Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“I’m not going anywhere, I have to work,” Joey replies, but his mother shakes her head as if his words mean nothing.
“That’s nice that you think you have a say in this, Joey. You’re going away. This marriage will work. And to top it off, you will be nice to your new wife. Do. You. Understand. Me?”
I notice as Joey puts his hands on his lap, pinches his legs, then rubs it out.
“I have the bookstore,” I add with a shrug.
Joey nods his head. “Yeah, she can’t leave that.”
Maybe he’s just mean when he’s drunk?
“I spoke to Lucas today, Adora. He said he has that all handled and that you shouldn’t worry about a thing.” Bianca looks to Joey. “Your brother agrees with me, so don’t argue with me, son.”
I’m not sure what else we can say.
We sit there like scolded children as Bianca cooks the pizza and passes her son a glass of wine.
“Neither of you have asked where you’re going. Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious?”
“No,” Joey replies, then takes a long gulp of his wine.
I say nothing.
Bianca smiles. “You’re off to Italy.”
I can’t even respond.
Italy is the last place I want to go.
It’s a place that holds a lot of dark memories for me.
She probably thought it would be a smart idea to send me there, that maybe I could see my family, my sister, but my hands start shaking and somehow, I manage to hide them under the counter before Bianca sees them, but Joey catches the movement. His eyes swing to where my hands are closing into fists so tight my fingernails dig into my skin, but just as I’m about to draw blood, his voice stops me.
“We don’t want to go to Italy, Mother. Bora Bora, on the other hand, could be nice.”
I’ve always wanted to go there. I want to offer him a smile for his small act of kindness, but as I look at him, I can see that behind those icy blue eyes, he wants to murder me.
“And cancel tonight. No visitors. That can wait until we return.”
“You can leave now. I’m sure there’s someone else you’d rather be seeing than sitting here in my kitchen.” His mother has just left and advised us that tomorrow is when Joey and I are leaving for a vacation. He clearly doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.
“And where am I meant to go, Joey?” I ask, feeling exasperated, tired, and completely over just about everything. Saying Becca’s name accidentally is seeming like the worst thing I could have ever done, and he is one hundred percent going to hold it against me for the rest of my life.
He throws his hands up in the air. “I thought you’d want to go see your little girlfriend.”
“You told me I had to live with you, did you not?” I toss back the last sip of wine left in my glass before looking back at him.
“I did, and that hasn’t changed. You will live here because you’re my wife, regardless of whether we like it or not.” He gets up from the stool at the kitchen counter. I watch as he walks past the blue bookcase, the one he said I can turn into my own private shelves, before he glances back at me. “If you fuck her, I’ll kill her.” And then he walks off after dropping that bomb on me.
I never intended to see Becca again. I’d planned to put her in my past and try to focus on the now.
Gathering my purse and keys, I don’t even bother walking up to the bedroom before I leave. I drive straight to my happy place—my bookstore—and as I walk up to the door the ‘Open’ sign is clearly displayed out the front. I wasn’t going to open it today, but Lucas said he had it covered. When I enter, there’s a woman behind the counter who’s leaning over it, tapping away on her phone. Her complexion is dark, her hair in braids, and her smile is bright when she looks up to greet me. “Hey, how are you today?” she chirps. I’m too stunned to speak. “Are you after any particular romance genre? We have a wide variety, and I am sure something to please.”
“Arranged marriage.” I don’t know why I said that. Maybe I should read more books on it to give me a better perspective on my situation.
“O.M.G. I’ve just started reading a book that just came in. It’s not arranged marriage, but it is about a marriage that’s broken, and it’s a must-read.”
“Do you read often?” I have to know because that one book makes me wonder.
“My profession really didn’t guide me in the way of books, so I guess my life is like one of these romance novels, only a little more fucked-up.” I’m still standing just inside the door as I watch her talk animatedly.