Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
The harshly spoken words had Trey taking his wife's hand under the table, and he only realized that he was on edge until Camilla squeezed his hand, telling him without words that everything was alright.
Because what Troy had said sounded painfully familiar, and since it wasn't something he would wish on anyone, not even on this man whom he had once considered his greatest rival...
"Tell us what you need to do."
TWENTY-SIX HOURS.
That was how long Troy had been gone.
She had tried not to count them. She really, truly had. She had thrown herself into work the way she always did when the world became too much to bear, spreading out her lesson plans across the kitchen table and grading the stack of worksheets she had brought home from school. She sorted her craft supplies into labeled bins because her substitute would need to know where everything was. She updated her reading log. She wrote next week's vocabulary words on index cards in her neatest handwriting, the round kindergarten letters that her students could trace with their fingers.
She reorganized the art station materials by color because that was a thing that needed doing, and then she reorganized them by type because maybe that was better, and then she put them back by color because the first way had been right all along, and by the time she was done, three hours had passed and her hands were stained with marker ink and she still hadn't stopped counting.
She knew counting would only make things worse. But what one knew wasn't what one always ended up doing, and well...that was how it was with her.
She didn't want to count, but she still ended up doing so because every hour that passed was like hope draining out of her bit by bit.
But thankfully...
She also knew that what one felt wasn't necessarily true. Just like the good prophet Jeremiah said, the heart was deceitful above all else, and honestly, if she hadn't found herself clinging to God, she didn't think she would still be here, waiting for Troy. She would have long packed her bags again and run away, but for good this time. Like completely disappear. Maybe even take her own life because there were nights that the whispers were really so, so horrible...
It was like there was a personal demon assigned to her case, and its main job was to taunt and torture her.
Why do you think he's taking so long to come back? It's because he's changed his mind, you idiot.
Why don't you just kill yourself? It's the least you can do to make it up to him.
Why won't you just accept it? He never loved you, and he never will.
Again and again, she would hear such whispers in her mind, and the only reason she was able to push them away was because she knew the truth. Just like countless people in the world, she had started reading her Bible when it felt like there was nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to, and that was how she knew those whispers in her mind...
None of it was true because all the thief wanted was to steal, kill, and destroy while God...
He wanted them to not just have eternal life but live abundantly, too.
Even people like her who had messed up so, so much...
No, oh no.
She still didn't want to cry. She still didn't think she deserved it. But that was exactly what she ended up doing every time she remembered the article she had read about how Troy Barrymore Going Viral For All The Wrong Reasons could potentially kill the foundation he was intending to set up.
Barrymore is supposed to be a certain famous sports magazine's cover model for its next issue. But why feature a man who's been cheated on by his wife...with her co-teacher? A former hockey MVP, made a fool by an average Joe? Who's going to want to buy copies of that?
Rumor has it that Barrymore was about to lock in lifetime funding from Sir Luthrell, whose philanthropic pursuits are as well known as his aversion to publicized marital disputes, attributed to his daughter's suicide following her divorce.
If the Eastshore Vipers had known about Troy Barrymore's wife, they could have saved themselves millions. Why spend on a new coach or a new player when you can just hire the woman your enemy sleeps with?
She sat at the kitchen table surrounded by index cards and marker-stained fingers and the cold remains of tea she had forgotten to drink, and the tears fell onto a worksheet about the letter Q.
If she hadn't known God, those words would be like poison in her heart, and something that she would never be free from. But because she did know Him, and she knew Troy, and this time...
I love you, Laina.