Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“I brought you these,” I say, holding up the box. “They’re the cinnamon rolls you love.”
She gasps, “I was literally craving one this afternoon and then told myself that if I was good all week long, it could be my treat on Saturday. But if they’re here, it’s rude for me not to eat one.” She looks at me. “Right?”
“It shouldn’t be a treat on a Saturday,” I tell her. “You should eat it when you want to eat it. Like on a Tuesday night or a Wednesday lunch. You don’t have to justify it,” I reply as she walks sideways.
“This is the kitchen,” she says of the little kitchen off the entrance. “It’s nothing big but—”
“It’s perfect,” I tell her as I follow her into the living and dining area. I see a round glass table with her laptop on it and her notebook beside it with writing scribbled all down the page.
“I was working before I was so rudely interrupted by someone.” She points to the table and I roll my eyes. “It’s only two bedrooms.” She walks to the small hallway off the dining area, and I stick my head in the spare bedroom, seeing there are just racks of clothes and then stop when I look at the other side, seeing her bedroom. The big king-size bed is in the middle with two bedside tables, but my eyes go to the frames I had made for her above her bed. “The best part is here.” She grabs my hand and drags me back to the living room and then out the glass door to the balcony area. “I do yoga right there every single morning.” She points to the side where there is a rolled-up yoga mat lying. “Right when the sun is rising.” She lets my hand go and I want to snatch it back. “It’s small compared to your place.”
“It’s perfect for you,” I tell her softly, “and exactly how I thought it would look.”
The smile on her face is worth all the money in the world. “It’s windy today,” she mentions. “Let’s go inside.” She turns and walks inside. “Sit down.” She points to the couch. “I’ll go get the cinnamon rolls.”
I walk over to the couch and stop when I see what’s in the frame next to the television. I walk over to it, picking it up. “You saved it?” I ask her and she looks over at me from the kitchen, grabbing a plate out from the cupboard.
“I did,” she confirms, coming back into the room with a tray in her hand, containing two plates with two bottles of water, as she places it on the coffee table. “It’s special. It was the one thing that made me see the light. It’s gotten me through some tough times. You probably had no idea when you wrote it how much it would change my life.” She sits on the couch, grabbing a plate, and then leaning back tucking her feet under her. “I have news,” she says and I walk over and sit beside her, but not close enough for me.
“Tell me.”
She takes a bite of the cinnamon roll before she leans over and places the plate on the table. “I was thinking about what you said on Saturday, so on Sunday I reached out to Matty and Zara,”
she shares, and I can see the tears well up in her eyes. My hand automatically goes out to rest over her curled-up legs. “I apologized to them for not being there,” she says through a shaky voice. “I’m not sure I can say this without crying.”
“It’s okay,” I encourage her softly, and she puts her arm on the back of the couch.
“It was therapeutic, I think, for all of us. I told them how sorry I was for missing all of the most important events in their lives and then, in return, they told me they were sorry for not being there for me. For not seeing the signs, for not pushing it more. Zara and I basically sobbed to each other for a full five minutes before I was even able to finish and then she said that she felt guilty for not seeing it.” She chuckles. “Matty had some other choice words about going to Phoenix to kick his ass and Sofia said she could make sure no one knows it’s him. His exact words were ‘If I see this fucking clown anywhere, he’s going to have a broken nose and a busted lip, and then I’m going to knee him in the balls just for fun.’” She smiles through the tears.
I can’t help but smile at that. “I’ll help,” I tell her and she laughs. “I’ll drive the getaway car.” She smiles as she puts her elbow on the back of the couch. “How did that make you feel?”