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)
As I sat in the pickup line, waiting for Rosie to appear with her teacher, my mind continued to race. Dorian had looked so handsome. Perhaps my memory of him had faded just enough to make me forget exactly how stunning he was. He had the same gorgeous mane of black hair, the same beautiful face, and the same amazing smell. And he also had the same ability to make me feel things I knew I should be forgetting.
The back door of my car opened, and I forced a huge smile as Rosie arrived.
“She had a great day,” her teacher said.
“That’s awesome!”
Rosie handed me a picture she’d drawn. It looked like a colorful fish.
“So nice, honey. You’re really getting good at drawing. Good job.”
“She’s on her way to becoming an artist like her mom.” Mrs. Harrington winked.
After the teacher shut the car door, I looked in the rearview mirror at Rosie’s little face. Her cheeks were red. She loved school, but she also looked forward to coming home each day. Such a happy girl. My daughter was an absolute joy.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
She jumped in her seat. “Yes!”
I put the car in drive and drove off. “What do you feel like for lunch today?”
“Peanut butter and fluff!”
“That’s very sugary. How about peanut butter and banana?”
She pouted. “Fluff!”
“I’ll give you a little fluff and some banana on a peanut butter sandwich, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.” She smiled.
My sweet baby, oblivious to the emotional dilemma pummeling her mother right now. She deserved better than to be in the middle of this.
After we got to the house and parked, I looked around my quiet neighborhood street, feeling paranoid. Dorian knew where I lived. Had he been here before today? It freaked me out that he’d been staying nearby, and I hadn’t known. How long had he been here? I supposed these were all questions I needed to ask him on Friday.
I put on a TV show for Rosie in the living room, and I realized I’d left the vacuum out, since Dorian showing up at my door had distracted me from putting it away. I returned it to the utility closet and went to the kitchen to make her sandwich.
As I spread peanut butter on two slices of whole wheat bread, my mind wandered. Before I knew it, I’d been spreading the peanut butter around for three minutes, and I’d nearly ruined the bread. I added a little marshmallow fluff and layered it with half a banana, thinly sliced.
I washed a small bunch of red grapes and cut each one in half, since I worried Rosie could choke if I left them whole. I could be so responsible in some aspects of my life, yet so very irresponsible in others, like—I don’t know—planning to visit an ex-boyfriend while my daughter was at school on Friday. I cringed at the thought.
After carrying the food over to Rosie, I sat and watched her eat as she enjoyed her video. If I was physically present right now, that might make up for the fact that my mind was still on Dorian.
I gently patted her hair as she devoured the sandwich.
“What should we have for dinner tonight?” I asked.
She answered the way she always did.
“Spaghetti.”
“Will you eat little trees with it if I make you spaghetti?”
Little trees was what we called broccoli around here.
She nodded.
“Deal, then.”
Spaghetti was likely all I could manage tonight anyway. If tasked with cooking anything that required me to follow directions, I’d ruin the whole thing. I needed to give myself grace for now. Maybe tomorrow night, too. Or as long as whatever the hell was going on with Dorian lasted.
As I took Rosie’s plate back to the sink, I realized I hadn’t formally committed to meeting him. So there was still a chance I could back out. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I reached for my phone and pulled up his name before I could change my mind.
Would you be available to meet with me Friday around 8:15 in the morning?
His response was almost immediate.
Dorian: Absolutely. Thank you for making time for me. Where would you like to meet?
Primrose: I can come to the address where you’re staying.
Going to his place felt even more forbidden, but there was really no other choice; being in public with him would be too risky.
Dorian: Great.
Primrose: See you then.
Dorian: See you Friday.
Letting out a long exhale, I pushed the phone away, forcing myself to return to life at hand. I called to Rosie. “Wanna go play outside?”
“Okay!”
I grabbed our jackets, vowing not to think about Dorian again until I had to.
CHAPTER 21
* * *
Guilt and dread twisted in my stomach as I dropped Rosie off at preschool Friday morning. When the teacher came out to get her, I waved to my daughter, feeling like a fraud. I hadn’t told Casey what I was doing this morning. I’d decided not to mention anything until I understood what was going on. I didn’t want to alarm him, and this felt like something I had to do without any outside voices complicating the matter. Also, Casey was under a lot of work stress lately, and this would only compound that. Keeping business as usual on the homefront seemed like the best idea.