Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Good. Justin had a one-on-one with Ralph, and he won,” he says to her, “and then I played basketball, and I scored a three-pointer.”
She smiles down at him, and he doesn’t see the redness in her eyes or on the tip of her nose. “Did you score all the points one after another?”
“No, Mom,” he says, going to the fridge and opening it, his eyes going wide. “The fridge is full.” And it’s at that moment my heart sinks for her. This woman who puts on the bravest face is now having all of it in front of me. “Can I have a Yop?” he asks, wanting a yogurt drink.
“Yes,” she says and then looks at me. “Was everything okay?”
“Yes.” I want to take her in my arms and kiss her softly and hold her and be her rock. I’m about to bring up the fact that her phone was off and that I tried to call her when the front door suddenly opens, and I turn to see who it is. I don’t have to guess for long when I hear Dylan yell.
“Dad!” he says, running to this guy standing there with dirty clothes and stringy hair. His arms are bare and skinny, and you can see the scabs on the inside creases of his arms.
Dylan wraps his arms around his waist, but the guy doesn’t even notice because his gaze is fixated on me. I’m watching him, but more importantly, I feel Caroline stiffen beside me.
“Who is this?” the man finally asks. It’s almost as if he’s accusing us of something. I want to step in front of Caroline, but before I can do that, she speaks up.
“He’s nobody, and he was just leaving.” Her voice comes out strong and firm. I look at her. “Thank you for bringing Dylan home. We’ll see you tomorrow.” And just like that, my heart breaks for the woman who I thought was mine.
Chapter Twelve
Caroline
My day went from amazing to kick in the stomach yet again. And I’m suddenly reminded not to ever get my hopes up again. Every single time I think things are looking up, someone somewhere says “Not today.”
I got my groceries for just under a hundred dollars. With the leftover food stamps that I had and shopping the sales, I was winning. Then I was about to cook dinner and thinking of doing something nice for Justin after everything he’s done for me, but when I went to call him, I got sent to the collections department. Since it was my third time being late, they couldn’t do anything unless I paid off the total due, which at this time was going to be impossible. I had just hung up the phone when I heard a knock on the door, and when I opened it, Justin stood there with a worried look on his face.
I avoided eye contact, knowing full well he could probably tell I’ve been crying again. But then everything happened so fast—the joy of Dylan finally seeing the old fridge full to the front door swinging open. Andrew’s eyes went straight to Justin, and the only thing I could think of was to get him as far away from Andrew as I possibly could.
“He’s nobody, and he was just leaving,” I say in my firmest voice possible. Justin turns his head to look at me, and I see the hurt in his eyes, but it’s better this way. “Thank you for bringing Dylan home. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He looks at me one last time before nodding and turning to walk out of the apartment. The sound of the door softly closing behind him is almost too much for me. Heading to the kitchen, I turn on the tap to get some water, and the whole time, I’m fighting the stinging of tears in my eyes.
“So is that a new boyfriend?” Andrew asks, and I don’t turn to him. “Dylan, go to your room while your mom and me talk.”
“But, Dad,” he says but then just walks away. I wait for the door to close before I turn around and look at him.
“Get the fuck out,” I say in a voice so soft it’s like a whisper.
“Oh, what’s the matter, Caroline? Sad that your boyfriend left with his tail between his legs.” He taunts me. “I should remind you that we are still married.”
“Really?” I say. “I should have reminded you about that when Dylan was six months old and you fucked the sorority girls, or when he was two and your girlfriend showed up in the middle of the night.” I put up my hand. “No, it was when I walked in on you fucking our landlady when Dylan was three.”
“That was a mistake!” he shouts, and I just shake my head.
“I don’t even care,” I say. “What are you doing here?”