Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Moving away from the door, she opened the wardrobe that still held his leather Skulls cut. Each member could get a new leather cut with the symbol of the club if the old one became too worn. Hardy had two jackets, the one he wore now, and the one that was old. Running her fingers over the worn leather, Rose felt tears close to the surface. Ten years was a long time to be holding a grudge. Tomorrow she was going to call her lawyer and tell him she wasn’t going ahead with the divorce. Hardy didn’t know she had the divorce papers locked away in her drawer. She couldn’t do it.
Did this make her weak?
She didn’t know anymore what it made her. Loving Hardy had always been her problem. Within the first few weeks of knowing him she’d fallen in love with him, and that had never gone away. Even when she’d found him cheating, she’d struggled with her feelings. She’d hated and loved him with equal measure.
Closing the wardrobe, she made her way toward the bathroom. She unwrapped her hair from the tight knot above her head, and watched the red hair fall around her. Letting out a breath, she stared at her reflection.
Removing all of her clothes, she turned to the full-length mirror, and stared at her body. Since her separation, Rose had filled out a little. She’d not been trying to keep Hardy’s attention, and she’d stopped dieting, going back into the kitchen. Rose loved to cook, and she’d stopped doing it for so long for fear of getting fat.
She was now a much fuller size sixteen than the size ten she’d used to fight to keep. Rose no longer sneered at a burger, or was terrified when she ate an extra portion of fries. She was happy, more than happy.
Would Hardy be happy with her like this?
Stop thinking that way. It’s not about what he likes.
Taking a quick shower, she washed away the day’s grime before heading to bed. She pulled on an old shirt that was still three sizes too big, and she climbed under the covers. It was warm, but her body was chilled after being in the shower.
Turning over, she stared at the empty space that Hardy once slept in. Placing her hand on his pillow, she let out a sigh. She missed him, really missed him. He was across the hall, and she wished there wasn’t that distance between them.
You have to do this.
Don’t take him back.
Let him in.
Love him.
Forgive him.
It has been ten damn years. When are you going to cut him some slack?
Make a decision or move on.
You’re running out of options.
Fighter was right. She was being cruel, and she needed to stop giving Hardy false hope, or get over her own problems.
****
The following morning Hardy stood in the kitchen and didn’t have a clue what to do. Baker walked in without a shirt, and his jeans unbuttoned.
“You’re awake early,” Baker said.
“I wanted to surprise Rose with a breakfast. You got any ideas?”
“She likes everything I’ve ever cooked. Can you cook?”
Hardy stared at the stove, and the oven. He could lie his way through the morning, or he could be honest. “I can’t cook.”
“Good for you, I’m a trained chef with a keen eye on pastry.” Baker walked to the fridge, grabbing out several rolls of pastry. “Some cheating is involved this early.”
Hardy stood and watched as Baker worked his way around the kitchen, grabbing some sugar, chocolate, and spread. The man before him knew his way around the kitchen, and it was enthralling to watch. The confidence in the man was inspiring.
“Why did you quit baking, man?” Hardy asked. It seemed completely insane to him to give something up that he loved.
“I just couldn’t do it anymore. I can bake here, and at the clubhouse. Never in a bakery, never again.”
“Why? You’re so good at it.”
“Imagine trying to get on with your life, only everywhere you go memories of Rose remained. The difference is, Rose is dead, and you can’t move on. You remember the way she smiled, how happy you both were when you found out you were pregnant together.” Baker stopped talking and focused on the pastry in front of him. “Every memory that I have of baking in my shop is that of my dead wife. She was always there, chatting with me while I worked. Some of her friends thought she was crazy settling for a guy like me. How can a woman love a baker? He’s a pussy.” Baker smiled, going bright red. “She asked me one day to just come and pick her up in my arms, so I did. Lifting the large bags of flour and shit, it kept me in shape.” Baker shook his head, smiling. “I can bake now without it hurting too much.”