Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I will.”
“And let me know when you’re home.”
I nodded. “I will.”
He moved to me next, hugging me tightly, as if he was saying goodbye to me like he had to say goodbye to his son.
It was the happiest I’d ever been, being in his arms. I closed my eyes, inhaled his scent, and nearly burst into tears. This man was home to me. He was my best friend. He was everything.
He pulled away and gave me a final look. “Alright.”
I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. I couldn’t be professional. This man had infected me like a disease until he completely took me over. There was no vaccine or cure that could ever rid my body of him…and I never wanted to get rid of him anyway. I wanted to be sick, sick with him. My patience had fallen to zero. My restraint had broken. I couldn’t wait another day, another week. I couldn’t act as if he was just a friend and client…when he was my whole world.
I had to force myself to look away, to grab Derek’s luggage and pretend my heart wasn’t so full that it might explode. “Come on, Derek… Let’s go.”
Thirteen
Deacon
I was sitting in my office when Cleo’s text popped up on my phone. Just dropped him off.
It had been painful to say goodbye to him again, but now that I was hopeful for a better future, it didn’t break my heart like it did the first time. In time, I could get Valerie out here so I would never have to say goodbye again. Thanks.
I got back to work, looking over my spreadsheets for a few hours.
My phone rang.
Valerie’s name was on the screen.
It was almost five o’clock, and I was tired. To top it off, I’d skipped lunch, so I was starving. After hearing Derek make negative comments about her, I wasn’t thrilled to talk to her. She didn’t put sunscreen on my son, let him eat shit at the gas station, and didn’t do anything productive with him. It was hard not to be resentful—in addition to all the other reasons I despised her.
But there would be repercussions if I didn’t take her call. “Hey, Valerie. How are you?” The book told me to always start a conversation that way, to project a feeling of warmth, even if the other person meant nothing to you.
“Good. It’s so nice to have Derek back.”
“I’m sure it is. We had a great time. Thanks for letting me have him for as long as I did.” I shouldn’t have to thank her. It was fucking obnoxious, bending over for this bitch like some kind of pussy.
“Of course,” she said in her gentle voice.
I waited for her to say something else. If she had nothing else to say, I’d rather wrap up this conversation and finish my paperwork.
“Derek talks about Cleo a lot…”
My chest tightened, remembering what Cleo had said a few weeks ago. She’d warned me this would be a problem and I didn’t really understand it, but I’d heard that tone from Valerie enough times to know that if I didn’t tread carefully, a hurricane wouldn’t strike.
“He said she was with you all weekend at the cabin.” There was no question, only accusation.
I didn’t say anything.
“Deacon, are you sleeping with her?”
I was extremely annoyed by the question, because who I fucked was really none of her business. “No.”
“Then why was she at your cabin all weekend, Deacon?”
“Because none of your business.” I tried to control my temper, but I couldn’t. I’d moved across the fucking country to get away from her, and she was still suffocating me. “Who are you fucking, Valerie?” The second those divorce papers were signed, I stopped giving a damn about her—completely and utterly. I couldn’t care less where she slept at night, who was nailing her in the bed I used to sleep in.
She was quiet, but the waves were coming. The wind was picking up. Her storm was about to crest the horizon. “I deserve to know who’s spending time with my son—”
“You don’t deserve to know shit, Valerie.” I got to my feet, running my hand through my hair while my nostrils flared. When I faced the window, I saw my own reflection, saw how ugly I looked when I was angry like this. “I don’t stick my nose in your business. Don’t stick your nose is mine—”
“You’re playing with fire, Deacon—”
“Then let me get burned. You’ve already burned me enough as it is.” I hung up the phone and threw it at one of the bookshelves. I turned back to the window and pressed my forehead to the glass, the stitching in my chest tight, the anxiety and frustration making all my veins constrict as my blood pressure skyrocketed. “Fucking bitch.” I hated her, hated her so goddamn much. It didn’t matter how far away I moved, she would always be a stick up my ass, always a thorn in my side. She continually used Derek against me, in the exact same way she did when she purposely got pregnant with him. It was like a leash around my neck, keeping me close, keeping me well behaved, like a fucking dog. If I ever truly wanted to be free of her, I’d have to give up Derek…and I couldn’t do that. So, she would torture me—forever. She’d sink her claws into me like she still owned me, like I was still her husband, when I’d never loved her a single day of our lives.