Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The more he talked, the more I—grudgingly—began to understand.
Ricky went on. “You were the plot twist he didn’t see coming.” He huffed out a breath. “And then he lost you. You were gone, and nobody would tell him where you were or whether you were okay. He spent time your dementia-ridden grandmother, for fuck’s sake.”
My stomach shimmied.
I had my suspicions on just who had paid my grandmothers tenancy at St Jude’s but every time my thoughts drifted to Connor, I denied he would ever do something so selfless. But I was angry and hurt. Now, thinking about it, it made perfect sense. Because Connor wasn’t an asshole. He just played one to his worldly audience.
Only, I knew better.
“He did?” My voice was weak.
“He did.” Ricky put his omelette onto a plate. “And while everyone else is going about their lives, Connor comes crashing down to earth with the realization of what he’s done, of what he’s lost.” He forked the eggs into his mouth and garbled, “He can’t cope. Turns to drugs, again.”
“I didn’t want that.”
Ricky swallowed and made a face. “Nobody wanted that but that’s the point that Connor, bless him, loses the will to live. Goes on a bender then another until, whaddaya know, it’s a month later and he hasn’t showered. And I’m working interstate, none the wiser.” He ruefully looked down at the counter. “Until that fucking interview went viral.”
Shame filled me. It had always seemed like I was the only victim here. Alas, Connor was a victim of his own destructive ways. “Connor’s good at hiding himself.”
Finished with his meal, he placed his plate into the sink, gripping the edge, leaning over it. “Mark my words. If you didn’t show up when you did, I’d be putting flowers on his grave.”
The thought sent a shiver through me.
“He’s doing everything he can to be an improved version of himself. He’s motivated, determined to be a better man, and it’s all for you. I know it.” Ricky stood and looked me deep in the eye. “So, don’t break up. Fix it. Be romantic and date your husband like he wants to date you. Let him work to win you over. Love each other now, because life is short and you’re too young to live with regret.”
Each word hit me, and they hit me hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs.
It was strange, surreal even. As if abruptly every doubt in my mind had been expelled.
Without uttering a single word, I stood and walked away, taking the steps slowly until I was at the top of the staircase. I heard rustling and followed the sound until I came to stand in the doorway of Connor’s bedroom.
It was huge and, immediately, my eyes were drawn to the bed. It was neatly made, the bedspread was completely black and I smiled to myself.
Letting myself in, I closed the door behind me then kicked off my heels. I followed the rustling until I came to be in Connor’s bright white en suite. Watching him from the doorway, my heart stuttered when I saw Connor standing by the mirror, toweling himself off. My eyes drifted down to his boxers and the familiar bulge there made my stomach dip and the apples of my cheeks heat.
“Hey,” he said, and I heard his smile but continued to look at his crotch.
“Hey.” When I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, I whispered, “I missed you.”
Connor smiled down at me, affectionately. “I was coming back down in a minute.”
But, deliberately, I shook my head and my throat was suddenly tight. I tried to make him understand. I spoke slowly, clearly. “I missed you.”
When I stepped forward and approached, he looked unsure. Even more so, when I pressed myself into his front and placed a soft kiss to the center of his chest.
“Baby?”
My heart thumped when I took his hand. He let me lead him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. When I stopped at the foot of it and reached behind me, unzipping my skirt, I said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You and I are starting over, from scratch.” He looked at my bare legs as the skirt slipped down to the ground and I stepped out of it. “You’re going to have to work harder than you ever have in your life.” Reaching down, I gripped the hem of my tight black tank and pulled it up, over my head. I shook my hair out. “You need to be prepared, Connor. I’m not going to make it easy on you.”
Connor’s eyes hooded. His gaze roamed my body and he swallowed hard.
Bared to each other, I took a step forward, gently grasped his hand and slid it around my body, pressing it against my lace-covered ass cheek. His brows narrowed, his lips parted and his grip tightened on me. His free hand moved to join the other and I internally smiled.