Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Don’t you have an office nook upstairs?” He yawned and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“It became a place to dump laundry and trash.”
He snorted and leaned back against the counter. “We should probably start demanding more of Hallie and Dylan. Hell, even the other two. I feel like you do too much for them.”
All right, so it was this version of Ash I was seeing today. Yesterday’s version had barely spoken a word to me. Not because of any conflict or tension; he’d just been busy on his phone.
“Well, I did tell Dylan his new responsibility around here is to mow the lawn,” I admitted.
Ash gestured his mug in the general direction of the backyard. “That little patch of grass out there? If I were you, I’d add the upstairs bathroom—it’s mostly his hair products and body spray turning it into a biohazard anyway.”
I let out a chuckle, unable to help it. He had a point.
“What’re Hallie’s chores these days?” he asked.
“She doesn’t have any, because she’s fucking weird. She helps out voluntarily.”
What fourteen-year-old girl did that?
“That is weird.” He frowned. “Mark my words, she’s gonna be one of those type A personalities who can pick any college she wants.”
She sort of already was. More often than not, I had to remind her to rest. And I did do that. She had stressful years ahead of her; she needed to relax while she could.
Ash checked his watch. “All right, I’mma go wake up the little ones.”
I nodded. “I’ll make breakfast. But, uh—you mentioned something about your house earlier.”
“Oh, right.” He took a final swig of his coffee before setting it on the counter. “I’m on my last projects. I’ve got a big furniture delivery tomorrow, and Kingsley’s helping me repair whatever’s causing the light fixtures to be on the fritz upstairs. It’s driving me batshit.”
Oh God, he was almost done, in other words.
“I need a couple of weeks, and then we can sit down with the kids,” he finished.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to nod. “Okay.”
We’d reached the end. In two weeks, this whole game of pretend would be over. Hallie and Dylan would officially move in to the rooms they’d already decorated at Ash’s house. It would be their second home. And Micah and Lily would learn that Daddies were getting a divorce. They’d find out they were moving too.
“One more thing,” he said, turning around in the doorway. “I’ll fight you on the National Parks Passport.”
I blanched. So he was already thinking about the memories we’d divide.
It felt like something died inside me right there. No pain or anger tore through me. It just…died.
Maybe it was the last shred of hope.
“You can have it,” I muttered, lowering my gaze to my work planner again.
Fuck everything.
“They have the passports over here, love.”
I remember Dylan and Hallie showing zero interest in the National Parks Passport, but it’d felt like a new tradition starting to me. And it had. That little book had seen places. It’d been at the top of every packing list before a vacation.
“Okay, let’s get one,” you said with a smile. “Where do we get it stamped?”
“Somewhere around here. I’ll ask.”
Today, as I hold the little book in my hands, it’s never looked better. The edges of the blue cover are a bit tattered. Countless pages are filled with stamps and stickers. Small doodles in the margins from all the kids too.
Yet, so many pages waiting for us to visit.
A breath gusts out of me as I realize it’s a symbol of our life story.
Just like with the passport, it will be unfinished.
CHAPTER 16
Two days ago
Fairfax
Ash Riley
“Are you shittin’ me?” I exclaimed.
“What?” James asked, startled.
I grabbed the offending little duck from inside my lunch container and held it up. “I’ve fucking had it with these things, man. They’re not my daughter’s, they don’t come from any kid who occasionally stops by the office, and they’re sure as fuck not mine.”
Someone was fucking with me, and I couldn’t figure out who.
Had this been a recent thing, I would’ve suspected one of the brats in Mclean. But this had been going on for months now.
I jumped off the tailgate of my work truck and strode over to the nearest dumpster, where I threw it away. We were in the middle of a worksite, so I didn’t suspect anyone here of messing with me, that was for damn sure.
Motherfucker. Now I couldn’t eat my lunch in peace without seeing a goddamn duck?
They’d been varying in color lately too. Before, they were all yellow, but I’d found blue ones, pink ones, and green ones as well. This one had been blue.
“Should we go through your list of enemies?” James joked.
“I don’t have enemies. I’m too lovable.” I huffed and returned my attention to my turkey casserole. “That said, I do have a short list of suspects.”