Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Fuck.”
“Sarah says that’s not true…that she met Frank later. But I felt her pulling away, shutting down, and slowly exiting our marriage. You’ve been through it too. The eye contact goes, the jokes never land anymore, the bed is cold. It was awful, and I didn’t know why. According to Sarah, we didn’t want the same things anymore. She wanted a bigger life than the one we had in Fallbrook, a bigger house, more time to travel, and she thought I worked too much. I could have argued that you don’t get the bigger life without working for it, but…I knew it was something else. Or someone else.”
“That really fucking sucks,” he growled.
“It did. But it’s like you told me a few months ago…you can’t make someone stay if they don’t want to. The irony is that she still lives in the house we bought together in the town where I was born.”
“That’s messed up.”
I smiled softly, amused and pleased by his fierce stance. “Yeah, but I’m happier on my own.”
Actually…I was happier with Silas, but I wasn’t ready to go there, and we weren’t talking about us.
“You have Ivy and Chase too.”
“I do.”
Never let it be said that Silas Anderson wasn’t an intuitive man. He must have seen something in my expression in the dark that made him twist in his seat, his brow furrowed and body vibrating with barely checked angst.
“What’s going on? Your face is doing something weird.”
“That’s just my face,” I deadpanned.
“Bullshit.”
I met his gaze and lost whatever battle raged inside me. I hadn’t confided in Reg or Hank or…anyone about Sarah’s impending move or what I was thinking of doing about it. This was too important. I felt it too deeply. And I’d gotten in the habit of guarding fragile pieces. Or maybe I was just in the habit of dealing with hard shit on my own.
But maybe tonight, I didn’t have to.
“Sarah and Frank are planning to move. He’s applied to jobs with his company as far away as San Diego and as close as Pinecrest. But maybe Chicago or Burlington. The kids don’t know. Nothing’s definitive yet, and she’d rather not upset them till she has a plan in place.”
Silas’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Fuck.”
I sighed heavily. “Yeah. Fuck. I’ve been sitting on this for months, worrying myself sick. It’s been hanging over my head like a dark cloud, and I’m the only who sees it.”
Silas smacked my arm and glowered. “Jesus, asshole. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You have your own worries, and I didn’t want to burden you with—”
“Fuck that. Burden me. Tell me everything.”
I didn’t know more than I’d already shared, but I unloaded the stress and strain of the past few months like sheets of metal from a rusty suit of armor.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m being selfish. A good shrink would easily assess my abandonment issues, and they wouldn’t be wrong. My dad died, my wife left me for another man, and now she wants to take the kids. Christ. But no one wants to get left behind, right?”
“For fuck’s sake. Dude. You gotta play offense.” Silas jumped to his feet and paced, gesticulating wildly as he worked himself up. “Don’t let her dictate something this important. You get a say too. You’re not some terrible deadbeat father. You’re the best dad in the whole fucking world. No one loves those kids like you. No one. This is their home, you’re their dad, and you have rights, and—do you want me to talk to her?”
I chuckled, charmed by Silas’s passionate exuberance. I left my beer on the arm of the Adirondack chair and went to him, cradling his face for a beat, then kissing him senseless.
“Thank you.”
He bit his swollen bottom lip. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You listened. That’s enough.”
Silas growled. “No, it’s not. It’s—”
“Hey, relax. I’ve had time to give this some serious thought, and I have a plan.”
“Good. Lawyer up. If you need someone tough, I can probably get a name for you. Alli’s guy almost took me to the cleaners. Thankfully, she told him to fuck off before I got screwed.”
“No, I have a lawyer, but I don’t want it to get ugly.”
He frowned. “You’re gonna let them go?”
“No, no. I want full custody. I want my house to be home base,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Oh. Okay. That’s…good. Do you think…”
“I have a shot?” I finished for him. “Maybe. We’ll see. It could seem like a complication or a solution depending on how you look at it. We’re finalizing funding to build retail storefronts—Wood Hollow’s answer to Home Depot. We’ll sell treated wood for flooring, doors, paneling, fences, and so on. We don’t like commercial conglomerates in these parts, but we need the products we’re selling to big companies. So why not cut out the middleman and do it ourselves? Anyway…if we get the funding, and we should—I’m going to be busier than I already am. Sure, my kids are my priority, but I’m not a stay-at-home dad.”