Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I do.” Her hands suddenly fisted, her body shook with sheer excitement.
“Watch a show for me,” I said, handing her a tablet. “I’m gonna talk to Paw in front of the truck for a minute.”
“Okay.” She began navigating the iPad like a little professional. I shut her door and went to the front of the vehicle to wait for Beau. The warm sun worked its magic. I’d deal with whatever I was going through privately. I leaned my ass against the hood and slid my shades on as a gaggle of moms and their mini-mes strolled by. I detected interest, at least by one. They’d figure it out soon enough.
Beau
I was always so damned rule-oriented, holding myself and everyone around us accountable for what? So I could defeat myself in the end? He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t either. We might have created a momentary truce of unresolved issues, but we needed somewhere quiet to talk this out and solve our problems before it began to fester.
But who wanted to talk? Look where talking brought us to.
I pushed through the dance studio’s door and saw Dash standing in front of the Tahoe. His extraordinary appearance never faded or aged. He’d moved past always having to look perfect… Well, sort of. Now, he wore his hair in such a way that it didn’t take a lot of effort. His clothes were all handmade from his days and salary in Chicago. He had a classic style, not trendy. I did a lot of laundry each week, yet I wasn’t allowed to touch his clothes. Only Amelia, who had handled Dash’s idiosyncrasies since birth, was given that authority. And I felt sure he had actually guided her since his birth. The modern, trendy sunglasses and bracelets made him look wealthy and runway ready.
Like normal, he drew every eye around us. The dance moms stared too. Before his pretty charm affected me, I glanced away. Dash was too astute at reading people. In not too much longer, he’d have me apologizing, and I wasn’t ready to do that. Kind of shitty, but still true.
Four steps later, I felt his gaze riveted on me, and I had no other option than to look at him. Neither of us said anything as I passed him, until he pushed off the grill and followed me to West’s side of the car.
When I locked my little guy in the car, Dash was standing in front of me. Arms crossed. Immoveable. “It’s my fault. I broke the agreement. I’m sorry. I was way off base with the other things I said.”
And there I stood, ready to sabotage the things I held dear because Dash showed me a small amount of favor.
“You said what you meant. It’s not a new argument. You’ve used some variation of it several times before.” My words had nothing to do with the real reason we began to fight this afternoon. “We’ll have to deal with that when I get back. We probably need to call our therapist. You definitely need to. Until then, if you wanna change somethin’, tell me. It’s fine.”
Dash’s smile said lots of things, the biggest was he didn’t believe a word I said.
I rolled my eyes then my shoulders. The tension there made the muscles ache. “We need to get home before West wants a bottle.”
“I don’t have resentment about our past.” Dash reached for my forearm, taking hold to keep me in my spot. The touch helped soothe the ache in my heart. So much of my healthy mental well-being centered in my guy. “I love you. The disagreement hit differently for me in the store. I was pretty proud of your birthday gift. Whether you know it or not, I put a lot of thought into gifts for you. You do so much for all of us. You do more than your fair share, and you work two jobs. I want you happy.”
I stared at him, silently. He didn’t understand where I was coming from. We tackled life together, nothing was a burden if we did it with one another. The concept had changed the fiber of my entire world. Dash and I were a team. It felt incredible when it was performed correctly.
“My immigration case is messing with my head. If it hadn’t dropped in my lap…”
I cut him off before we slid into another tendril of diversion that didn’t hold weight in our actual argument. “No, the case matters. That family needs you,” I said, and shook my head. “We need to find a better balance and figure out why you keep going back to when I left Chicago, but not now. I leave in a couple of days. I’ll be gone and I don’t want to worry about home.” I let that be enough and gently twisted out of his hold. I meant the words, but I lied when I said I wouldn’t carry the problem with me. I’d think about it until I came home from the trip and then concede my side.