Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“That’s why you don’t want kids?”
“Maybe. I think…I think love is important. It makes a house feel safe when life gets hard.”
Dex covered my hand and laced our fingers. We sat in silence, holding hands, lost in our own thoughts.
“You’re not cold. In fact, you might be the warmest person I’ve ever met.”
“It’s all the fritters I eat,” I joked.
He punched my biceps playfully and rested his head on my shoulder. “Shut up and take a compliment.”
“Hmph. Thank you.”
“I never had a dad. Not a real one. Mine was a hero figure who turned out to be a dud. Lots of kids grow up with single parents, but my father floated in and out—like a ghost. I would have done anything to get him to stay. When I had my concussion—the bad one—the nurse kept saying, ‘It’s okay, honey. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.’ I had no idea what she was talking about. Apparently, I’d been chanting his name like a fucking prayer.”
I squeezed Dex’s hand. “He’s an asshole.”
“Yeah. I was embarrassed for sure. Even more embarrassed that I kept checking the door, hoping he’d waltz in. Never did. He didn’t come visit, didn’t come to my wedding, didn’t call after my divorce…just gave up on me. Forgot about me. I should hate him for it, but I’ve learned not to give away rent-free space in my head. What I want is to do better, be better. When you asked me months ago why I wanted this, I guess that’s it. I want a different ending. A happier one.”
“You’ll have one.”
“What about you?”
I frowned. “What about me?”
He sighed. “How will we do this? Us. Will you come visit every day? Every other day? Will we meet at Log Cabin for pancakes and laugh at the messy baby in the highchair? Or meet at the park and take turns pushing him or her on the swing?”
My throat went dry. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“I just hope you know I want you in my life.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I kissed the top of his head and closed my eyes. God, I wanted that and so much more.
Too much. I wanted a fairy tale that didn’t exist. I wanted a world where no one was lost or forgotten, where children grew up in happy homes, and lovers lived happily ever after. It was a fantasy. A dream. I was too old for dreams.
It left me with a selfish, sick feeling that Dex’s gain was my loss. And that as happy as I was for him, I was sad for what could never be.
CHAPTER 32
DEXTER
The call came on a Tuesday evening. I was in the kitchen with Janey, preparing to lock up for the night. We had a huge supply of baking goods being delivered at the ass crack of dawn, and my feet were killing me.
My thoughts flitted from holiday ideas to my mom’s email from earlier. She’d doubled down on the idea of opening a Dexter’s Donuts in Grosse Pointe, sending me spreadsheets and photos of the property. She made a compelling argument, but it was a lot to think about with a baby on the way. I wanted to talk to Viggo and—
And then I remembered that I had to give him space. I couldn’t lean on him anymore. The writing was on the wall. I could feel him pulling away, a little every day…like he was reestablishing boundaries. He’d taken on a project in Rutland last week that required long hours and a daily commute. For the first time in weeks I wasn’t sure when he’d be home or if I should ask.
I fucking hated it, but I understood. I mean, my stomach hurt and the headache I had earlier in the day scared the hell out of me, but I understood.
“Chris is making pot pie, bless his soul. I’m mentally prepared to find a black hole where my stove should be,” Janey snarked.
I rolled my eyes as I shrugged on my jacket. “Good luck.”
Buzz buzz
“I’ll need it. Your cell is vibrating on the counter, by the way.” She tugged a beanie over her short hair.
“Ah, thanks. See you tomorrow, Janey.”
“Bright and early!”
Buzz buzz
I waved, then reached for my phone, smiling at the caller ID. “Hi, Freya. How are you?”
“N-not good. I’m at the hospital. I think something’s wrong.” Her voice broke. “Call Viggo for me, please. Hurry.”
My heart lodged in my throat as a chill crept up my spine.
“I’m…okay. I’m on my way.”
Please let her be okay. Please, please, please.
I left a message for Viggo on my way to the hospital. Two fucking hours on the road was torture. I’d said I was going to stay in Burlington as she got closer to the due date, but I hadn’t done anything about that. I’d been too busy, and Freya had seemed fine. And I hadn’t wanted to be away from Viggo and…oh, fuck, my head hurt.