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)
Holy shit. Right about now, I should have alarm bells going off inside my head, but that was very difficult when our buddy was rambling like a clown. He was too funny to be upset with, and I couldn’t muster any worry.
“It was totally Henry who put me up to this,” Zach lied.
We’d met Henry. Henry was this super-kind, older, smoking-hot gentleman. He hadn’t put Zach up to squat.
“That doesn’t sound like the Henry we’ve met,” Jake drawled. I drew immediate relief from his more relaxed stance.
I managed a smile and rubbed the back of my neck. One day soon, I would apologize to Zach for denying whatever vibe he’d picked up from us last night. It was almost over. It’d been a long, long year—more than that, even. But we couldn’t risk anything just yet.
“We’re sorry to disappoint, but we’re just really good at imitating Simon and Garfunkel,” I said.
Zach smirked a little. “I actually think they fought a lot, but…all right. I will quickly and painlessly change the topic and wish you a happy flight to my little hometown in a few weeks. I think we’ll be there when you arrive, so text me. We’ll have you over for dinner.”
“Count on it.” I nodded.
Once he’d left, I let out a breath and glanced at Jake.
He looked a little weary. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”
Me either. I was, of course, uncomfortable about telling Sandra I wanted a divorce, though it was nowhere near Jake’s level of discomfort at coming out publicly as gay. Not that we planned on shouting it from any rooftops, but considering our work and how many people followed us, some form of reaction was to be expected.
Jake had fought hard to accept both his sexuality and the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his parents, primarily his mother. Then there was the fact that Jake was simply a private guy. He didn’t thrive in the limelight. He liked his privacy. He loved that documentary filmmakers were relatively unknown even when they were very much accomplished. But our podcast had sort of ruined that anonymity. It didn’t bother me, but I felt for him. I did try to protect him from it.
“You ready to go home?” I murmured.
His house wasn’t my home. I just dreamed of the day it would be.
“Yeah.” He nodded with a dip of his chin.
Then he grabbed a box of Cocoa Puffs and headed for the registers.
I grinned and scratched my nose. Fuck, how I loved him.
“Hold on, connecting to Bluetooth. I just left the gym.” I backed out of the parking lot and waited for the sound to come through the car’s speakers. “Okay, shoot.”
Fuck, I was a sweaty mess. Jake’s idea for us to get personal trainers was seriously his worst ever. I hurt everywhere.
“Yeah, so Colin just came home from school,” Jake said. “I don’t know what any of this means, but he said his friend’s mom is shipping us online? What the fuck is that?”
Oh God. I cracked up and dug out a bag of chips from the glove box. Low-fat, high-protein, lackluster. “Don’t worry about it, hon. That’s been goin’ around a few years now. Happens to all kinds of famous people and characters. Basically, we have a minor following of primarily women who post gossip about us online, and they want us together. Remember Haley was into fanfiction about various book characters?”
“Vaguely,” he muttered. “You sure we have nothing to worry about?”
“I’m positive,” I promised. “Haley’s been on top of that since at least 2016.”
“All right.” He didn’t seem sure at all, which worried me. “I, uh…I still think it’s time I talk to Haley. Seth too. I mean, it’s not just about us. Haley will have front-row seats to the online reactions when we go public.”
That was certainly true.
Jake cleared his throat. “Is there any way you can come back to the office?”
Oh. He wanted to do it now? With me there?
“Absolutely, love,” I replied automatically. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thank you,” he said, audibly relieved.
This was a big deal for him, and I could swing it. As soon as we’d disconnected the call, I made a U-turn at the next intersection and called Sandra’s mom. She was more than happy to pick up the twins from day care for me. I promised I wouldn’t be long and that I’d bring dinner home with me.
Last but not least, when I stopped at a red light, I texted Sandra.
I’ll be a little late. No more than an hour or so. I’ll pick up food on the way.
There. Settled.
At the next light, I double-checked my calendar for the rest of the week. Adam and Callie’s eighteen-month checkup was on Wednesday, so I would skip out from work right after Off Topic. I was gonna ask the doctor about any possible long-term effects from Sandra’s depression. She had improved a lot—in the ways that she had more energy, she didn’t hate me as much anymore, she could put together simple meals, and she was almost completely “back to normal” when it came to Casper. It was the twins that worried me. Rather than focusing on repairing her relationship with our two youngest, she was talking about going back to work.