Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I froze. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, for someone who went dress shopping today, you seem a bit…down. Shouldn’t that have put you in a good mood?”
How could I look my fiancé in the eyes and tell him I was down because the mere mention of a color had sent me into a tailspin over an old boyfriend?
Casey didn’t know too many details about the Dorian Vanderbilt heartbreak. When I met Casey, I told him I’d had a boyfriend back in California and things had ended badly. I never mentioned Dorian’s name; although Casey knew the man I’d dated was Christina’s stepson. Whenever he’d pry, I’d shy away from the details. There were no words to properly describe the betrayal I’d felt when I moved out of the mansion. What happened with Dorian had made me forever doubt my judgment. The one time I’d decided to trust someone had backfired.
The situation with Casey, though, was different than anything that had come before it. Since my pregnancy with Rosie was accidental, at first he and I might’ve been together out of a sense of obligation. But over time, he’d proven trustworthy. If the situation had been different, I might’ve broken up with Casey before I had the chance to learn what a stand-up guy he really was. While I’d always be scarred by Dorian, I was truly working on not taking out my fears and bad experiences on a good man who didn’t deserve it.
If my relationship with Dorian had been like a fast-moving luxury boat that wound up on stormy seas, my time with Casey was a smooth tugboat ride on a sunny day, slow and steady. Casey was dependable, loving, and a damn good father. I had no regrets, even if the level of passion I’d once experienced with the man who broke me was something I didn’t have with my current partner. But you know what? That kind of fire only gets you burned. Casey was a warm breeze that kept me comfortable and safe. That’s what I needed in my life.
“Do you not feel fulfilled?” he suddenly asked.
Feeling ashamed and, sadly, also somewhat seen, I said, “Why would you ask that?”
“I know you’re not really practicing your art, and we don’t have the space for a studio.”
Relief washed over me as I realized he wasn’t referring to our relationship.
“What, you don’t think drawing animals to order for kids is my life’s dream?” I teased.
About a year ago, I’d decided I needed to do something for myself. I was a stay-at-home mom with a two-year-old and going a bit stir crazy. So, I’d started a business called Paint with Primrose. I’d travel to kids’ birthday parties, paint their faces, paint animals to order, and do caricatures of people. Turns out there was a real market for it. I’d put up fliers around the city and often found myself booked at least two Saturdays a month. The extra money was helpful, but mostly it saved my sanity. It certainly wasn’t perfecting my talent, but it was a way to make some extra cash and keep my creative well from running completely dry.
“I’m sorry if I seem a little sad today. There’s no good reason for it,” I assured him. “Just one of those days.” I shook my head. “I suppose sometimes I think back to my life in California and the amount of free time I had to explore my art and miss it. But the truth is, nothing is stopping me from picking it back up again.”
Well, nothing besides the artistic drive I seemed to have lost. Dorian had taken my creativity with him. Something had died inside me the day he broke my heart, and I hadn’t been able to get it back.
“Well, if you ever want to go out back and do your thing in the sunroom on Sundays, I’ll take Rosie to one of those indoor kids’ gyms so you can work in peace.”
I smiled. Casey was so thoughtful. He worked hard during the week but was eager to spend time with his daughter any chance he got. It would’ve been smart of me to take him up on his offer of some alone time on Sundays. That room was at the back of the house and mostly used for storage. It was surrounded by windows that let the sun in beautifully, and I’d often toyed with the idea of turning it into an art space. Maybe this was my chance to see that through.
“I really appreciate that.” I reached up on my tippy toes to kiss him. “And I appreciate you. Thank you.”
“I love you, baby,” he said before walking away to join our daughter in the living room.
After he left, guilt settled in my stomach. I hated not being a hundred-percent honest with him. At the same time, some things were better kept inside, weren’t they? Especially when my inner thoughts and feelings didn’t always make sense. Like still being affected by a man who’d treated me like dirt.