Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“You didn’t wait for me. You left me. And I’m not blaming you. What happened to you is horrible. I just need things between us to be clear, and what’s clear is I waited for you.”
“Murphy, I don’t think things will ever be clear between us. They will forever be about as clear as that water.” I nod to the mossy green water edged with algae. “But if you must know, I returned to Minneapolis for you, but you were gone. The rental was sold. Your neighbors knew nothing of your whereabouts, and the one gallery I found that once had your art didn’t know where you’d moved. So I waited. Rented an apartment. Got a job. And settled into the area. Then I waited. I waited and waited. Until …”
“You’re not being serious.”
I give him a quick sidelong glance and smirk. “Well, I wish I weren’t. I’m not usually so sappy and pathetic.”
He grips my arm, making me stop and look at him. A couple walking their dog pass us on the left.
“You waited until what? Until when?”
I’m still waiting.
“Until my boss’s daughter came home for the summer with her fiancé.”
Murphy squints, shaking his head. “That’s a lie. You were with Callen.”
“I’m not marrying him.”
“You’re mad because I’m marrying Blair?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course not.”
“Then what?”
“Then nothing. You followed me.”
“Because I was concerned after what your mom said.”
I tip up my chin. “I’m not your concern.”
“It’s just a public service.”
I don’t want to grin, but damn him for saying that. “Shut up.” I start walking again.
“I’m scared,” he says, staying a few steps behind me.
“Of the boogie man?”
“No.”
“Of Blair leaving you at the altar?”
“No. I’m scared I’m going to royally fuck up my life before I ever get to the altar.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“It’s an us problem.”
I laugh. “There is no us.”
“And yet, here we are.”
“Because you’re following me.”
“Then stop walking away.”
“So you can catch me?”
“Maybe.”
My heart lurches into my throat. Why is he saying that? He doesn’t mean it. I break into a jog.
“Want me to chase you?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer.
And he doesn’t chase me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alice
Moms are like best friends—
only brutally honest.
“Where did you go?” Mom asks when I return.
“For a walk around the lake. I didn’t know how long you’d be enjoying Vera’s massage chair.”
She twirls her red hair around her finger and grins. “It’s a nice chair.”
I toe off my shoes and grab a glass of water. “So what brings you to Minneapolis?”
“You, of course.”
“You’re here to see me for no particular reason?” I gulp half the glass of water.
“I am. It’s called being a mom. I didn’t stop loving you and wanting to be with you just because you decided to become an adult.”
“What are you talking about?” I set the glass on the counter and sit on the opposite end of the sofa. “I have yet to decide to be an adult. I hear it’s overrated.”
She laughs. “Horribly overrated. I actually have PTO to use, so I took five days to visit my favorite person in the world.”
“But Henry Cavill was busy, so you’re visiting me instead?”
“Exactly.” She tugs the decor pillow out from behind her back and throws it at me.
I catch it and giggle. “I’m honored. And I’m glad you’re here. Had I known, I would have taken some time off. They’ll still probably let me work some half days so we can hang out.”
“Can they be without their homemaker for very long?” She shoots me the hairy eyeball.
“This might be the best job ever. It’s like a job in the theater only there is no standing ovation. I have a costume with an apron, and I wear my hair in a sleek 1950s ponytail.”
“Well, now I want to see your performance.”
I smirk. “I bet you’ll get invited to breakfast or dinner where you can see me in action.”
She sighs. “My daughter, the homemaker. I couldn’t be more proud.” I sense a lot of sarcasm in her tone.
“Well, I have no rent. And I make a lot more than you do, so mock me if you must, but it’s a damn good job.”
Her eyes widen.
“But if I could request that you not overshare every little detail about my life, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sweetie, the car accident is hardly a little detail. And you’re the one who told them you were in a mental hospital. Why did you do that?”
“Because I like toying with them. Getting a reaction. And I knew they’d be more likely to believe that it was a joke than the truth.”
“You’re a pill, young lady. And I was nervous about seeing the man who called us to come get you the night you had a breakdown. Murphy, right? Have you said anything to him yet?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s out in the open, at least between us. But now it’s just weird.”