lined up to suddenly care for this baby you didn’t plan for. And the one safe place you had in the world burned to the ground. Of course, you needed somewhere safe to heal.”
“But I never tried to leave after healing. And I definitely shouldn’t have dated him while I was such a damn mess.”
“Have you considered that maybe you haven’t healed yet?”
For a moment, I could only blink at Byron. What was he talking about? How could I have not healed yet? It had been two months since Molly died…
Wait. Just two months?
It had to have been longer than that. Like six months. A year. It felt like forever since I’d last seen Molly.
But it hadn’t. That day I’d gotten the call…I’d still been working at Courtland, which wasn’t that long ago. We’d planned to go out soon. To celebrate Joy turning six months old and to give Molly a well-earned adult break.
A lump formed in my throat, and it was suddenly hard to swallow. My eyes burned, and I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. Not that I knew what I was shaking my head about.
“You didn’t get the chance to mourn your friend,” Byron said, his voice as soft and gentle as a ball of cotton. “I have to imagine that you were close if you agreed to be the father of her child.”
“Childhood friends.” My voice was like I was gargling gravel, and I had to clear my throat. “We…we grew up together. Decided to go to the same college on the other side of the country so we could be more independent. She was the first person I came out to, and it scared me more than when I told my parents. Because…she was my everything.” My voice cracked. The tears broke free of the crumbling dam holding them back. I fiercely wiped them away and dragged in a ragged breath, but that only seemed to break more of the defenses that had been holding me together for these past two months.
Byron jumped to his feet and darted through the apartment. I couldn’t follow him or ask what he wanted. I couldn’t even see anything anymore. He was a watery blur as my stream of tears turned into sobs.
A moment later, I felt tissues pressed into my hand. The cushion closest to me sank, and Byron’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I mopped up my face, but it did no good as all the emotions I’d bundled up and packed away broke free, stealing the air from my lungs. It felt like I was hearing the news of her death for the first time. Everything inside me was jagged edges and fractures. I would never pull myself together again because there were parts of me that were missing now.
As Byron pulled me over so that I was leaning on him, his arm around my shoulder, my evil brain whimpered that it wished these arms belonged to Declan. Byron was a good friend, but my heart wanted Declan holding me. My immovable mountain would have been able to fix this.
But there was nothing to fix. Molly was gone.
My life was changed forever, and not because I was now raising the baby she’d so desperately wanted, but because I’d never have another conversation with her. There were no more chances for us to have our late-night chats about work and life. No more ice cream and spilled tea sessions where I told her about my sex life with Declan, and she admonished me to ask the man out on a date. She would never get the chance to meet Declan. And thus, she’d never have the chance to order me to marry that man immediately to save him from a dreary, boring life.