Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She wipes a single tear. Just one.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Her head snaps toward me. “Oh my god, Liam, from everything I just said you pick out the girlfriend part?”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. But I needed her to know. No one else. Just her. Always just her.
“We’ve moved on and you’re not part of our lives. Noah doesn’t need you, he doesn’t even know you, so please just go and don’t come back.”
I nod. There’s nothing left to say that won’t make this worse. I can’t look at her as I walk past. My body moves on autopilot, around the counter, toward the helmet sitting where I left it. The gloves. The armor I wear so the world can’t see what’s underneath.
“See you around, Josephine.”
The name tastes like ash. I’ve only called her that once before. The worst night of my life. Until now.
The bells chime behind me. Cold air hits my face. I throw my leg over the bike, jam the helmet on, fire the engine. The vibration runs through me, the only thing holding me together.
I pull away from her shop. In my mirror, through the glass, I can just make out a shape crumpling to the floor.
I ride faster.
“Hey,” Josie says as she tugs on my arm. “Are you with me right now?”
I clear the memory from my mind. I don’t know why that particular part of my life came through and I wonder if it’s because of Sterling and how I feel about my father and finding out I was one. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”
“I asked if you wanted to walk through the park?”
I take her hand in mine and we cross the street. The crew has been busy in the park, setting up for the haunted house that’ll run the week leading into Halloween. Josie points out the displays she did, and honestly, they’re the cutest things I’ve ever seen.
“I’m excited for the triplets to come over and trick or treat,” I tell her.
She pulls me to her and looks into my eyes. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I nod and look over my shoulder at the parking spot. “I think all the questions I answer, and with that caller potentially being my father, has me thinking a lot about things. When we stopped in front of the shop . . . that day . . . the first day I met Noah and then came to see you, it all came rushing back. I was a fool for leaving you behind.”
Josie cups my cheek. “It all worked out.”
“Because Mason died and I happened to see a newspaper article about it.”
“I believe you would’ve come back, regardless. Ten years is a long time, Liam. We’ve worked through all of that and have come out stronger. We’re better because of it.”
She kisses me softly.
“I know you missed those years with Noah, but you’ve more than made up for them. You need to let yourself accept that.”
She’s right, which doesn’t come as any surprise. Still, it’s hard sometimes especially when I look at my son with his children. He’s getting to experience all the firsts of life with them and that’s something I missed with Noah. Sure, I got those with Paige, but I also think those days hurt Noah more than he let on. That couldn’t have been easy to witness, knowing I wasn’t there for him.
“Come on, Rockstar. Let’s go to the bar.”
We walk to the truck, holding hands, and greeting anyone we pass. I grab the handle to the driver’s side of my truck and motion for her to get in.
“Oh yes, just like high school.” She laughs as she scoots to the middle.
“Some things don’t need to change,” I say as I start the truck, and then put my arm around her. I drive to Ralph’s using one hand, turning corners with some effort, because I refuse to remove my arm from her shoulder.
TWENTY
Beaumont High made the playoffs, which means the whole town has turned out to a high school field on a freezing night to lose its collective mind, and I’m one of them. I was told to arrive early by my daughter, with no other instructions. Of course, I do as she says, and it turns out she wants me to buy a red and gold foam finger as part of a fundraiser for the cheer squad.
“Hi, Mr. Page,” one of the girls says. The others giggle as I smile.
“Mr. Westbury,” I say only because Nick believes one of the girls on the squad is responsible for the spray-painted words. No one has come forward yet and the water tower remains closed. It breaks my heart, but I won’t stand for that type of shit being done on my property. Especially when it’s aimed at my daughter.
“Dad, if you buy a foam finger, others will see you in the stands and they’ll want one.”