Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Uh. . . no. Long day. Hungry?” I lift the obnoxious bag of Thai food.
“I don’t know if I can eat. My stomach is in knots.” I discard the food on the table and sit with her.
“What happened?”
My question triggers the waterworks. She starts to sob again. “He was the reason I picked up and left. He was so awful to me. I swore I was done with him, but tonight, I had a weak moment and called him. I miss him so much, ya know? He answered. But he didn’t want to talk to me. Told me he didn’t love me and to stop calling him. Said we’re done.” She falls forward, and I wrap my arms around her while she cries.
“I’m so sorry, Jen. Maybe it’s for the best. You deserve someone who’s going to dedicate all their love and attention to you. Not some jerk.”
She pulls back. “I gave him everything! Did everything he ever asked of me. He won’t even give me the time to explain what went wrong. He means the world to me, and now, he’s just gone.”
“Here.” I reach out and hand her a glass of wine. “Drink this. And fast.” She does. “You’ll meet someone, I promise, and this guy will be a thing of the past. He’ll treat you right and love you, and you won’t even remember this ex’s name.”
“Promise?”
I smile wide. “Promise. How does a movie sound? We can have a sleepover and stay up as late as we want. School night be damned.”
For the first time since she showed up, I get a smile out of her. “Deal.”
I reach for the remote and turn on the television. An old chick-flick is playing. I grab my wine.
“Hey, Mak?”
“Yeah?” I ask, pausing in my much-needed sip.
“What was your husband like?”
I settle against the couch, taking in her question. “Pre-cheating? He was great. Funny. Super giving. The kind of guy who brought home flowers for no reason. Very attentive. Always took me places. He traveled a lot for work, and sometimes he’d take me with him. Set me up at the pool or spa while he was in meetings, then took me to these fancy dinners at night. He’d have a bottle of champagne chilled in the room, and we would make the sweetest kind of love.” He made me feel wanted. Loved. And then it all stopped.
“How did you know he was cheating?”
My shoulders rise as I take in a deep breath. Releasing it, I respond. “He just stopped being him.” The flowers stopped. The trips stopped. He stopped seeing me. Wanting me. I shake my head. “He stopped trying to hide it, I guess.” I take a sip of my wine. “Or just got sloppy. There were hints. The stereotypical lipstick on collars. Smelling like perfume that wasn’t mine. Literally found receipts on our lawn that had fallen out of his coat.”
“Do you still speak to him?”
I take a large sip, draining half my glass. “No. After all the crazy stuff started happening, I threatened him with a restraining order. If he didn’t stop, I was going to call my lawyer. Doesn’t mean he listened, though. He still calls, begging. I blocked his number.”
Jenny grips her wine glass, anger in her eyes. “That asshole.”
“Right? He should have known what he had before he stepped out on our marriage.”
She refills her wine glass and clinks with mine. “Here’s to everyone getting what they truly deserve.”
I smile back. “I can cheers to that.” Finishing the rest of my wine, Jenny pours me a fresh glass, and we rest against the couch in silence to watch the movie.
She’s right. We both deserve to get what we want. And as crazy as it sounds, maybe that’s Ben. I peer over at Jenny, knowing I need to fess up. The weight of the past few days suddenly catches up to me, and I decide tomorrow is just as good of a time to spill the beans. I yawn into my glass.
“Don’t fall asleep on me. This is one of my favorite movies.”
“Not a chance. We have the whole bottle to finish.”
“Thanks for being such a good friend. I’m so glad to have you in my life.” She smiles brightly, then brings her attention back to the TV.
Tomorrow. I’ll confess tomorrow.
“Come out here, girl.”
I tuck my head between my legs and hold my breath so he can’t hear me from inside the pantry. “You’re gonna regret not listening, you little brat. Get out here now!” His footsteps pound through the kitchen. My body shakes, and I’m scared he’s going to figure out where I’m hiding. “You little bitch. When I find you, I’m gonna make you wish you were never born.”
I count to ten in my head. Counting always makes me feel better. It helps take my mind off the fear. The pain in my back from where his belt ripped at my skin. The floorboard to the first stair creaks. He’s headed upstairs in search of me. I count to thirty, open the pantry door, and rush toward the sliding glass door. I don’t look back and skid to the ground. Pushing the loose board in the fence to the side, I crawl through.