Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
“It’s been a while. I’ve been so busy at work. The Fording Building isn’t going to build itself.”
“I hear that. Want your usual?” Paddy asks and I nod. An ice-cold Guinness will hit the spot.
“That’d be great.”
I take a seat at the bar as he slides a pint down to me. I take a long drink of the frothy brew and let the work week fade away. I’ve had to be at work at four all week and I’m exhausted. I don’t drink during the week, but on weekends, I like to let loose.
“How’s August?”
“She’s great. I’m going to ask her to marry me next week.”
“That’s great, man. Congratulations. She’s the best.”
“I know. I love her more than I ever thought possible.”
“That’s great man. Hey, Wes. How’s the wife?” he asks the cop who just sat down beside me.
“She’s great. I’ll take a beer.”
“Coming right up, Wes.” I met Wes about a year ago. His sister is married to Mitch Halstead
After my drink, I say my goodbyes and head to the florist and pickup my weekly flowers for August. A few years ago, we got into a fight about something stupid. I don’t even remember what we were fighting over now. I got her the flowers to apologize, and she loved it. I kept getting them for her because she loved them so much. This week, I choose orange Tigerlily’s and head home.
Lately, I’ve been noticing things are off with her. She’s not as cheerful as she usually is, not that she needs to cheerful all the time by any means, she just usually is. I know that she’ll tell me eventually, so for now, I’ll just keep noticing her and I’ll say something if I need to.
I just want her to be happy. I’ve been planning the engagement in earnest now. I want to give her the world. I say it all the time. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Nothing. I’d die, lie, steal for her. Whatever she needs, I’ll be the one to provide it.
CHAPTER 3
AUGUST
Yesterday royally sucked. I spent over an hour in the shower crying and weeping like a baby. It was not one of my crowning moments. I have been asleep since last night and practically all day today. For the last three hours I have lain awake in this bed, my hand running over his cold spot on the bed, missing him, us like crazy.
“Screw this.” Sighing, I will my body to cooperate with me and get out of bed. I take a moment to see how dizzy I am and when it seems like my body is deciding to take mercy on me today, I go in my closet and pick out Declan’s favorite dress.
For our graduation present, his father sent us both to Italy for a month. We spent a week in Rome, one in Verona and two in Sardinia swimming and laughing, forgetting all the loss and grief. While in Verona, we visited some of the lace shops and in one of them the owner, a sweet lady named Greta, insisted on making a custom dress. She said, well I think she said with what little Italian I know, that my figure deserved a dress for princesses.
When I went to pick it up I was flabbergasted. The dress is a light seafoam blue in the softest silk I have ever felt. The overlay is pure Italian lace in white, embroidered with her family's signature pattern. The entire thing comes just above my knee but fits me like a glove.
On our last day of our trip Declan planned this extravagant date for us to a restaurant where the chef cooks your food at the table. I wore this dress then and he tripped over himself when he saw me in it. He made me promise that when we married, if Greta is still alive I will get her to make my dress. I haven’t worn it since and since we hardly ever go to such fancy places, why not wear it at home and cook him a dinner fit for the most wonderful man in the world?
Showered and still feeling alright, I grab my purse and head to the grocery store on the corner. For the past few months, when I eat, it has been takeout, which I make sure to get enough for him, or he has cooked on the weekend and made stuff for the week. I used to love cooking for him and making sure he had lunch and such, but lately, well, nothing has been the same.
Deciding on his favorite: meatloaf, mashed potatoes with some chunks in them, and green beans. I put everything in the cart, paid for it, and took them the ten-minute home. I just have enough time to make the meatloaf and get it into the oven, boil the potatoes, which can be while I am getting dressed, and roast the green beans.