Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
When Madeline was born, Eva and I were both busy—I with work, she with taking care of our home and our new daughter when I wasn’t around to help out. Over time things with Eva got more difficult. It became harder to pretend I was happy, and I found myself avoiding her. I didn’t like the way she treated Madeline. I didn’t like that she was more interested in hanging with her friends than being a mom. For a long time, I let shit go. If we divorced, I didn’t want my daughter to grow up seeing me only on weekends or whenever the courts allowed me time. When Madeline turned five, though, I couldn’t avoid the inevitable any longer. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror without wondering who was looking back at me. I was miserable, lost, and living a lie with a woman I could hardly stand to be in the same room with.
When I made the decision to end our marriage, I half expected Eva to put up a fight, or to try to use Madeline against me to get whatever she wanted in the divorce. I soon found out that she already had a backup plan. She had been having an affair with a man who—lucky for me—didn’t want to raise another man’s child. Eva gave me full custody and moved in with the guy. She hasn’t been around much since Madeline and I moved from Connecticut to the city for a fresh start almost two years ago. I hate that my baby is growing up without a mom, but part of me is thankful that she is growing up without her mom, a woman who chose a man over her child. Madeline does miss her mom—or the idea of her mom. I see it in her eyes when she talks about her friends’ mothers or when something comes up that she should be sharing with a mom. Luckily, there are some really great women in our lives. My mother and my brothers’ wives have stepped up to the plate and attempted to fill the void left by Eva.
“I love you, honey.” I place one more kiss against her forehead before carefully scooting her off my chest. I get out of bed and tuck the blankets around her, then set down the book and shut off her lamp. I turn on her nightlight, which casts tiny stars on the ceiling, and leave her room. Tomorrow I have work and Maddi has school, so it’s going to be an early morning of getting myself ready before getting her up, which is a process all its own.
Rubbing my eyes, I walk across the apartment to turn off the lights before shutting off the television and heading for bed. I strip out of my clothes, get in bed, pick up my cell, and make sure my alarm is set. I notice a message from my secretary, Sam, about a potential new client. I was worried about moving to New York City. The cost of an apartment alone was enough to give me heart palpitations, but it was the best thing I ever could have done. Impeccable Designs is one of the best architectural firms in the city, and word of mouth has brought me more business than I know what to do with. If things keep going like they have been, I should be able to get a bigger place for Madeline and me in the next year or so. I moved into Fawn’s old place—my brother’s wife—and although it’s nice, it’s small. Madeline’s room isn’t even really a room. I think it might have been a storage closet at one point. Still, I’m lucky that she has her own space. Honestly, I can’t complain about our living situation, since Levi and Fawn live right across the hall and are always willing to help out with Madeline anytime I need it, like when I have to work late or when she gets sick at school and I’m unable to get away from the office to pick her up.
I plug in my cell, then drop it on the side table. I shut my eyes. Just like every night since I left Eva, I sleep easily and soundly—something I wasn’t able to do for years.
Chapter 3
TROLLS
COURTNEY
Rushing across the street with the crowd before the light turns red, I stumble when one of my heels catches on a crack in the asphalt. Luckily, I right myself just before I do a face-plant. Unluckily, I hear a loud snap and feel my ankle wobble as the heel of my shoe breaks off.
“Crap.” I don’t stop, because the honking cars won’t let me. Instead I hobble across the street to the sidewalk. Only then do I stop to look at the damage. Leaning with one hand against a light pole, I pull off my shoe and inspect it. For a shoe that cost close to a grand, the thing sure did break like it was cheap plastic. Then again, Tom did surprise me with them, so I shouldn’t be shocked they are falling apart. With a sigh I look around, praying that there is a store nearby where I can run in for a new pair of shoes. Hell, I’d even take a pair of plastic flip-flops right now. Not seeing a place, I glance at my watch. I have about ten minutes to get to my meeting with the interior architect who’s been working on the plans for my house. I haven’t met Mr. Fremont yet. Until today I’ve mainly dealt with his secretary. He came so highly recommended that my hopes are high that he’ll have something amazing for me. Especially since, in all honesty, I don’t have the imagination to muster up even one idea of what I want.