Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
He made it perfectly clear that talking to me was the last thing he wanted to do.
So, I do the only thing I can do.
I walk away from him.
I hear him mutter, “Fuck.”
I walk to the far side of the store until there’s nowhere else to go, and I find myself standing among glass ornaments on display.
Momentarily forgetting River and the hurt I feel, I look at the shimmering glass items on the shelves.
Vases of all different colors, shapes, and sizes. There’s one that looks like a hanging basket, complete with a handle. So pretty.
There’s a bright red glass apple. It makes me think of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
And Grumpy, the giant dwarf, is right over there.
My eyes follow over to some balloons hanging down from the ceiling.
They’re made from glass. They have a light inside them.
Oh, they’re a light shade.
So beautiful.
I especially love the blue one. It’s iridescent.
“Amazing, aren’t they?” A voice comes from behind me.
I turn to see Macy standing there.
“Yes.”
“Oh, I remember you. You’re River’s neighbor, right? Carol.”
“Carrie.”
“Carrie. Of course.” She moves closer to the balloons, looking up at them. “He’s really talented, isn’t he?”
It takes me a second to catch her meaning. “Oh, the artist? Yes. Very.”
She brings her eyes to mine. “You mean, River?”
“What?”
“River. He’s the artist. He makes these. All of these.” She lifts her hand in the direction of the ornaments.
River makes these glass ornaments?
That brash, callous man over there makes these beautiful, delicate items.
Why didn’t he tell me?
“Oh. Didn’t you know?” she says, looking pleased at the fact that she knew something about River that I didn’t.
I swallow and shake my head. “No. He never told me.” I curse my voice for sounding so weak.
“How strange.” She flicks her long hair over her shoulder. “I wonder why he never said anything. But then he isn’t a big talker. Except with me, of course. We talk a lot. All the time in fact. We spend hours just chatting about nothing really.”
Okay, Macy, don’t oversell it. I’m not a threat to you when it comes to River.
The guy doesn’t want to be my friend, let alone anything else.
Not that I do either.
“That’s … nice for you.” I hold back the eye roll I really want to do. I’m about to walk away from her when something occurs to me. “Did River make the Christmas ornaments you sold here last December?”
“Of course. We only sell his art here.”
The train. He made that.
He knew I loved it, and he gave it to me and never once said that he’d created it. He didn’t even want me to know he was the one who had given it to me.
Why?
He doesn’t seem to have a problem with Macy knowing. So, why me?
Probably because he thought I’d use it as something else to talk to him about. And he wouldn’t want that. Because he barely liked me on a good day, right?
Ugh. Why am I even bothered by this?
I’m not. I’m not bothered at all.
“Well … nice seeing you again”—not—“but I need to get my shopping finished.”
“Of course.” She moves out of my way as I turn.
Her eyes drop to my belly.
“Oh. I didn’t know you were pregnant.” She sounds genuinely surprised. Like my pregnancy has some bearing on her life.
“Yes.” I place my hand over my bump. “Five months.”
“Well … congratulations.”
I’ve never heard a more disingenuous congratulations in my life.
“Thank you.”
“River never mentioned you were married.”
Is this woman for real?
You don’t have to be married to have a baby, Macy. It’s not the 1950s.
Christ, she and Neil would be perfect for each other.
Then, I immediately hate myself for that thought. Because she doesn’t deserve someone like Neil. No one does.
“I’m not married.” My ring finger twitches with the lie. “And I don’t have a boyfriend either.” Might as well clear that up as well.
“Oh.” Her eyes move down to my bump again and then back up to my face. I don’t like the look in her eyes. “I see.”
No, Macy, you really don’t.
She casts a glance over to where River is. He’s back standing at the counter, pen in his hand, staring down, as he writes something onto a sheet of paper.
“I don’t have a kid, so I wouldn’t know, but I hear that being a single mom is really hard,” she says, voice lowered, so only I can hear. “And it would totally make sense if you were looking for a daddy for your baby … but, well, River isn’t your guy. He’s … unavailable, if you know what I mean.” The look she gives me makes me know exactly what she means.
I ignore the painful twist in my chest at the knowledge.
He doesn’t want to be my friend. But he has no problem being super besties with benefits with Macy. Or whatever they are.
Fine. I don’t need his friendship anyway. I never did.