Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Eileen asked him, “You think the two of you will have babies?”
“Babies? With Josie?” Clay’s smile got bigger. “I’ll take as many as I can get.”
Babies. As many as he can get.
My heart beats furiously, threatening to rip clear out of my chest.
“Congratulations, dear,” Eileen Martin says, squeezing my shoulder affectionately. “And you better get to planning. May 14th isn’t that far away.”
I’m numb when I start to hand her back the newspaper, but she waves me off, adding, “You keep it. Add it to your scrapbook,” before she walks out of the diner.
Nausea rolls through my stomach, and a deafening ring consumes my ears. When the nausea becomes too much, I discreetly sneak down the back hallway and into the employee break room, and I lock myself in the small bathroom. My back hits the door, and my body slides to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Sobs rack my lungs, and I do my best to keep them stifled, crying quietly into my hands.
I can’t do this. I can’t live this lie, and I can’t bring Clay along for a ride of misery with me.
I know it goes against the saying, but I don’t want company.
I wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone but myself.
I know what I have to do.
Clay should move on like he’s been talking about for months now. But I understand now. He needs to do it without me.
The Moment I Should’ve Stayed: Part 2
52
Josie
December 20th
I look up at the clock that sits in my grandmother’s kitchen and stare as both hands approach the twelve at the top.
Any minute, Clay should be showing up.
My heart pounds furiously inside my chest, and my hands shake as I lift the sealed envelope out of my purse and set it on the kitchen table. I try to busy myself with washing dishes in the sink even though there’s a dishwasher that could make the job go quicker, but the distraction is nothing against the culmination of emotion built in the last forty-eight hours of pure hell.
After Eileen’s exclusive interview with Clay hit the streets of Red Bridge, my phone has been ringing nonstop.
Melba wanting me to schedule cake tasting appointments.
Three different men in town who think they’d be great DJs vying for the spot.
Sheriff Peeler wanting to talk about security for the wedding day.
The mayor wanting me to talk logistics of the ceremony in the town square.
And Betsy wanting me to come into her dress shop to go through bridal catalogues for my wedding dress.
Everyone in town is buzzing over the news of the May 14th date that Clay chose for us without my input, and I’m withering inside with the knowledge that it’ll never happen.
Not then. Not ever.
I’ve spent the last two days avoiding Clay entirely, using the same staying at Grandma Rose’s to go through her stuff excuse I’ve been using since my surgery two weeks ago and biding my time to get prepared.
It’s not easy leaving the man you love behind, and I’ve talked myself in and out of it at least half a dozen times.
I’m not just grieving over Grandma Rose. I’m not just grieving over the moments when I thought I’d lost Clay for good or the baby I lost. I’m grieving over the future I thought Clay and I would have and figuring out a way to give it to him without me.
Three soft knocks to the door and I pause mid-scrub. My heart jumps back into action, pounding so hard it’s consuming my ears, and I turn off the water and set down the coffee cup to head to the front door.
I open it slowly, much like I would Pandora’s box. Because I know, of course, that tonight, they’re one and the same.
Clay’s hair is a mess from running his fingers through it a million times, and his brown eyes look tired from working all day in the bar, but his smile is as beautiful as I’ve ever seen it. It is wide and genuine, and I swear, he’s never let me down when he looks at me.
“Damn, woman, I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”
He’s through the door and pulling me into his arms before I can stop him, and my chest aches like there are a million pounds sitting squarely on top of it.
He puts his lips to mine, and I know I shouldn’t let this kiss linger, but I can’t stop myself from savoring the feel of it one last time.
The kiss is deep and special, like always, but the occasion makes it seem even more poignant. One day, Clay Harris is going to kiss a woman like that who can give him everything he deserves and then some.
Clay breathes me in, and an urgent sadness makes me push him away. I avoid his eyes, but he’s not discouraged.