Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Are you sure? You can tell me. There are, uh, resources—“
“No, no, seriously, no, I don’t need resources. Liam’s not the problem, not really anyway. He’s a symptom, if anything.”
“Uh huh. Right, that makes sense.”
“I know it doesn’t, but trust me here. My family made some stupid choices and now… I have to figure out how to handle it. And I need a night away to sort it all out.”
“Well, you can have that here.” She sits back and crosses her legs, turning her attention to the TV. “Shall we watch some mindless bullshit?”
“Oh yes please. I love mindless bullshit. There better be housewives and possibly young horny idiots involved.”
“Uh, yeah, what else is there?”
We don’t talk for another hour. It’s really nice. I sip wine, watch bizarre old ladies scream at each other and get inappropriately drunk, and do my best to feel like I’m normal.
Which lasts all of two episodes before there’s a knock at the door.
Kelly jumps up to answer and comes back with a very concerned expression. “Uh, Regan? So, you probably won’t like this, but your husband is waiting outside. He says he wants to talk to you, but he won’t force you to come down. He says—“ She grunts in frustration. “I forget, it was a whole thing, but the gist is he wants to talk but won’t force you. He’s waiting in the park a block over.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly, trying to process. “He told you all that?”
“I know! I had to memorize it all in like ten seconds!” She chews a nail and looks over her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, he seemed very… sorry. I don’t know.”
My guts twist. My mouth is dry. Wine doesn’t help. I stand and pace before peeking out the window. The street is empty and quiet; there’s no motion on the sidewalk.
I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to stay in here and keep hiding. I could watch all the TV in the world and act like everything’s fine.
But that’s what the old Regan would’ve done, and I want to be better than that. The old Regan would do her best to smile and act as though the house wasn’t on fire. The new Regan needs to get a damn hose and start spraying.
“I’ll go talk to him.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s fine, really. Liam’s not the issue.”
“I know you said that, but—“
“If I’m not back in a half hour, call the cops.”
“Oh god, that doesn’t inspire confidence.”
“I’ll be back, don’t worry.” I hug her quickly. “Thanks for being my friend.”
“Anytime. I’ll be right here.”
I leave the apartment. I don’t want to, but I do it anyway. Back there, inside, it’s safety and comfort. It’s everything I desperately crave.
Out here is scary, but it’s real, and it’s where I really need to be.
The moon’s out in full. The street’s mostly empty at this hour. I find the park, barely more than some grass, a few benches, a small path, and a playground. Liam’s sitting against a swing, his massive body clearly too big. It’s almost funny as I approach, hugging myself against the chill night air. He watches, face bright in the moonlight.
“I’m glad you came. You didn’t have to.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Didn’t. Took me a while to hunt you down.”
“Well, you found me, congrats. What do you want, Liam?”
He doesn’t speak at first. It takes a lot of effort not to go to him. I know it’s not his fault Luke made a horrible choice, but part of me is still angry with the way Liam handled it. He acts like feelings, relationships, romance, this thing between us, are all barely more than liabilities at best.
But our relationships define us. Who we spend our time with, the jobs we do, the people we meet, the way we speak, love, laugh, tell jokes, and cry, that’s what we are. I can’t be like him and pretend people don’t matter. And I wish he’d stop trying to convince himself that it’s true, that he doesn’t need anyone but himself and the Whelans.
“I’m sorry, Regan. I fucked up earlier, and I’m sorry.”
That’s not what I was expecting.
I almost blurt out, it’s okay don’t worry, mostly because I’ve been trained to avoid conflict.
I’m the new Regan now, so I take a moment to think.
“What are you sorry for?”
He steps away from the swing. The chain sways. “I was callous at the diner. You were hurting and I treated you like a child. It was stupid of me.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve gone my whole life thinking I didn’t need anyone. I never had to worry about someone else’s needs before. Until you came along.”
I worry my bottom lip, watching as he comes closer. My big, beautiful husband. He’s scary in the darkness, and if I didn’t feel this need pulsing between my legs, I might run away.