Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I grinned and shook my head.
I reckoned it was safe to say we’d get good numbers today.
The following Tuesday, for the first time ever, I had Haley, Nikki, and Jake at my condo at the same time. Well, technically, they were waiting downstairs on the street, but still.
Casper was buzzing with excitement as we took the elevator down. He had his backpack on—and a tight grip on his little rollaboard case.
I tightened my hold on the twins’ car seats. Adam was napping, and Callie was chewing on her foot.
“Sleepover, sleepover, sleepover,” Cas whispered to himself and shook his butt in the mirror.
I grinned. “Hey, buddy?”
He looked up at me with his own grin.
“I love you,” I said.
He giggled and shook his butt again. “I love youuuuu. Sleepover!”
That boy. Fucking hell, he made my heart happy.
The sun had just set as we exited the building, and Casper rushed over to Nikki’s SUV. “Hi, Aunt Nikki! Hi, Aunt Haley! I’m ready for sleepover!”
“Hiii, sweetheart. Good, because so are we. We’re gonna have so much fun.” Nikki swooped him up and grabbed the rollaboard from him. “You see Uncle Jake over there?” She pointed to the next truck, where Jake waited with a smile and a two-finger wave. “Tell him we’re gonna turn his house upside down.”
Casper laughed madly. “We gon’ make a mess!”
“I’ll make you clean up soon as Daddy and I come home,” Jake threatened playfully.
They all made my heart happy. These were my people. My family.
Haley helped me fasten the twins’ seats in the back of Nikki’s car, and I smooched their foreheads gently. I would miss them, but I knew they were in good hands.
Before long, the ladies wished us all the luck for the awards, and then they were off to pick up Colin and Sam at Nikki’s place. Her mom was in town, so everyone was getting spoiled for dinner.
“You look tired, darlin’,” Jake said.
I blew out a breath. I didn’t come closer, ’cause I had to go upstairs again. “I’ll tell you all about it on the plane. I’m just gonna grab my bag and probably get into another fight with Sandra.”
He winced and smiled sympathetically. “Take your time.”
I nodded with a dip of my chin and reluctantly returned upstairs.
With no kids around, I didn’t have to worry about them hearing anything, and that meant a lot to me.
I found Sandra in the kitchen, wearing one of my hoodies while she hauled out leftovers from the fridge.
She tossed me a disinterested glance over her shoulder. “I thought you left.”
“When did I ever leave without saying goodbye?”
She shrugged and closed the fridge door.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just grab my bag and hightail it. But I guessed a part of me still wanted to leave on a good note. This past year had been wrong on so many levels. Her depression turned my protectiveness into exclusion, my comfort into belittling, and my empathy into pity. It didn’t matter what I said or did. She reacted badly. She twisted my every action.
“At least my kids are happy now that they don’t have to spend the week with me,” she said.
I stiffened and bit my tongue. She was just trying to provoke me.
“And before you try to act like my fucking dad again, yes, I’m taking my medication,” she added.
I folded my arms over my chest and watched her put a plate of something in the microwave. “Can you try to see my side, Sandra? If I left you alone with the kids this week, you’d be overwhelmed in no time. All the progress you’ve made—I mean, even Dr. Carlson said—”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a goddamn child, Roe!” she yelled. She even stomped her foot. “I know I’m fucking useless, okay? I can’t take care of them. I can’t bond with Adam and Callie. I can’t—I c-can’t—” She started falling apart, so I hurried over to her and hugged her to me.
She sobbed against my chest and gripped my hoodie.
“You’re not useless, you hear me?” I spoke quietly but firmly. I’d tell her a million times—I probably had already. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, honey—”
“Stop it!” she cried, shoving me away. “I don’t wanna hear it! God—I can’t even look at you.” She sobbed into her hands instead, and I stood there, fucking helpless.
We came back to this every damn time. She couldn’t look at me, she couldn’t be near me, she wanted me to move out. Because she was bitter and jealous—she’d confessed in therapy. She saw me handling the kids with “such ease,” which was bullshit. I was exhausted. I cried in my fucking car. I’d fucked up the temperature on the formula. I’d let Adam roll off the couch. I’d burned their food. I’d caused countless diaper rashes. And I kept telling her, but she wouldn’t listen.