Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“Thanks.” Ed gives me a crooked smile.
“I’ll take snickerdoodles,” John requests, and a small laugh escapes from between my lips when Noah glowers at the two men, even as they head down the hall.
When I hear the back door open and shut, I look at the couch and coffee table in the living room, where my things have been piled high. There was a time when having name-brand things made me feel like I was somehow important. Like I belonged. Now, all I see is the money I spent so carelessly in my attempt to find some semblance of happiness and gifts my husband gave me to make me—or maybe himself—feel better about the fact that he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
I didn’t lie when I told Noah that all this stuff is just stuff and that I don’t care about it. Really, I kind of wish his friends had left it to burn. Because now that it’s all here, so are the memories that come with it.
“What are you thinking?” Noah asks, and I shake myself out of my thoughts and focus on him.
“That I want to start a fire in the backyard and toss all this in.”
“What?”
I motion at the couch, then walk over and pick up a pink quilted vintage Chanel bag by its gold braided handle. “This purse cost almost eight grand.” I watch his shoulders jerk back in surprise. “It was a gift from Conner after the first time he cheated on me—or at least the first time I found out.” I toss it down, then pick up a slouchy black leather Gucci shoulder bag. “I bought this when I was in Paris. Conner was supposed to go with me, but he canceled on me at the last minute.” I meet his gaze. “It was our honeymoon.” I wave a hand out toward the couch. “Everything here has a sad, depressing memory like that.”
“Babe,” he says quietly, sounding as if he’s in pain. I know I shouldn’t like that my hurt bothers him, but I do because it shows he genuinely cares.
“Even though I really wouldn’t mind burning it all, I know that would be stupid.” I look at the stack of shoeboxes that all together probably add up to ten grand.
“Sell it all,” he says softly while taking a step toward me. “Pay off your car and put the rest in the bank.”
“Is that what you would do?”
“Yes.” His hand curls around my waist, causing my stomach muscles to clench as his gaze locks on mine. “I know you said you don’t want anything from that asshole, but he fucking owes you.”
“I—”
He interrupts my protest by dropping a kiss to the edge of my mouth. It causes the breath I was about to release to get trapped in my lungs. “I’ll move it all to the guest room upstairs until you’re ready to deal with it.” He lets me go, grabs an armful of stuff, and heads for the stairs.
“Thank you,” I call to his back. He stops on the bottom step, then turns to look at me. “For this.” I motion at the couch, then around the room. “For everything.”
He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but then seems to think better of it. He shakes his head and continues up the steps without another word.
I stand there for a long moment, wondering what he was about to say, but I don’t even have a chance to ask him because when he comes back down, he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a flannel button-down shirt with a vest over it. His cell is to his ear, and the second he hangs up, he lets me know that he has to head into work and doesn’t know what time he’ll be back. I know by the look on his face that I don’t need to ask if everything is okay because it’s obviously not.
CHAPTER 15
HOME
Noah
Unlocking the back door, I let myself into the house with my duffle bag over my shoulder. I carefully nudge Lola back with the side of my sneaker so I can close the door in time to shut off the alarm. It’s much later than I expected to be home, but there was a shooting involving two officers in town, so it was all hands on deck to find the person responsible. It took us hours, but before I left, we had a suspect in custody and word that both officers would be okay.
Once I punch in the code to reset the alarm, I kick off my sneakers, then bend to rub the top of Lola’s head, giving her whining pups the same attention. After a couple of minutes, I head down the hall, noticing a light flickering in the living room. My gut twists when I hit the kitchen and spot Bridgett on the couch, asleep under her blanket, the TV on a local channel playing on low as a news anchor covers the shooting.