Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I answer. “Paul.”
“Good morning.” He drags out the last word like a musical note. “Good news. I have someone who’d like to see the house.”
“Already?”
“Today, if possible,” he says.
That was fast. Of course, it doesn’t mean an offer, but the listing just went live yesterday. Selling a house can take years in some cases.
“Would you be able to leave it available to us?” he asks. “Around noon?”
I’d love to know who’s interested in the house. Could it be Quinn?
She mentioned craving a place of her own, and she certainly has all the co-signers she could ever want for a loan in her own family, but I have a hard time believing that she’d ask them.
“Okay,” I tell him. “Sounds good.”
What else can I say? It’s probably not even Quinn. If it is, I can talk her out of it before she signs.
“We might have an offer today,” he tells me.
“Yeah.” It would be perfect to get this settled before I fly away. “That’s great.”
“Talk soon.”
After we hang up, I throw on my workout clothes before getting busy tidying up the house. I make the bed, knowing whoever buys the house gets that too. I have no idea what else to do with it.
I start boxing up my father’s memorabilia and pack my clothes into my carry-on, removing the laundry I threw in the dryer. I put away my laptop and chargers, and make sure the food and drinks in the fridge are thrown away.
My old Cubs cap sits on a radiator, and I turn to toss it into a box, but I stop, staring at it. I’m supposed to give her the compass back now that I have the hat, but she’s barely asked for it. Maybe she’d rather have the hat.
I still can’t believe she was just wearing it—eight years after I gave it to her—when I saw her the other night at the gym. She didn’t know she would see me. Pinching the bill between my fingers, the memories come flooding back from the last time I held it like this.
When I was giving it to her…
Dropping my gaze, I saw Quinn looking at me again, but once more, she quickly turned away.
I let out a sigh, starting to feel some of that guilt Fallon talked about. Quinn had known me her entire life. Thirteen years. I guess I could muster up a ‘goodbye’ even when all I wanted to do was leave.
Walking over, I stopped next to her and knelt down. “I’m going to miss your croissants, you know?”
Her frown deepened as she continued to stare at her paper. “They’ll probably have better food and restaurants where you’re going anyway.”
“But they won’t be made by you.”
I was trying to soothe her, but she wasn’t having it. I didn’t want her to be mad at me, but I knew it was hard for a kid her age to understand.
And there were things I couldn’t explain to her right now. She was too young. She should be happy and excited without a care in the world, and I hated that she was wasting even one minute of her time thinking I was going to be worth missing.
“Well, stay trained up, okay?” I nudged her shoulder with my hand. “I might be back to visit soon, and I’ll expect to try some of your new recipes.”
“You won’t be back at all,” she mumbled, still not looking at me.
“How do you know?”
“Because everyone lies to make people feel better.”
I narrowed my gaze, studying her. Where the hell had she come up with a thought like that?
She finally lifted her sad, brown eyes. “You’ll find new friends and forget about us.”
I shook my head, no clue what to say next. Would I make friends where I was going? Probably. Was I sure I’d be back? No. Right now, I never wanted to come back here.
But I wanted her to feel better, so, without thinking, I took off my cap and fit it over her head, chuckling when the visor part fell over her eyes.
“I will be back,” I argued. “I’ll have to get my cap back, right?”
She plucked the hat off her head, her eyes going wide as she studied it.
“You can’t give me this,” she breathed out, stunned. She knew it was my father’s and how much I loved it. But for some reason, I didn’t feel like I would miss it if I knew it would mean something to her.
“I already did,” I shot back. “So take care of it, okay?”
Standing up, I cast her one last smile before turning around to head to my car. I needed to get out of here. I was lying to her. I was lying to everyone. I had no intention of returning, even for the baseball cap. I just didn’t want her to hate me. She was the only person who thought I was a hero.