Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Zach's eyes narrow. “How did you take it up the backside?”
Pressing my lips together, my eyes widen. “Uh … slowly.”
It takes a few seconds before realization hits him. “Oh … Jesus … you mean you literally took it up …”
My gaze falls to my lap. “Even then, I never thought I was like my mom. Nope. I first found a good boyfriend. Then I convinced myself that he would love me like no man had ever loved my mom. But…” I grunt a painful laugh “…the problem was I hadn’t seen true love. Do you know how hard it is to find something you’ve never seen?”
“You’ve never felt love? Ever?”
Twisting my lips, my head inches side to side. “No. Well … that’s not true. Not anymore. I’ve experienced kindness. And I’ve witnessed love.” Again, my attention returns to his face. “You and Suzie. Actually, before I met the two of you, I thought I knew what love was. Nope. Not even close.”
“She loved you,” he whispers.
Tears burn my eyes, so I blink several times and avert my gaze. “I know,” I manage to say past the lump in my throat. “I loved her too.”
“Then let me give you this.”
“Give me what?”
“Financial freedom. She loved you. You loved her. I want to do this for her and for you. It’s a no-brainer.”
“It’s too much. You need to save the money for retirement. Or buy something you’ve always wanted. Or—”
“Or do this for you. Technically, what’s mine is yours. And what’s yours is mine. I don’t want to be in debt. So let’s get the hell out of debt.”
The confusion on my face only makes his grin swell. He shrugs one shoulder. “Georgia is a fifty-fifty state. You could divorce me and take half of my worth.”
“Z-Zach … I would … never, like ever do that.” The way I never ever considered a prenup before we got married. Was I naive? Was he? Was he completely irresponsible? What would his family think of his recklessness?
“I know,” he says so matter-of-factly it makes my head spin.
Taking my crumpled cone sleeve to the trash by the yarn store door, I gnaw on the corner of my bottom lip and pivot just as he reaches around me to toss his napkin into the trash.
“I’ll only agree to it if you acknowledge my need to repay you.”
“Emer—”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s nonnegotiable. I’m already the biggest charity case that ever lived. I can’t take a nearly six-figure handout with nothing more than a thank-you and a smile in return.”
“Fine. Repay me.” His hands slide into his front pockets as he rocks back and forth on his feet.
Not expecting his quick, agreeable response, I struggle to find my next words. Finally, they come to me. “I could move out,” I whisper. “With the insurance and no debt, I could afford a place of my own.”
For a flash, not even a full second, something crosses his face—a shadow of doubt, maybe discomfort. He recovers from it in the next breath. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Or I could pack a bag and travel. Maybe see if I can make some money off my photography. Maybe start a travel blog. Build a bigger social media following.”
“Or that.” He shrugs before brushing past me, heading in the direction of his car.
“Maybe I’ll wait until the first of the year and see how much money I can save, then I’ll decide on travel plans. If …”
“If what?” Zach's long strides make it hard to keep up with him.
“If it’s alright that I stay.”
“Why wouldn’t it be alright?” He unlocks his car.
“Because I make okay money cleaning houses, and if I don’t have debt, it’s unnecessary for me to stay with you.”
“Unless you’re wanting to save money to travel.”
I nod slowly, slipping into the passenger’s seat. “I guess.”
“Then stay.”
Stay.
Stay and grow more attached to him.
Stay and risk falling for my husband.
Stay and realize it might already be happening.
Stay and get my heart broken.
Before he backs out of the parking space, I feel his gaze on me. “Who do you have?”
Picking at my fingernails, I shrug a shoulder. “What do you mean?” I know what he means. Answering his question will require me to voice my reality.
“If not me, then who? Family? Do you have any family to turn to? Someone willing to give you a bed or even just a sofa and a blanket?” He backs out of the parking space, and we head toward home.
“Nope.” I let that one syllable echo between us for several seconds, but Zach doesn’t budge. “I don’t have family. No siblings. My dad has never been in the picture. Never met him. My mom had some drinking issues, then some drug issues, then some mean men issues. That’s why I left. She didn’t want my help, and I didn’t want anything to do with that life anymore. She said I could accept her for who she was or get the fuck out. Her words.”