Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Four days ago, after Josie and I spent the Fourth of July together, I woke up to an empty bed.
After we had sex, she left at some point in the middle of the night, and ever since, she’s been avoiding me. I’ve tried to call her, text her, even showed up to CAFFEINE and her house a few times, but she’s been fucking Houdini, always disappearing before I get to her.
I’ve tried to play it cool, keep it together, but fuck, I’m hurting. I thought that night I’d finally gotten my wife back. She told me she loved me and I told her I loved her, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something as powerful and intense as that moment with her beneath me, her body bared and her eyes gazing into mine while we connected as one.
I had fallen asleep that night with Josie in my arms and happier than I’d ever been in my entire fucking life. And then, she was gone.
Sheriff Peeler moves from the bar to chat with Eileen Martin, and Marty and his wife join Betty and Earl on the dance floor. Lazy Lance is surrounded by a bunch of teenage girls, staring up at him with moony eyes, and Melba is over by the cake table, admiring her half-eaten creation.
I scan all of the tables, noting the names and faces of familiar folks from Red Bridge. And when I spot the back of Breezy’s black hair, I dart my eyes to the woman standing beside her, and my heart flips on its fucking side.
Josie.
I’ve watched her like a hawk all damn day, throughout the ceremony and during the first part of the reception. I’ve behaved myself. I’ve held back from confronting her about the other night. But now, it’s time.
My strides are steady as I walk across the tent and straight for her. She locks her eyes with mine, and I don’t miss the way her cheeks flush pink and she digs her top teeth into her lip. I can’t hear what Breezy is saying to her, but it doesn’t matter. Josie excuses herself from the conversation and starts walking in the opposite direction of me.
Yeah. No. I don’t fucking think so.
I navigate through the crowd, just barely brushing past Breezy, and Josie picks up her pace.
So, I pick up my fucking pace. And I don’t stop until I’m reaching out to grab Josie by the wrist and stop her. “Josie.”
“Now isn’t the time, Clay,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Oh, but now is the time,” I retort and gently tug her wrist so that she’ll look at me. When our eyes lock, it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the air. “I deserve an explanation.”
“Don’t make a big thing of it, okay?” she says, her facial expression neutral and cool. “It was just one night. It didn’t mean anything.”
Didn’t mean anything? Bullshit. I know her well enough to know this is just a mask. It’s just a calculated cover for her true emotions. She told me she loved me. She told me she wanted me. She told me she needed me. And when I was inside her, she’d gripped my shoulders, holding my body against hers as tightly as she could.
Her green eyes were bright and vivid and filled with so much fucking love and emotion. They were a distinct reminder of the past. The way she used to look at me, before everything went to shit.
“Stop lying to yourself, Josie,” I order and tug her closer to me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I don’t miss the way her breaths come out in heavy pants. “That night meant every-fucking-thing, and you know it. I know it. We both fucking know it. So why did you leave? Why did you run? Why have you spent the last four goddamn days avoiding me?”
“Just leave it be,” she says, her voice a whisper, and her green eyes look glassy with emotion. “That night shouldn’t have happened, okay? It just shouldn’t have happened.”
“You’re wrong, Josie,” I tell her and keep her eyes locked in my gaze. “That night should’ve happened a long fucking time ago. You and I aren’t supposed to be apart. We’re supposed to be together, and the way that night felt proves it. You’re my wife, and I’m your husband.” My voice is harsh and soft at the same time, charged with all the feelings I’ve been trying to keep under control for the past five fucking years that we’ve been apart. “I’m your husband. I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I won’t ever fucking stop. Do you hear me? Not ever.”
She starts to open her mouth, starts to say something, but I don’t want to hear it. Refuse to hear it. So I just kiss her. I press my mouth to hers and kiss my wife.