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)
And there we go. They were officially naughty and figured out a major life hack that was going to make Beau and I crazy.
“Only me and Mia. Livie’s not fun. She’s smart and bossy,” Ava popped out with hints of insult. “She can’t be a little bad ever.”
“So you know that what you and Mia did was wrong?” I asked, all three heads turned my way, no remorse on their pretty faces and nodded. They were so dang confident.
“We only do it at school,” Mia added, as if that made it better.
“Remember, you never pretend to be each other to adults or in important situations,” Beau explained and pointed us toward the television.
How about they never pretend to be each other?
The volume elevated then instantly lowered, the screen paused when Linda came to the open doorframe, holding West on her hip. “We came to say goodnight.”
“Come join us,” Beau said, lifting out of the chair, motioning for his mom to take the seat. “Pizza’s on the dresser, extra juice boxes are there too.” As he took West from her, the little guy was growing so fast, he headed for his side of the bed. The space between us became West’s play space. When Linda took her seat near me, Beau started the performance again. Tears developed in my eyes with pride for my girls. There were perfect performers. I wondered if everyone envied their greatness.
15: The December
Dash/Beau/Dash
Dash
Twelve Days Later
“You’re killing me, babe,” I said, breaking the oppressive silence in the vehicle. “Your obstinance isn’t going to change anything. I’m going back to work.”
Bossy Beau was chauffeuring me at a snail’s pace, at least five miles per hour below the speed limit, to protect me from… Well, I didn’t know what. The weight of his displeasure hung heavily in the air. And the regular fifteen-to-twenty-minute journey from our garage to my parking space in front of my office had stretched into a torturous thirty-minute ordeal.
I bet everyone who had ever known my husband understood what a pain in the ass he was when the micromanaging surfaced.
The stone-faced giant had ultimately given in and was driving me to the office, only because the other option I’d offered was to drive myself. Apparently, there was no universe that would allow such a thing, making him more frustrated with me.
“Without the doctor’s approval,” Beau muttered through gritted teeth. He kept his gaze fixed stubbornly on the road ahead.
I gave an exaggerated eye roll and dropped my head on the seat’s headrest. “Beau, I did what you said. You were right. There’s a process of healing. You’re a miracle worker. I’m getting myself back more and more every day. Going to the office to sit behind my desk… It takes nothing out of me and does everything to help my perspective.”
“Pfft,” Beau said. The single syllable was loaded with tons of contempt.
“Did you just pfft me?” I asked, irritation bubbling up as we circled back to the argument we’d had all morning. “What’s that even mean? And I pfft you right back.”
“Pfft,” Beau said louder, dismissively. “You lied to me.”
“No, I didn’t.” At least he shouldn’t know any of the half-truths I’d told him since we first met. “When did I lie?”
Beau finally looked at me when he turned into my designated parking spot in front of the law firm’s front doors. His expression was one of betrayal and resignation. “Go on to the place that matters the most to you,” he said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. His other hand tossed out in a silent pfft this time.
“You know that’s not true, Beau. I haven’t been here in six weeks.”
“I know that you were always overdoin’ your rehab, walkin’ the house with your walker until exhaustion. So much for my miracle healin’ abilities,” Beau said bitterly, turning his head forward, refusing to look at me.
So much for being sly. My heart sank. “I only did what the therapist suggested.”
“Lie,” Beau repeated, his voice final and unwavering.
“Please don’t have me going in there like this. It’s already overwhelming to consider the sheer volume of work waiting for me. It’ll be a challenge to get caught up. This office pays our bills. I need to get a rundown on what’s happened while I was away,” I explained, staring at the etched glass of the entry door. My law firm. I was proud of my accomplishments. The journey wasn’t easy, but he and I did it together.
Physically, I was still a shell of the man I once was. The suit I chose to wear today was one I wore ten years ago when I was much younger and way hotter. At a time when my hair was mostly blond, but I was regaining weight and muscle. My lungs were still struggling, but I knew the signs to watch for. I didn’t plan to overdo it. There was literally no reason to keep me from the office.