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 walk into the house, trying not to make too much noise, in case she’s sleeping. The minute I take a step in, I see there is a pile of boxes, which were littered all over the house, now broken down and piled by the door. After she left to go shopping telling me that I could have a fucking get-out-of-jail card, I got so scared she would leave that I unpacked half her fucking things before I left. I don’t even know where I put them or if I even put them in the right place. All I know is that if I didn’t have to go to work, I would have unpacked them all for when she got home and made sure she wouldn’t leave.
The soft light coming from the living room lights up the hallway just a bit as I take off my shoes and make my way into the house.
The television is on, but she’s lying on the couch and she’s fast asleep. I take off my suit jacket and walk over to her, squatting down in front of her and just watch her. Which is pretty creepy if she wakes up and finds me just watching her. Ever since I told her about Tiffany, it’s been so weird between us. I’ve given her space to work it out on her end. Which might not have been the right thing to do. I should have forced her to talk to me about it.
She got home from shopping with Zoey late this afternoon at the same time I was walking out, so I couldn’t ask her about how she’s been feeling. When I stood here in the living room for the most awkward two minutes of my life, I wondered if she was going to say anything to me. It also was about the same time I finally got my head out of my ass and realized I was in love with her. Like a fucking lightbulb went off in my head or a car coming straight at me. I didn’t just want her because she's having my baby. I want her because I love being with her. I want her because I love that she always makes me smile and laugh. I want her because she’s Ariella, she’s beautiful and kind. I also knew I couldn’t just tell her I was in love with her now, because she would probably think I was saying it just because of fucking Tiffany, which made me hate that bitch even more than I already did.
My hand comes out and I brush the hair that has fallen on her cheek away from her face. Before I lean in and softly kiss her lips. Fuck, I’ve missed her more than I can put into words. Not just being with her, but just fucking holding her hand. Being able to take her in my arms and hug her. Burying my face in her neck as she wraps her arms and legs around me. I missed this and I want it fucking back. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles softly at me. “Hi,” she mumbles, looking more beautiful than she has ever looked.
“Hi,” I return softly, my hand moving to her face. “I’m sorry I woke you.” My chest tightens when I think about leaning forward and kissing her, but not knowing if I should. Or if she wants me to. What if she hates me, the thought alone cuts me off at my knees.
“It’s okay,” she says, “I tried to wait up for you.”
“Yeah, it was a little later since I avoided the press,” I confess to her.
“Is that because you took two late penalties in the third period when you guys were only up by one?” she asks me. I look down, trying to hide the smile that is on my face.
“That would be it,” I admit to her. “You watched the game?”
“Well, yeah,” she replies and I get up and sit by her side on the couch, my hand going from her face to around her waist. “I was doing it while I unpacked the boxes.”
“I can see that.” I look around and spot a couple more things of hers that she put around the house. “You didn’t have to do it all in one night.”
“I had pent-up energy.” I look down at her, wanting to move her to her back and make love to her.
“I know how you feel,” I say softly and the two of us just stare at each other. I wait for her to say something while she is probably waiting for me to say something. But I’m so fucking scared to have this conversation, I avoid it. “I’m going to get something to eat. Are you hungry?”
“No,” she says. Her voice is so soft, it feels like it’s broken. “I think I’m going to head up to bed.”