Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I catch myself before I laugh, not wanting to hurt my bestie’s delicate pregnancy feelings, but shake my head. “That’s not necessary, Juni. Go home to your husband and daughter.”
Spinning back to the railing of my balcony, I close my eyes and breathe in the breezy, salty air coming off the water. I’ve lived in Miami my whole life, and in this specific condo for several years, and I’ve never appreciated the view as much as I do right now.
It’s peace and memories and just enough Henry to keep myself from going stir-crazy in my newly revolutionized world now that I’m officially home from the hospital after being discharged this afternoon.
June’s been hovering over me all day, long after Beau left to get Addy from the sitter and my parents went home to their house. And despite lots and lots of trying, I’ve not been able to get my contacts to load into the new phone that arrived with a simple note from a courier shortly after I got home.
I’ve synced to my computer and reloaded and restarted and practically bribed the fucking tech gods on Best Buy’s website with sexual favors, but nothing, and I mean nothing, has granted me access to my numbers.
June gave me hers and Beau’s and my parents, but I’ve been too embarrassed to ask for Henry’s so far, much to my own detriment.
Opening my eyes and taking a deep breath, I take my phone out of my shorts pocket and start messing with it again, toggling all the settings switches like a maniac.
June touches my shoulder, startling me, and I fumble the phone so hard, I just narrowly miss dropping it off the balcony in a dangerous tumble.
“Shoot, sorry,” she apologizes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I guess I’m going to go for now. Unless—”
“Don’t you dare say it, June. Go home. For the love of God, go home.”
“Fine!” She huffs. “Whatever. Just know that I could have fixed you a whole-ass meal if you’d let me stay. Five courses!”
God, she’s the best. I smile. “I love you, truly, but once you deliver your newborn several months from now and look back at this time, you’ll understand how crazy you’re being.”
She leans forward and kisses my cheek and then pulls me into a hug. “Call me if you need me.”
I nod. “I will.” If I can ever get this phone to work. I don’t dare mention the technological troubles to her, though. She’ll never leave.
“What are you going to do?”
I shrug. “Sleep, I guess.”
She considers me closely for a long moment, and I pause intently, waiting for the scrutiny to pass.
I know I’m different. I know.
But the last thing I want to get into with June right now is all the reasons why.
Ten minutes of begging later, I finally get my best friend out the door, waving goodbye as the doors to the elevator close in front of her.
I shut the front door of the condo and lock it, and then I retreat to my room, climbing into the comfort of newly washed sheets, courtesy of June’s neuroses.
It’s plush and warm and all the things I longed for during the chilly, uncushioned nights on the island.
And yet, it’s all wrong.
I toss and turn, back and forth from one side to the other, karate-chopping my pillow over and over in the dark room until giving up with a groan. I’m tired, almost desperately so, but sleep eludes me anyway.
Sitting up and grabbing it from my nightstand, I toggle all the switches in the settings of my phone again, connecting to the Wi-Fi again when I’m done, and finally, everything loads in a startling flourish.
Texts, calls, emails, and notifications roll in by the hundreds, and I drop the crazed thing on my bed and wait as it struggles to catch up.
It feels a little like a ticking time bomb when I pick it back up, but I scroll furiously to Henry’s number and open the message thread, only to find one from him already waiting.
Oh my God. When did he send this?
I sit up straighter in my bed.
Henry: Hey. Just checking in. How are you feeling?
I stare at his message, the words pressing heavy against my chest. My fingers hover over the screen, desperate to answer, but for as much as I want to say all the things, I can’t settle on a single one. I set the phone back on my nightstand and roll onto my side. The weight of his text lingers, mixing with the endless swirl of thoughts that keep me from sleeping.
The bed feels too big. Too empty. All fucking wrong.
Henry had this way of grounding me, of making me feel safe even when everything around us felt impossible. The sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body next to mine, the low hum of the song he’d sing when I couldn’t sleep. It became my anchor. My calm in the chaos.