Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“I’m not pregnant.” I rolled my eyes, suppressing a smile. Dyl was right. It was too soon for a baby. I hadn’t even had a chance to properly enjoy my husband. At the same time, I was oddly comfortable with the idea of having children with Tate considering the fact that our marriage almost cost me my life.
Oh, and that we both had committed murder. In his case, plural.
“Thank God. I still need to catch up on episodes: Gia Almost Got Killed, Gia Got Kidnapped, and Tate Gives Great Oral.” Dylan wiped invisible sweat from her forehead.
“I gave you all the CliffsNotes.” I laughed.
I didn’t share what Tate had done to land himself in a Mafia war. Just explained that he screwed Tiernan over on a business deal. This was ridiculously easy for Cal and Dylan to believe, since both their husbands had been fucked over financially by Tate.
“Hardly.” Dylan made a face, mounting guac on her tortilla chip and tossing it into her mouth. “You left so much information out.”
“Such as?”
“Is Tiernan Callaghan as hot up close as he is in the pictures?”
“This is your second strike,” Cal gasped. “Stop salivating over this asshole.”
“Don’t pretend.” Dylan gave Cal a playful shove. “You were there with me when I conducted the, um, my research on him.”
“He is ruggedly handsome,” I admitted. “That whole mass murderer bit, though, takes him down from a ten to a seven.”
“Twelve in my books.” Dylan tossed her hair back. “Anyway, you were saying?”
“I was saying…” I lowered my fork and sat back, looking between my two friends with a huge grin on my face. “We’re moving.”
“On from this episode?” Dylan asked hopefully.
“No, physically, from the city.”
“Moving where?” Cal took another mouthful of her burrito bowl.
“England.”
She proceeded to choke on her bite, coughing uncontrollably and reaching for her glass of water.
“New England?” Cal cleared her throat.
“No. Old England. The one with the castles and king and real football.”
“I’m sorry.” Dylan raised a hand. “It might be the accent. I think you pronounced ‘Westchester’ wrong.”
“No, Dyl.” I offered her a rueful smile. “We’re moving to England. Permanently. I asked Tate before I got discharged.”
“But…why?” Dylan grumbled. “Cal’ll have you because she splits her time between NYC and London, but what about me?”
“I’ll come visit often, and of course, you’re always welcome to stay over with your family as much as you’d like!” I assured her. Although if I were completely honest, I wasn’t entirely sure my husband was a fan of guests. Or small children. Or…humans in general. “We decided to start over somewhere new, with a slower pace of life. We’re moving to the country. Kent, more specifically.”
Moving back home was important to me. I wanted to start somewhere fresh, putting our pasts, our anguish, and our animosity behind us. New York was drenched in trauma. The city reminded me of hectic mornings picking up strewn thongs from Tate’s desk and clearing his schedule on a whim because he decided to go ruin someone’s small business. Not to mention now, New York reminded me of my mother’s death. Of the Callaghans and the Ferrantes and the most frightening time in my life.
I’d been a caregiver my entire life. An assistant. A daughter. A fake wife. A real wife. It was time I started doing things for myself, even if it meant others needed to adjust their lives around me. It was a process, and one I was working with alongside a virtual therapist I started to see weekly.
I needed this. We needed this to heal.
“And Tate is going along with it?” Cal’s eyebrows flew to her forehead, her jaw going slack. “To living in Kent?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Row said he oftentimes looks down at anywhere in America that isn’t New York City and compares living in the suburbs to having a voluntary lobotomy.”
I cringed. My husband really was an acquired taste, wasn’t he? “Tate is very fond of New York, but he’s willing to compromise.”
But he wasn’t compromising. He was going right along with everything I wanted. And perhaps it was selfish of me, but I needed at least a year to recuperate from the first few weeks of our marriage. Who knew? Maybe after I put time and space between myself and everything that had happened, I’d want to come back to New York.
All I knew was that I’d spent my entire adult life doing whatever Tate Blackthorn wanted me to do. It was time I made decisions for myself too.
“It’s the end of an era.” The corners of Dylan’s mouth pulled down in sadness. “You were there when I needed you the most. When Grav got kidnapped by Tucker. When Rhyland and I started out and I needed someone to help me make sense of everything.”
“I’ll still be there,” I assured her. “I will always be there for you. Through thick and thin. Promise.”