Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Wait, what party?”
“Your party, dummy,” Benny grinned. “Now get in. I heard there's cake.”
I didn’t argue. My eyes scanned the crowd one last time as Malcolm opened the door for me, but there was still no Webb.
I climbed into Sasha’s SUV, the familiar smell of her coconut air freshener hitting me like a hug. As we pulled away from the curb, the quiet hum of traffic behind us, they all started talking at once.
“You really do look amazing,” Sasha told me, twisting in her seat to smile at me. “I can’t believe it’s only been five months.”
“Five months and a glow-up,” Benny chimed in. “The sun, that new hippie hairstyle, that whole beach-boho vibe you’ve got going on—classy little flower child.” He punctuated it with a pat on the head.
Sasha snorted. “There’s nothing hippie about Gabby. She’s just beautiful.”
“She’s definitely a hippie,” Benny argued, mock-offended. “I bet she owns one of those singing bowls now and meditates naked under moonlight.”
“Not unless chlorine counts as moonlight,” I muttered with a laugh, staring out the window as the courthouse disappeared behind us. “I took up swimming.”
“Seriously?” Malcolm asked.
“Yeah, it helped get the strength back in my leg and arm and passed the time. I dropped a size too.”
“Well, damn,” Benny sang, eyes wide. “That explains why Webb didn’t recognize you the first time he saw you. Guy looked right past you like you were a stranger.”
That moment had been a gut punch. I’d walked into the courtroom behind the agent, and Webb had been seated just inside the barrier. He didn’t see me at first, just glanced, then looked away. But then his gaze snapped back and raked over me—slow, intense, and unmistakably Webb. The heat in his eyes had told me everything: he still saw me. He still felt it.
But there’d been no chance to talk. Every day I showed up, I was ushered in and out like I was glass about to shatter, and he hadn't looked at me since. After every hearing, I was taken straight back to a secure apartment with no visitors, no contact, no personal phone, and absolutely zero life.
I missed my real life and my real phone. I still had no idea how Ira had gotten the number to my temporary one, but I wasn’t complaining. His daily calls had become the highlight of my day. They started short and awkward, but now they were long, full of laughter, his voice grounding me through the chaos.
He'd told me everything Webb was up to because, of course, he knew. That’s how I knew Webb had turned into a Home Depot regular. That he’d spent twenty minutes in the flowering plant aisle last month debating color palettes. Ira was convinced he was losing his mind.
“He’s going to become a florist, Gabby,” Ira had relayed dramatically. “He went off on some tangent about pollinators and mulch ratios. Mulch. I had to check he didn’t have a fever.”
I turned my head back to the window, resting my temple against the glass. Sasha and Benny were still bickering about whether I’d started wearing crystals or if I was suddenly vegan. I smiled, listening without really listening.
The conversation had drifted into Benny telling Sasha she was delusional if she thought my new beach wardrobe wasn’t at least a little bit hippy. Still, I cut in before they could really get going again.
“Have any of you seen much of Webb?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even though my heart had leaped into my throat the second I said his name.
Benny huffed so hard it sounded like the start of a rant. “Seen him? No. But I've definitely heard him. He called me about flowers, Gabby. Actual flowers.”
I was intrigued. “What kind of flowers?”
“Like specific ones with names I’ve never even heard of. He was talking about bloom cycles and soil depth like he was prepping for some floral SATs. I swear, he’s either planning a total career change, or he's missed you so much he lost his damn mind.”
That tugged a smile out of me that I didn’t entirely feel.
“Oh, it gets better,” Sasha added, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “He’s basically a professional decorator now. Apparently, he sprayed the paint on the walls instead of rolling it.”
Malcolm perked up in the passenger seat and nodded like they were talking about some miracle invention. “That machine is awesome. I’m borrowing it next week.”
All of us stared at him. Malcolm? Decorating? On purpose?
He caught our looks and snapped, “Don’t give me that face. If you saw what that thing could do, you’d be painting every wall in the tri-county area. It just sprays and covers. No drips, no roller lines, no trays. Just—poof—paint. Whole damn wall in ten minutes.”
Sasha had stopped at a red light and slowly turned her head to look at him. “You’re serious?”