Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Oh my God,” I whisper and feel hands slide around my waist. My hands slide over Kenton’s and I tilt my head back so I can look into his eyes. “Where are we?”
“The Bahamas.” He smiles, bending down to kiss my mouth.
“Is the beach pink or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”
“It’s pink.”
“Wow.” Who would have thought there was a place in the world with pink-sand beaches?
“What do you say you put on that bikini I saw in your bag and we go snorkeling?” he asks.
I smile and nod before completely turning around in his arms. “Thank you for this.” I get up on my tiptoes, press my mouth to his, and then duck under his arm, running back into the room so I can put my suit on. I hear him laugh and the sound only makes me smile bigger.
The rest of our honeymoon is spent either in bed or on the beach. I can’t imagine it being any more perfect.
*
“Babe, get the door!” Kenton yells from his office.
I roll my eyes and drop the shirt I was folding to the bed. “You could say please!” I yell back, bouncing down the stairs with Tubs right behind me. I hear him laugh but don’t hear him say please.
We have definitely fallen into the role of a married couple—except I don’t cook or clean. We have a housekeeper who comes once a week, and Kenton cooks dinner most nights, because anytime I get near a stove, it’s a recipe for disaster.
I swing the front door open and my world tilts. “Mom,” I whisper in shock. Before I realize what’s happening, her hand is coming across my face in a slap so hard that my head flies to the side.
“How dare you?” she hisses, lifting her hand again. I can hear Tubs going crazy.
“I have never hit a woman in my life, but I will tell you right now. You touch her again and I will put you down,” Kenton growls while stepping between my mom and me.
My hand hasn’t moved from my cheek. I can still feel the sting of her slap, and my body heats up. My vision blurs—not with tears, but with rage. I have been through hell and she shows up here not out of concern, but out of self-preservation. I know exactly why she’s here.
Kenton found my father not long after we got home from our honeymoon. At first, I wasn’t going to contact him, but after a long talk with Kenton and Nancy, I decided I had nothing to lose. If he didn’t want to talk to me or have a relationship with me, it wouldn’t hurt any more or any less than if I didn’t reach out to him. So I called him, and to say he was adamant that I was a scammer is an understatement.
It wasn’t until Justin sent him a copy of my medical records that he called me back. He told me that my mom told him that I’d died when I was three and that I had been cremated. He said that he still had the urn that he believed my ashes were held in. He explained that my mom moved out of the area they lived in a few days after she dropped off what was supposed to be my remains to him, and he never heard from her again.
“Do not come between me and my child,” my mom hisses, trying to get around Kenton.
I don’t even know what comes over me, but the rage I have felt since I was young gives me the strength to get around Kenton’s body, which I swear is expanding before my eyes.
“How dare I? How dare I?” I shriek at the top of my lungs. “I’m sure you’re here because my father contacted you. How dare you keep him from me?! How dare you tell him I was dead and let him believe his only child was killed?”
“Do not talk to me like that. I did what was best for you. He was nothing.”
“Why? Because he didn’t fit into your perfect little world?”
“He was a garbageman,” she says snottily.
“And you slept with him for over two years!” I yell, my hand balling into a fist at my side. I feel heat from Kenton at my back, his presence offering me strength. I know that, with him, I will be able to face any demons I have.
“He wasn’t good enough for me or you.”
“He loved me!” I scream, and without thinking, I smack her. My hand stings from the impact, but seeing the red tinge to her cheek somehow makes me feel better.
Her hand goes to her face and her eyes get big. “You little bitch.”
“I’m not that scared little girl anymore, Mom,” I tell her when I see her hand start to rise again. “You hit me and I will hit you back.”