Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
The marriage certificate. “It’s signed,” I say, and I can’t decide how I feel about him forging my signature. Though that’s really the least of my problems, but I can’t get over it. My name just looks… wrong. Not mine, not really.
“And notarized. You’re officially my wife now.”
I stare down at the document. My hands are damp from washing and I wipe them on my jeans, not thinking about anything but forever. He’s still watching as I pick it up and stare. I hold it to the light like I might prove it’s fake.
“I thought there’d be a wedding.” I don’t know why that’s the first thing I say.
“Do you want one? I’d be happy to walk down the aisle.”
“No, no, that’s okay. We don’t need one.”
“You’re freaking out.”
“No, I’m not.” I try to smile but it must look awful because he shakes his head.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says and gently takes the license away. “This is what you signed up for.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath. “I know.”
His fingers graze my cheek. A tingle runs into my stomach and I pull away. He lingers there, too close, too big. He’s right, I’m totally freaking out.
My forever only shakes his head. “I’ll give you space to process.” He moves away.
“Wait,” I blurt out, not sure why.
He turns back around, head tilted expectantly.
My hands ball into fists. I feel tears in my eyes, and I stare at the floor, embarrassment flooding through me.
“Can you just come back over here? Just for a minute?”
He doesn’t hesitate. I let his arms wrap around me as he pulls me close against his body. It’s strange, letting him comfort me like this, when he’s the reason I’m feeling like my world has suddenly contracted to a tiny point in space. My forever, my everything, right here in this house.
But he smells good, and he feels good, and I like the sound of his heart in my ear. It’s steady and consistent. He doesn’t say anything, only hugs me close against him, and that’s what I need.
Chapter 17
Saul
Despite how much the old woman smokes, Molly’s former apartment doesn’t smell like cigarettes at all. “This enough?” I ask, giving her nana the carton.
“Perfect. You’re a good man.” She pats my hand and lights up. I unpack the groceries I brought over, putting away the refrigerator stuff first.
“Do you need anything else?”
“We’re fine. You stop your worrying.”
“How about help around this place? I can hire a cleaning crew to come through.”
Nana shakes her head. “I’d rather do it myself.”
“And since that’s not possible, I’ll have them come in a couple days.”
She looks like she wants to argue but only shakes her head. “Alright, young man, if you insist.”
“I most certainly do.” Once the groceries are done, I lean against the doorframe and study her. She gives me a sharp look in return. “Last chance. Any requests?”
“None. You keep this up and I’ll be set for life.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Can’t live on cigarettes and coffee.”
“Watch me.”
“I can see where Molly got her spirit from.”
Nana grunts and waves that off. “Molly comes across that the hard way. The girl worries too much.”
“I noticed.”
“She’s okay though? She wouldn’t tell me if she wasn’t.”
“She’s good. Having trouble getting used to her new situation, but I’m doing my best to make her happy.”
Nana shakes her head. “I don’t know where the hell you came from, but I’m glad you showed up. That girl was going to get herself killed one day, working herself to the bone.”
“I’m glad I showed up too. Give me a call if you think of anything. I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Tell my granddaughter to come visit!” she says as I leave the kitchen.
Jason’s sitting at the kitchen table with biology books open in front of him. He looks up and his face is hard as I hesitate near his study spot. The kid’s got a sharp face, the same light eyes as Molly, and a mop of curly dark brown hair. They share a similar nose too, but Jason’s still got some softness to him, while Molly’s has all been shaved away.
“You good?” I ask him.
“Fine. How’s my sister?”
“She’s fine too.”
“Great. See you later.”
I hesitate, tempted to walk away. The kid hasn’t exactly warmed up to me. Not that I can blame him: I rolled into his life, took away his sister, and started making changes out of nowhere. That’s a hard thing to accept.
“Just so you know, I care about Molly. I’m going to make sure she and the baby are both happy. And I promised her I’d watch after you and Nana too.”
“I don’t need your help.” But he hesitates and looks up. “Nana does though. She loves cigarettes more than she loves breathing.”
I laugh at that and get a little smile in return. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs, don’t worry. And same goes for you. If you need books, supplies, a fucking new wardrobe, let me know.”