Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I chuckle for the first time in five days, and I’m not surprised she’s the only one who can make me laugh. “You have no idea.” I look down, feeling my stomach rising. “She was pissed that it wasn’t her.”
“Well, again.” She whistles as she uses her finger to go around in a circle by her head.
“It gets worse.” My stomach feels like I’m going to hurl on her feet. “She did something and I don’t know if you can ever forgive me,” I mumble and she stares at me. “She fucking tampered with the condoms!” I roar the words out and she takes a step back, her face going white. “I thought she was fucking with me. At least I fucking hoped she was fucking with me. But then I came home, and I went to check the ones I had left.” The color drains away from her face.
“Oh my God.” She puts her hand to her mouth.
I reach over and pull open the drawer where I stashed them. “And she fucking tampered with each and every single one of them. I opened one to check and—”
“Oh my God,” she says again and I get up now to go to her, but she holds up her hand to stop me. The lump in my throat forms at the same time my hands tingle to touch her. “This is—”
“I know,” I agree, rooted to my spot. “It’s so fucked up.”
“It’s diabolical,” she snaps. “She was going to fucking trap you with a child.”
“Forget about me.” I shake my head, still in disbelief. “She trapped you with a child. My child.” The guilt is rocking me. “You are the only innocent one in all of this.”
“I have no idea what to say right now, Jaxon. I—”
“I’m so sorry, Ariella.” Her face flashes with something else and I have no idea what it is. “I never wanted this.”
“You never wanted this,” she repeats the words. “I know.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I quickly defend my words.
“I—” She takes a deep inhale. “I’m…” I close my eyes. “I just need to think.”
“Yeah.” I nod, giving her that as she bends her head and walks out of the bedroom.
“I’m going to go and take a walk on the beach.” I watch her walk out of the room and then head over to the window overlooking the ocean. I wish I could go take a walk with her. I wish I had the courage to ask her to go with her. I wish I could take her in my arms and bury my face in her neck and just wish everything was back to the way it was. I wish I didn’t feel like a piece of shit. I have gone through all the fucking emotions this week, from being in shock to being annoyed to being fucking pissed, and then back to annoyed and irritated.
But the biggest thing I’ve felt is feeling so fucking scared she is going to hate me. Scared this is the final straw for her and she’s going to leave. Scared to the depths of my soul that I’ll lose her and the baby. So scared I don’t know if I can make it if I do lose them.
I spot her walking from the house toward the water, stopping to look out into the distance. The wind blows her hair in her face from the side as she turns her head, blowing the hair away from her face before she starts to walk down the beach, her head down as she does. Turning away from the window, I head to the closet, and when I step in, I see she’s put all her clothes away.
The smile on my face quickly fades when I think about the fact that maybe this is going to change things. Maybe she’s not going to want to be here with me because of this bullshit. What if she’s not able to forgive me for my part in it? Even though I didn’t know what Tiffany had done .
I undress and get out of my suit, grabbing a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt before I head down to the kitchen. Seeing her boxes everywhere makes me feel like she’s finally here to stay, but for how long? I walk back to the kitchen and see the red mark on the calendar that says her appointment day at the doctor. I put my head back and then look over when I hear footsteps on the stairs in the back.
“It’s windy out there,” she declares, her arms crossed in front of her as she rubs her hands up and down her arms. “I need a sweater.”
“I have one hanging near the garage.” I point that way. “You finally got an appointment?”
“Yeah, I called while I was in New York,” she says, not looking at me.