Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Although he did have an annoying habit of trying to decide what was best for me when he thought he was ruining my life.
I saw nothing on the list that would make me hesitate to marry him. But there must have been something about me that had changed his mind.
The bathroom door opened, and I hurried to turn off my phone, like I’d been caught committing a crime.
Pamela’s voice drifted into the echoey room. “I can’t believe he has the nerve to bring her,” she said, and there was a laugh. A laugh I recognized.
Valerie.
“I know. It’s so pathetic,” she said with a resigned sigh. “But that’s Neil for you. The man’s arrogance knows no bounds.”
“It’s Emma I feel badly for, poor dove,” Pamela replied, just as I, quietly as possible, put one foot, then the other, on the toilet seat to hide my feet below the gap in the stall. “Imagine how awful that must be for her? To have her father’s practically teenage mistress at her wedding?”
“I know, I know.” Valerie sounded like she was consoling Emma, despite the fact that she wasn’t there. “She handles it well, but she is so uncomfortable with them. Apparently, they go at it like rabbits. Emma was afraid to move from room to room when she was still living with them.”
I peeked over the top of the door and caught a quick glimpse of Valerie applying lipstick in the mirror.
This was just like a teen movie. And I was the lovable nerd hiding in the bathroom stall while the popular girls bitched about me.
Well, apparently not too lovable, listening to them.
“He’s making a fool of himself,” Pamela went on. “Why do men always do this in middle age?”
“This is Neil we’re talking about. He started going through his midlife crisis the moment Emma was born,” Valerie snarked. “I’m sure this one will be the same as last time. Her biological clock will start making unreasonable demands, he’ll panic, and she’ll be gone.”
My anger boiled up inside me like some horrible, hot, nasty thing. I wanted to storm out and punch her, and I was pretty sure that the only thing holding me back was that Emma wouldn’t want her mother to have a black eye in the wedding photos.
“If she’s anything like the last one, the wedding alone will be an expensive lesson to learn,” Pamela mused.
“Oh, no. I don’t think the wedding is going to happen.” Pride dripped from Valerie’s voice. “I’ve been…gently steering him in the wise direction. ‘She’s so young, you two must have so much in common to overcome that,’ ‘it’s amazing you can keep up with her,’ that type of thing.”
“You can’t tell them anything directly, can you?” Pamela clucked her tongue as though they were talking about a naughty child and not a grown man.
“No, you really can’t. Especially Neil. He just doesn’t listen. I tried to warn him about the last one, and look where that ended up.”
“Hopefully, this one doesn’t take him for as much alimony,” Pamela snorted. “I’m going to the alley for a cigarette. Are you coming?”
“No, I’ll be along in a minute, I should get back out there. I just need the toilet.”
When I heard Pamela leave, I stomped down from the toilet seat and flung open the stall door.
For a second, I worried Valerie might have a heart attack, and not in a metaphorical sense. Her eyes flew open, her face went pale—I swear, if she hadn’t been wearing coral lipstick, her lips would have been blue—and her body jolted. Maybe it was because she was shocked at being caught. Maybe it was just the loud noise of the door banging on its hinges and ricocheting back into the latch, which was, admittedly, alarming. But she took a step back, so I knew I did not look happy.
When I spoke, it sounded like some inhuman being had inhabited me. Having been raised extremely Catholic, I did worry for a moment that I might have been possessed, but I think the only thing truly controlling me was my incredible willpower to not knock her down and jam my Stuart Weitzman pump down her throat. “Let me be clear. There are two reasons, two reasons, I am not resorting to physical violence right now, and those are that Emma wouldn’t want your hair to be all ripped out in the wedding pictures, and I don’t think you’re worth a night in jail.”
“How dare—” she tried, but I was on a roll.
“I am not finished speaking!” I nearly shouted, but I didn’t want anyone to overhear. I wanted to have this moment uninterrupted, because I didn’t want anything misconstrued. I didn’t want Valerie to think she had an inch of wiggle room, or a drop of sympathy from anyone for the shit she’d been pulling.