Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I dropped the pages to the counter and closed my eyes.
The words were still there—I could see them. Hear them in her voice. Feel the weight of them.
She was right. Trusting someone did take bravery—and I’d been a coward. I’d run from it.
And after everything, she still thought I was a good man. She was grateful to me, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t deserve her love or her gratitude or the kindness she’d shown me. Her heart was too big and soft—how could she go around with a heart like that? Someone like me was going to come along and crush it!
I wanted to protect it. I wanted to make her feel safe again. I wanted that pie.
More than anything, I wanted her back.
But how could I ask her to trust me when I didn’t even trust myself?
Torn and frustrated, I pulled out my phone and texted Mack.
Hey. You have time to meet me for a beer by any chance?
Sure. No kids this weekend. Time and place?
Hop Lot at 7?
See you there.
When I arrived Mack was already at the bar, nursing a beer and chomping on some wings.
“Hey,” I said, taking the stool next to his. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Any excuse for wings. Help yourself.”
I ordered a beer but found my stomach in too many knots to eat.
“Not hungry?” Mack asked in surprise.
“Not really.”
“You okay?” Mack knew that nothing short of life-threatening illness would curb my appetite. Even after the worst days in Afghanistan, we’d go eat an MRE and find something to laugh about. Anything to avoid stopping to think.
“No.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I can’t get Stella out of my head.”
“Ah.” Mack sipped his beer.
“I swear to fucking God, Mack, all I’ve done is try to turn this shit off and forget about her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it’s like I’m sick or something. Or trapped. I can’t move.”
“They don’t call it falling for nothing,” Mack quipped.
“I’m serious.” I stared at the bottle of beer in front of me, but I didn’t even feel like drinking it. “Tell me what to do to make this go away.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter what I say, Woods. You’re in love with her. Words don’t cure it.”
“What does?”
He thought for a second, his beer halfway to his mouth. “Marriage.”
I managed a grim smile. “Right.”
“Look, why don’t you give it another try? Maybe things will be different this time.”
“Only if I’m different. And I’m not. She wants all these things I can’t give her. She wants me to be someone else.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I wasn’t, but I felt like I needed to place the blame elsewhere. If I could pin my failure to be a better man on her unattainable expectations, it would be easier. “Yes. She wants a husband and family man, and that’s not me.”
“Says who?”
“Says my relationship with my father, because it was shit and I don’t know how to be a dad.”
“No one does. Next.”
“Says my ex. She flat out told me I was a shitty husband and incapable of love.”
“Christ, Woods. Do you want me to list all the names Carla has called me? All her grievances about what a horrible man I am? How callous and mean? How clueless and incapable? And you want to hear the latest?”
“What?”
“Now she says she’ll move back home without the kids. Says maybe I’ll appreciate her more if I know what it’s like to be a full-time parent on my own.”
“Fuck. Really?”
“Really.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her to go. Said I didn’t need her.”
I stared at him. “You did?”
“Yeah. Then I hung up and freaked the fuck out. I don’t want to be a full-time single dad. I probably won’t last a week.”
“Yes, you will. You’ll last as long as it takes to raise those girls. I know you.” I finally picked up my beer and took a long pull.
“What about you?”
“I don’t know. Half of me wants to try again, even if I fail, and the other half says leave her alone. Maybe she’s fine down there in Detroit. Maybe I’m the only one suffering.”
“Somehow I doubt that. I saw her face that night at Bayside. That girl is gone over you, for some reason.”
I shook my head. “Asshole.”
“We are. So if somebody like Stella thinks she can put up with us, we don’t fucking mess around.”
I took another drink and made up my mind. “Okay. I’ll try again.”
I fell asleep on the couch, missing her like I always did.
Thirty-Four
Grams
Well, this was just getting ridiculous. For God’s sake, my ninety-third birthday was coming up! How long did they think I wanted to wait to see them together?
I’d already observed Mr. Woods moping around in my yard, pretending he didn’t see me. I’d run into Daphne Sawyer again downtown and idly inquired about him. She said he was diligent and reliable as ever, but it did seem to her he’d been a bit melancholy. And I’d given Stella a call just this afternoon to see how she was feeling. I told myself I wouldn’t bring him up—but I’d bet anything she would. Then I’d know for sure if I should give it one more try.