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)
My stomach drops.
“Do you not want me to tell her?”
I shrug but shake my head at the same time. “I … I don’t know. Seems like a really bad time to lay this on her.”
“When would you suggest I mention it? At the wedding? Rehearsal dinner?”
I frown.
Murphy deflates. “I love you.”
I wait.
And wait.
“But?” I ask.
Murphy shakes his head slowly. “Alice, there’s no but. Those three words stand on their own without an explanation. I don’t need an excuse to love you.”
“You love her too.”
“I do.”
Every time we’re together, it gets harder to keep a brave face. He makes me want something real.
“You’ve loved her longer.”
“I’ve loved her for three years and four months. I’ve loved you for eight years and two months.”
I frown.
“Don’t give me that look. I knew the day your dad carried you out of my house that I might not ever see you again, but nothing would stop me from loving you for the rest of my life.”
“You can’t marry her and love me.”
“I can.”
Damn him and his all-encompassing heart.
“Doesn’t mean I’m going to.”
I can’t stop thinking about Hunter, Vera, and Blair. They have me on a pedestal the way I used to have Murphy on one. The betrayal would be crushing.
“Then do it. Marry her and love me.”
He furrows his brow.
“Bye, Murphy.” I turn, gripping my keys and holding my breath to keep it together.
He doesn’t trust me, but they do. I never imagined wanting someone’s trust so much, but I do. I want the Morrisons to feel good about hiring me since they now have this overwhelming gratitude.
Chapter Forty-Six
Murphy
If life were easy, what would be the point?
Marry her and love me?
What kind of advice was that?
Had Alice not reappeared in my life, I would marry Blair, have a family, and live a beautiful life. No questions. No doubt.
This is where there’s an all caps BUT.
Alice is back in my life, and my heart has not forgotten about her, nor has it stopped loving her.
When I met Blair, I was attracted to her talent, her beauty, and how she felt like a breath of fresh air when I desperately needed one. I felt confident and cool. My game was on point. My charm turned way up.
However, when I met Alice that day in the backyard of my rental, I was nervous, fumbling my words, blushing, and for two weeks she had me acting and feeling like a young boy crushing on the prettiest, most talented girl in school.
Eight years later, she makes me feel like that young boy again. Maybe it’s because she’s been a mystery. But I don’t know if I can solve her, and that’s why I can’t completely trust her. So I’m spying on her like I did when she was my renter.
Where is she going?
What is she doing?
And why?
While Blair splits her time between visiting her dad, finalizing wedding plans, and overseeing the construction of her gallery via video calls, I obsess over Alice’s every move.
Yesterday, she sat on a park bench, reading a book while kids played on the equipment and kicked soccer balls in the grass, and Canadian geese shit all over the concrete walking path that led to a fishing pond. I didn’t stay the whole time like a bona fide stalker. After satiating my curiosity, I went back to work.
Today, she’s meeting with a realtor to tour a house for sale in Edina, where the housing is not exactly cheap.
Is she moving? Quitting her job?
Why a house? Why here? If she quits her job, can she afford to live here?
This all should get filed under “It’s None of My Fucking Business,” but having sex with her, a few days ago, felt like I was making her my business.
I don’t stick around and risk her seeing me when she leaves the house. Instead, I message Blair. We need to talk.
When I arrive at the restaurant, Blair waves me over to a table on the patio.
“This is such an unexpected surprise,” she says before kissing me.
I hold out her chair for her to sit down again. “A lot has been going on, and I thought we should call a time-out, slow down, and talk.”
She releases a sigh that’s so big her shoulders drop an inch. Then she reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. Her glossed lips tip into a soft smile. “I took a pregnancy test.”
I’ve only had a handful of defining moments stand out in my life. The last one was eight years ago when my car hydroplaned after dinner with the most mesmerizing woman I’ve ever known. I thought nothing would change the course of my life more than that.
Until now.
Blair continues. “Waiting for the result was excruciating. I was scared out of my mind. I know we’ve discussed having kids—soon even—but Dad just had a heart attack, and the wedding isn’t for six more weeks. What if I’m nauseous and miserable? And what about my gallery? And moving to New York? I didn’t want to do any of this while carrying a baby. The stress wouldn’t be good for me or our baby.” Again, she sighs. “Then I realized nothing else matters. I was like … we’re having a baby. We can do this. I can do this. And a year from now, ten years from now, it won’t matter if the timing is a little off.”