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’d learned how to set a table too. Paper plates were forbidden in this house, and napkins had to be folded neatly. Not that Jake and I regularly used paper plates; we weren’t that bad, but if we were just chilling on the patio and sharing takeout, yeah, sometimes we spared the dishwasher some work.
“Mama bang,” Casper mumbled.
I glanced over at Sandra and frowned. “You don’t think you’re overreacting?”
I’d suggested a house, not a goddamn threesome. I wanted to build Cas a sandbox and swing too. Was that so bad? We couldn’t do that here. In a neighborhood known for its lavish mansions, we lived on the second floor of a three-story building packed with semi-wealthy divorcées, senior citizens, and bachelors. It was nice and all, but I wanted to trade in the doorman for a yard. Sue me.
“No. I don’t think I’m overreacting, Roe,” she replied irritably. “We have everything we need here. There’s a playground in the courtyard, and we don’t have to mow the lawn. But that’s beside the point. I’m already a secondary character in your life—the last thing I want is to move to Marina del Rey.”
What the fuck? This again? First of all, MDR had been a suggestion, not a demand. I loved that area, and it would be closer to work for both of us. Secondly, and I couldn’t stress this enough, what the fuck? Secondary character? Unless I had to work late, I was home around five every goddamn day except for Thursdays. I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t spend the whole weekend with Sandra and Cas. With work travel being the only exception. The only one. So in true Roe fashion, I ranted. I got a little heated, though I kept my anger at bay because I had Casper on my lap.
I reminded Sandra that I was keeping every fucking promise—and then some. We had dinner with her family almost every week. I was lucky to see my own family three or four times a year.
“…and I’m not bitching about the sacrifices I’ve made, because I understand a kid changes everything—it wouldn’t be right to live like I did before, but don’t give me shit,” I told her. “If I’m off work, I’m here. You go to spas and hang out with your friends—”
“I only work part time,” she snapped.
“And?” I asked incredulously. “You get pissy if I even mention an after-work with buddies. Meanwhile, I’m the one taking the initiative for what we do on the weekends. You’re still testing me—fucking admit it. You stay quiet and wait for my suggestions because you wanna make sure I spend enough time with you.”
It was fucking tiring. On my end, I’d known I had a lot to prove at one point. She’d correctly guessed I’d been about to end our relationship when she’d told me she was pregnant. But I’d stepped up. I’d kept my promises. I put Casper and Sandra first. I spent way more time with them. I took Sandra to dinner, I bought her flowers and those ugly figurines she collected, I was the first to propose romantic getaways, and I did the little things. She and Cas were my home screen, my screensaver. I sent her texts in the middle of the day to show I was thinking about her. I tried to flirt with her, but she was stuck in a pregnancy spiral. We’d decided to try for a second baby, so now sex was only about procreation.
Unless she was ovulating, nothing happened. She put too much pressure on herself on that matter.
But the rest? She put too much pressure on me too.
Maybe she realized I had a point, because she grew quiet.
I lived with enough guilt. I didn’t need more—when I didn’t deserve it. I gave her everything I was capable of giving her. The part of me that couldn’t let go of Jake was bound and gagged in a remote corner of my mind, but the part existed, nonetheless. Hence the guilt.
I’d chalked up his entire year of 2013 as a phase of desperation, and I was sure he’d sorted through his thoughts by now. He wasn’t attracted to me. He sure as fuck didn’t act possessive. And maybe, hopefully, the embarrassment had faded. He did come off as more relaxed nowadays. We could hug it out sometimes without him going rigid.
I did what I could. Same couldn’t be said for Sandra—and Jake, for that matter. I didn’t know what he had against her, though I absolutely understood that he sensed her reluctance to get together. I’d tried so many times to make her a part of our social circle, but she showed zero interest. Neither did Jake, Haley, or Nikki in Sandra. So what could I do?
“I’m sorry,” Sandra said quietly.
I looked over at her again.