Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
The moment five came, he closed down his computer, turned his light off, and left his office. Even though he spent his time at home alone, he was determined to never be late for dinner. He arrived home at five thirty. His food was on the table. No sign of Mira. If he was quiet enough, he heard her, though. Sometimes her bedroom door was left open.
He put his briefcase down and went to the lonely table.
A pasta dish waited for him and a single envelope.
Normally, just the food waited for him, but fear tightened in the back of his throat as he picked up the envelope, not knowing what she could have left for him.
He turned it over, dreading what he might find.
Inside was a picture.
Drake turned it over and saw it was from the ultrasound. At the time, there had been a technical fault, but the doctor had promised an image would be provided of their child. His baby didn’t want to show them if it was a boy or girl.
“It came today,” Mira said. She stood in a jacket as he got to his feet.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I need to head to the pharmacy. It’s not a big deal. I talked to the doctor about the sickness. I’m losing a little too much weight because of the morning sickness. He gave me the details of something to take that will help. I’m just going to go and get it.”
“Let me come with you.”
She held her hand up. “No. It’s fine. Eat your dinner while it’s warm. I cooked it. I hope you like it.”
“Mira, I love everything you do. You know this. I love you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I know, which is why this is so hard, Drake. I … I’ve got to go and get some air and then I think we need to talk about … the future.”
“I’m not letting you go.”
“Let me go and get this. I really need the air. We’ll talk when I get back.”
“I love you, Mira. Please, I love you.”
“I’ll be back in ten minutes. We’ll talk. Please.”
He wanted to argue with her. To demand he go with her, but instead, he nodded. “Our baby looks beautiful.”
She nodded and didn’t say a word, just stepped out of the penthouse, and he stood, like an asshole, broken.
What could he say?
What could he do to make her see that he loved her and he regretted what he’d done? He loved her so damn much, and there didn’t seem to be a damn thing he could do about any of this.
He was a man who’d built himself up from nothing, and now look at him. He couldn’t figure out how to get his wife to forgive him.
There was no way he’d accept defeat. They were going through a rough patch. They would get through this.
With the ultrasound in his hand, he went back to the table and ate every bite of his dinner. She’d made it for him. There was no way he was going to let his wife come home to find it in the trash.
After he finished, he took his plate to the kitchen and washed it. Rather than let it drain, he dried it, and then headed back into the dining room.
He checked the time and saw it had been nearly half an hour. Fear ran up his spine as he constantly glanced at his watch.
Just when he was about to lose his mind, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. The elevator opened and closed, taking him down to the main floor. He stepped out of the elevator as his cell phone rang.
Without looking at the person on the display, he answered. “Eastwood.”
“Is this a Mr. Drake Eastwood?”
“Yeah, who’s calling?”
He stopped as the woman on the line told him her name, and that she was calling from the hospital.
“We have a Mrs. Mira Eastwood—”
Drake took off out of his apartment building. The hospital wasn’t too far from where he lived. There was no time to get to the underground parking. He stopped listening to the woman on the phone and ran the short distance to the hospital.
He saw several police cars outside of the hospital and he ran straight past them, pushing people out of his way as he entered the building. There was a small line of people waiting to speak to the main receptionist.
Ignoring all of them, even their complaints at him jumping the line.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to get—”
“You called me. Told me my wife was here. Mira Eastwood.”
“Sir, I haven’t made any such call.”
“Damn it, I was just on the phone with you. From someone here.” He started to get angry and noticed two police officers approaching. He didn’t care if they wanted to arrest him, he wasn’t going anywhere until he had seen his wife. The call wasn’t a prank. “You told me my wife was here. Don’t play games with me. I’ll have your fucking job, do you hear me?”