Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
It doesn’t work, but I made a promise.
“So, Quinn,” Shelli says, and our eyes meet while I feel Ava tense up beside me. Just as anxious as I have been about his dinner, I know she is too—if not more anxious than I am. She told me she doesn’t want to fight with me, she wants this to be easy, but how can it be easy when my heart belongs to someone else? “How long have y’all been together?”
I swallow my bite as I answer. “A couple months, but we’ve known each other since residency.”
I watch as everyone nods, and Shelli asks, “Are you doing sports medicine too, Ava?”
Ava shakes her head. “No, I’m doing emergency medicine.”
“Nice,” Dad says, cutting me an impressed grin, but I can’t return it. “That’s long hours, though, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Dad waits for more, but when he realizes she’s not going to say anything, Shelli asks, “Are you from here?”
“I am,” Ava answers, and once more, she doesn’t elaborate. I sigh deeply before shooting her a look. Her eyes narrow as she shrugs. “I’m truly sorry. I’m a bit shy.”
I’m glad no one is looking at Benson, Cameron, Callie, or Evan, because I’m pretty sure one of them is two seconds from telling my parents the opposite. I swallow hard as I look at my parents and explain that she grew up here, that her parents are songwriters, and that they are nice people. I don’t know why I am making myself explain when she should be doing that, but I just want this to go well. I want my family to accept this because I’m doing it. There is no way out. I promised myself to Ava for a year of marriage.
And I’m a man of my word.
I told Emery I would love her for the rest of my life, and even with years of silence, nothing has changed. We may have both become true adults, but my heart still yearns for hers. My hands shake to touch her, and my lips cry out for hers. I look over the table where Benson sits so close to Cameron, she may as well be in his lap. They share heated looks, small grins, and just look so fucking in love, I’m burning with jealousy. I want what he was given, a second chance with the love of my life.
Because like Benson has with Cameron, I would grab hold of Emery and not let go.
I’d fall for the person she is now because our souls match.
Because she’s mine and I am hers.
Fuck, love hurts. But with Emery, it’s the only thing I know.
Yet I’m marrying someone else.
I clear my throat and push back from the table. “Excuse me.”
I don’t have to spare a glance at Ava to know she’s not sparing one for me. She’s too busy on her phone.
As I walk around the table toward the bathroom, Mom takes hold of my hand. “You okay, my love?”
I lean in, kissing her cheek. “Yeah, Momma. I’m fine.”
She smiles up at me, patting my cheek. “You’re lying.”
I grin. “Maybe.”
A sad smile replaces her genuine one as she whispers, “Does she not eat?”
I shrug. “Not heavy food like this.”
She makes a face. “Heavy? I don’t think it’s heavy.”
Cameron looks over at us, biscuit on her lips. “If this is heavy, call me heavy. I’ll be completely okay with that.”
I watch as Ava looks at Cameron. “I prefer salads.”
Mom starts to stand, but I stop her. “I can make you a salad. Tear up some of this chicken and put it on top.”
Posey nods. “And then add mashed potatoes.”
“And mac,” Cameron supplies.
“And a lot of biscuits and gravy,” Callie adds, and all the women nod in agreement.
Well, everyone but Ava.
I squeeze Mom’s hand as Ava insists she’s fine, and I head to the bathroom. When I shut the door, I lean my forehead against it as I draw in a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity. I let it out in a rush as I turn and slide down the door to sit on my ass. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go to Emery’s TikTok. I bring up my knees, leaning my forehead on my arm as I scroll through her videos. Not much has changed. She’s still gorgeous as ever. Thick in all the right ways, a round face, long, dark lashes, curly dark hair, and lips that I want to consume. She posts a lot of videos of her working with law enforcement and of her doing silly dances. Though her laughter is not audible, I don’t need it to remember how fucking great it sounded when she let it loose.
I click off her TikTok and go to her Instagram to look at all the photos she posts of her apartment, her job, and things she does in California. She has friends, lots of them, not that I’m surprised. She’s moving on, she’s living her life, just as I am, but my heart is in California. With her. I don’t feel like I’m truly living, only going through the daily motions of what I’m supposed to do.