Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
"I try to go twice a week," she responds. "Although sometimes I can only manage it once a week. Depends on my shifts."
"So it's been a while. You think she's worried?"
"She must be." Monroe nervously twists her arms in her lap. "I call her every day. She's surely wondering why I haven't been in touch."
A pang of guilt hits me hard, shocking me. I don't do guilt. I don't have a conscience. And here I am worrying about some old lady I have no connection to.
"We could go see her." The impulsive words shock me as much as they do Monroe.
"Me and you?" She laughs softly. "I don't think so, Alaric."
I shrug, turning the car back on. "Suit yourself. But the only way you'll see her is with me in tow. If you don't want to, though, it's fine. Just thought I'd offer."
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her trying to decide what to do. She chews her bottom lip, nervously glancing at me as I continue to drive.
"Visiting hours are over by now, anyway," she mutters. "It's too late to go there."
I smirk, turning the car around, already knowing I've got exactly what I wanted. And I guess I'm about to meet my fiancée's grandmother. I can only hope she accepts me and doesn't cause a scene. But something tells me Monroe's grandmother is somewhat like her granddaughter, and I'm going to like her.
Monroe stares at me as I wink and start driving to the nursing home, the address for which I looked up a few days ago.
"You know I like to break all the rules, sugar."
18
Alaric
Monroe is quiet for the rest of the drive to her grandmother's nursing home. I can tell she's nervous about me meeting her only relative, and I understand why. She's seen me do some fucked-up shit, and now she has to introduce me to the person who means most to her in the world. It might be a shit show... so I need to be on my best behavior.
We pull up in the posh driveway of the home. It's on a large piece of land with a large stone mansion covered in ivy. The grounds are well-maintained, and the seniors walking around are wearing big, pleased smiles. As Monroe and I get out of the car, one of their smiles grows bigger and bigger.
"Monroe!" An old lady waves us over enthusiastically. She's sitting by a pond with a friend who's already wheeling away. "Over here, honey!"
Monroe flies forward while I inspect her grandmother. The woman has a calm, quiet confidence to her I like. She seems like the quintessential grandmother I never had. The kind that may be vulnerable in body, but is a force to be reckoned with in any other way. I decide I like her on the spot.
Watching as Monroe hugs her tightly, I grin at the woman. "Hello, Mrs. Smythe. My name is Alaric."
"Alaric?" She nods, kissing her granddaughter's cheek and clinging to her hand as Monroe pulls away. "What an unusual name, and such an unusual man, too. You know, you're the first one she's brought over to see me."
"Gram!" Monroe flushes deeply, and I smirk, reveling in the fact that she didn't bring me over. I forced myself into Monroe's life, after all. And she fucking loves it.
"I expect nothing less of her. She's very picky," I smirk. "It took me quite a while to convince her I was a stand-up guy. Well... sometimes I wonder if I still haven't quite convinced her."
Mrs. Smythe laughs. "I know just how stubborn she can be. I did look after her until she was three years old."
I nod, ignoring Monroe's death glare in my direction. She wants me to stop asking all these prying questions and playing a game, but we have to, for her grandma's sake. I don't want to know how she'd react if she knew the truth...
"Gram, is everything going well here? They taking good care of you?" Monroe interrupts.
"For the most part." Her grandmother smiles. "There is one lady who I think is stealing my socks."
"Oh." I can tell Monroe is holding back a giggle. "Which one is it? I'll talk to her."
"The one with the pretty purple hair." Mrs. Smythe nods toward the entrance of the building where two nurses are watching the seniors. "Her name is Faye."
Monroe rushes in the direction of the nurse while her grandma turns to face me with a smug smile.
"Stealing socks, huh?" I tease her.
She winks and pulls up the leg of her trousers to reveal a pair of striped pink and white socks. "Count all my pairs every night. Not one missing so far."
"Sneaky." I chuckle. "You wanted to talk to me alone."
"Of course." She smiles back. "I need to find out if you're worthy of my granddaughter."