Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
On the drive home, I let Georgie know we have a special guest at home and that she needs to be on her best behavior because Gigi isn’t feeling very well. And the moment the words are out of my mouth, Georgie’s little face lights up, realizing she can finally use her doctor kit on a real patient.
When we get home, Georgie runs up the stairs as fast as her little legs will take her, then because she can’t reach the handle yet, she stomps her feet when it takes me too long to get to the door.
As soon as I open the door, she bolts inside with an excited squeal, and I cringe, hoping like fuck Georgie doesn’t wake Gigi. I’ll have to talk to her again about following instructions.
Heading into the kitchen, I dump the shopping bags on the counter when I hear a shuffling coming from the couch and groan, having no doubt Georgie is in there bugging Gigi. Making my way into the living room, I prepare to tell Georgie to scram when I find her sitting up in Gigi’s lap, begging her to put her shows on.
Gigi glances up at me, and I let out a relieved sigh seeing the color has returned to her cheeks and the painkillers have been taken. A soft smile spreads across her face, and I perch myself on the armrest of the couch, unable to take my gaze off her. “How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Better,” she tells me, her voice not so hoarse anymore. “My head still hurts, but the painkillers helped a lot.”
“Good,” I smile. “Are you hungry?”
She nods her head and is about to say something when Georgie demands her undivided attention, and with my girls settled, I go back to the kitchen and try to figure out this damn soup.
As I cook, I listen in amusement as Georgie runs out of the living room, disappears, and returns a moment later with her doctor kit in her hand. “Oh, Georgie,” I hear dramatically from Gigi as my little girl laughs. “I’m so sick. If only there was a doctor around.”
Georgie squeals in delight and I cringe, betting that the noise is killing Gigi’s head. “Lay down,” Georgie demands. “Sick people have to lie down. That’s what my daddy says.”
After twenty minutes and two glorious tantrums from Georgie, we sit at the table to eat, and I can’t tear my eyes away from Gigi as she curiously looks around. “You’re dying to go exploring, aren’t you?” I say, a grin creeping across my face, loving that she’s nosey.
A guilty expression cuts across her beautiful face, her eyes shining with laughter as she returns her gaze to me. “I might be,” she admits. “But you can’t blame me. A girl has to go snooping to make sure there are no glaring red flags hidden away.”
I laugh, more than happy to show her it all. “I’ll give you the grand tour as soon as you’re done.”
“Thank you,” she mouths across the table. I give her a wink and watch in delight as her cheeks flush the most stunning shade of red.
As soon as we’ve finished, I clear the table and take her hand. I lead her around the house, showing off the home Sara and I built together.
Starting from the bottom, I lead her down into the basement that’s been transformed into a home gym and bachelor pad, somewhere Tom and I usually take advantage of on game nights. Next up, I take her around the ground level, which she’s pretty much already seen, but when we start climbing the stairs, a strange nervousness creeps into my chest, knowing exactly what she’ll see when she reaches the top.
Gigi pauses at the very top of the stairs, taking in the huge canvas print of Sara and me on our wedding day, and I stand in silence, unsure of what to say as I watch her. She studies it, taking in every inch of the canvas, and I try to work out what the hell is going through her head, but she’s giving nothing away.
It’s a strange feeling, standing here with my girlfriend while looking at my wife, but just like any time I’m in front of a picture of Sara, that familiar pain plagues my heart, and I can’t help but stare into those blazing blue eyes I miss so much.
I get distracted looking at the old picture when Gigi squeezes my hand and gives me a warm smile. “She was beautiful, Sean,” she tells me. “Georgie is . . . they could have been twins.”
“That, they could,” I tell her, and with that, I lead her down the hall and show her the rest of my home—the home I’ve always been so proud of.
Chapter 19
GIGI
This place is amazing. I’ve been in Sean’s home all day, and even now, at the end of the night tucking Georgie in bed, I still can’t come to terms with how magnificent it is. Every corner I turn, every new room, just blows me away.