Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
His eyes widen. “Do you really?”
“Nah.” I smirk. “I let people know upfront that I’m legally separated.”
“Yeah, same.” A flush dots his cheeks. “Well, not for every hookup.”
My stomach sours, but still, I have to ask. “Have you ever dated anyone?”
“Why would I?”
“Because we haven’t been together in years?”
“But you’re the only one I ever wanted to be with.”
Goddamn, this man will be the death of me. He says all the right things, but it doesn’t matter because we can’t make it work. And trying again might be even more painful.
Our eyes connect, and I hope Micah sees all the underpinnings of truth in mine. That no one could ever take his place. He will always be the love of my life.
I slide out of the booth. “Maybe our divorce will free you up to find some companionship in this godforsaken town.”
“Don’t count on it,” he mutters, following me out.
22
MICAH
The twinge in my chest feels like barbed wire. Fuck, filling out those forms seemed definitive. And not in a good way.
Yet here we are, singing and hamming it up four hours into our drive back to Aqua Vista.
Because we’re friends and we still love each other.
I pull into a fast-food place for a quick dinner, a bathroom break, and to stretch our legs. We decide to take our food to go and eat on the way.
John is behind the wheel now, and the car is quiet as we prepare to eat. Just like old times, I unwrap his chicken sandwich and place it on top of napkins in his lap before taking a bite of my own.
It comes so naturally he doesn’t even blink. “Thanks.”
When he’s halfway done, I feed him some fries dipped in ketchup because I know he likes that, but also so we don’t make too much of a mess. He laughs when I wipe some mayo off his mouth with a napkin, and I have the urge to follow the motion with a kiss. But now that we’ve made a final decision about our divorce, it doesn’t seem appropriate.
“Do you think maybe we were never meant to be?” I hold my breath as I clean up the wrappers and ketchup packets and place the empties in the bag at my feet.
“I don’t know. I always hoped it just wasn’t the right time.”
“Yeah, same.” I sigh. “Were you serious about living in LA?”
He hitches a shoulder. “Not like I haven’t considered it a thousand times over the years. I think, eventually, one of us would end up resenting the other.”
“Suppose it’s easier said than done. On my worst days, I pretended, though.”
He glances my way. “Pretended?”
“That one day you’d show up in a moving truck.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Early on, I thought maybe I could do it.”
“Like the time you stayed in LA for a couple of weeks?”
“Yeah. But I…”
“You missed Aqua Vista and your bar. Your family too.”
“I did, but never as much as I missed you,” he admits. “So I told myself it was only temporary. That somehow one of us would figure out how to make it work in the same city. I’m sorry, Micah.”
“No, don’t be. It’s not realistic. But I’m glad it wasn’t only me.”
His eyes are soft as he murmurs, “Never.”
We grow quiet as I watch the passing landscape out the passenger window.
“Why did you never beg me?” John’s voice is tight, hesitant, as if he’s been storing up the question for a long time. “Plead with me to move?”
“Because I saw how out of sorts you felt during that two-week stay.” No way our love could’ve sustained that divide between us, no matter how much I wanted him to consider it. “Why didn’t you ever beg me to stay?”
He curves an eyebrow. “Would you have?”
“Probably,” I admit. “You were the one who gave me the confidence to take a chance.”
The corners of his mouth turn down as if he regrets the initial conversation that launched the whole idea way back when. “And if you hadn’t gone, we’d have only ended up in the same place.”
I blow out a breath because it’s true. And like he said, I might’ve ended up resenting him—and the town even more.
“It’s like Beth said about the sun and the ocean.”
He momentarily takes his eyes off the road. “Huh?”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, you know how she is. Always has some sort of metaphor for life’s lessons or whatever. Something like, the sun and the ocean are sure of each other but can only connect for fleeting moments in time because the horizon keeps them apart.”
“Whoa. I’ll admit that one’s deep…” He trails off as if considering it.
“She predicted I’d leave town too, remember?”
He winces and looks away.
“Do you believe she truly has a gift?” I ask.
“I don’t know for sure, but hey, more power to anyone who thinks so.”