Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but you were also pregnant with Dad’s baby, and he went into it knowing about me. I’m pregnant with twins by another man. He deserves to have babies of his own, and at my age, I have no idea if I’ll have more kids. So I what, string him along and force him to take on two babies who aren’t his? No, I won’t do it.”
Mom’s lips purse together. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit, nor do I think you understand how unconditional love works. What if the roles were reversed, and he found out he was expecting a baby who wasn’t yours? Would you want him to break up with you?”
“It’s not the same thing. I could still get pregnant, and Declan isn’t the kind of person to just sleep around with any woman. He takes relationships seriously. He wouldn’t sleep with another woman and turn around and be with me a few weeks later.” Pulling stunts like that and messing everything up is more my style.
“It’s for the best,” I tell her, sniffling. “He shouldn’t be drawn into my shit show of a life. It’s not like I deserved a man like him anyway. Fate has a way of reminding us where we belong in this world, and I don’t belong with a man like Declan.”
“Oh, stop with the self-deprecation,” Mom chides. “You’re hormonal, and your emotions are all over the place. Please don’t make any rash decisions until you’ve thought this all through.”
“There’s nothing to think through. I’m not putting Declan in that position. He’s a good guy and would no doubt step up, but I’m not going to let him do that.”
“And where does Kyle fit in?”
“I won’t be with someone just for the sake of the kids. Kyle deserves to be happy and in a marriage for love. I don’t feel that way about him. I’ll let him know I’m pregnant, and if he wants to be in the babies’ lives, we’ll figure it out.”
Mom sighs. “Maybe you should move home.”
“Mom, I love you, but there’s no way I’m living with you and Dad again.” I lean over and kiss her cheek. “I have the money and means to live on my own. But I would like to find a bigger place, and I’ll need to look for help with the babies. I was supposed to go on tour for the new album, but—”
“Breathe. You have plenty of time. Take a deep breath.”
“You’re right,” I tell her as items mentally get added to my list of things I need to do… starting with breaking up with Declan.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, a text comes through from the man himself: Dinner tonight at my place. Six o’clock.
My heart drops out of my chest and into my gut. Tonight… Tonight, I’m going to have to break both his and my heart. I’ll see you then.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DECLAN
Tulips—Kendall’s favorite—check.
Korean BBQ—her favorite—check.
Crème brûlée for dessert—also her favorite—check.
I reach into my pocket and open the box for the dozenth time…
Engagement ring—check.
When I had Braxton go with me to pick out the ring, I looked at hundreds, but only one caught my eye. It’s an eight-carat oval-cut diamond with a micro-pavé band. It’s simple and classic yet elegant, and when I saw it, I knew it was the one—the ring that will sit on Kendall’s finger for the rest of our lives.
I light the candles and dim the lights and am about to text Kendall to see if she’s on her way since it’s a few minutes past six when the alarm indicating she’s here sounds.
She walks through the door, dressed casually yet beautifully in a flowy dress. She’s been down about gaining some weight recently since she’s gone off her usual strict diet and workout routine, but I have to admit, the extra pounds look good on her. She was already the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, but she’s even sexier with the bit of thickness added to her. The other night when we were fucking, I flipped her onto her hands and knees and took her from behind, loving the way my fingers gripped her full hips.
I shake the visual from my head, not wanting to be stuck with a hard-on, and walk over to greet her. “How was your day?” I ask, leaning in for a kiss.
She dodges it, and my lips land on her cheek. And that’s when I notice her face is splotchy, and her eyes are rimmed red. “You’ve been crying.”
She answers by saying the four words every man dreads. “We need to talk.”
“Okay, I have dinner in the kitchen.”
“I’m not hungry.” She averts my gaze, and when her eyes land on the table, all done up, she flinches. “Shit, I didn’t know dinner was a thing. I’m sorry.”