Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Just before graduation, he asked me to marry him. That’s when everything in my world should have been blissful; instead, that’s when the dreams we once shared started to shatter.
These days, I find it ironic that, no matter how much I try, I can’t even remember the actual turning point that led to the end. I clearly remember the big stuff, but not the little signs everyone says are there all along. I sigh and return to my work.
Hours into my workday, I look down and realize I’m dressed in black. I don’t remember making a conscious decision to wear black, but with no recollection of choosing it, I assume it chose me. Maybe beige would’ve been better. I debate in my head but don’t have time to change my clothes, even if I want to.
Lunch consists of a sandwich and chips from the deli downstairs. I brush my teeth afterward because I have to face his family and friends, most of whom I haven’t seen since we broke up six months ago.
I let the time after lunch escape me because I don’t want to think about the funeral. So as was typical with my old self—Jim’s girl—I lose track of time until my phone alarm sounds, signaling it’s time to leave. Taking a final deep breath, I close my eyes and remember the good times—the I love yous, the gentle kisses, and the hand holding he did simply because I loved to hold hands.
When I stand, Rachel appears behind me. “You going?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You want me to go with you?” She leans against the wall with a concerned expression on her face.
I slip on my jacket and think about her offer. “Nah, I’ll be fine.” I don’t know if I will, but I don’t want to drag her into the mess with his family. “Anyway, you have his estate now, so that might be crossing some line or something.”
She looks puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Rachel, it’s the Bennett property. James, Jim. That’s him.”
She’s mortified. “Oh, Charlie. I didn’t put two and two toge—”
“You didn’t know. You met him one time, so I understand. Don’t feel bad.”
I hear her gulp, the awkwardness heavy around us. “I’m so sorry. I don’t care about the estate. I’ll hand it off to someone else if you want me to go with you. I will.”
I hug her because she needs it as much as I do. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” When I lean back, I reassure her. “I’ll be fine.”
She analyzes me, searching for the truth in my eyes. “Okay, but call me if you want to talk.”
“Thank you, I will.”
Riding the elevator down to the lobby, I realize it’s all been a ruse, a careful charade I’ve put on since the breakup. I do want someone with me. I want someone there who is on my side, who has my back, but I refuse to put my friends in the middle of this chaotic nonsense with Jim’s family.
I stop once more on the sidewalk to gather my strength and then walk to the funeral with determination.
Chapter 4
Charlie A
Though my agent, Alec Stants, appears to be a sloth in a suit, he’s surprisingly agile and fit. “I have to stop. I need air.” I huff, coming to a stop and bending over to rest my hands on my knees.
“Come on, how weak can you be?” He stops, turning back to look at me. Shaking his head in mock disappointment, he adds, “This is just a disgrace that you would let an old man like me embarrass you like this.” He keeps jogging in place while he annihilates every bit of my pride into humiliation.
“Who knew? Right?” That’s all I manage to squeak out as I remind myself that he’s only forty-two. I stand back up, pacing back and forth, attempting to regain my breath. “How much farther anyway?”
“Sad. Just plain sad. I thought for sure you’d make it halfway. We’ve got just three small miles left if we turn back now. That’s not so bad, is it?”
I tug at my jogging pants and start in a forward motion, thinking I can do this! But I hate every remaining minute of it and finish out of spite and pride.
He pats me on the back while laughing. As we exit the park, he says, “See? Not so bad after all. You should make exercise a priority. It clears your head and keeps your body and mind in working order. You’re pushing thirty, man. You need to stay active.”
“First of all, I have a couple of years until I’m thirty. Don’t age me too fast. Second, you’d prefer me out running around the park all day over writing and providing you with a paycheck?”
“Good point.” He chuckles as we shake hands. He teases me as he starts to walk away. “You did better than I thought. Keep it up, and hey, send over those last two articles. I need to submit them on Monday.”