Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
It was actually in a four-by-six frame on our dresser. I had knocked it over one day, shattering the glass. I pulled the photo out until I could get a new frame, then tucked it into the corner of the makeup vanity frame. I ended up looking at it far more often than I ever did when it was on the dresser, so I just kept it there.
Until the day Jim moved out, then I put it in the drawer.
I left the other photos of him up downstairs as most are family photos, and I wanted Lucy to have a connection to him in this house. It was a stark-enough contrast with him gone that I couldn’t erase him entirely.
I didn’t want to erase him at all, but I’d also given up hope a long time ago that he’d change. When I asked him for a separation, I had thought it might spark him into some type of action. I was hoping it would shock him enough to do something to fight for me, but he never did.
And now that I’ve actually found a nice man to date who seems into me, Jim wants back into my life?
It pisses me off almost as much as it amuses me.
I’m afraid it’s a little too late.
But that kiss, Ella. It was fantastic.
“Shut up,” I mutter. I mean, David is a great kisser, too.
Sort of.
A little too much on the wet side, but he more than makes up for that in the devotion he has shown me over the last few weeks. He knows I want to take it slow, and he’s accommodated my every wish. I wasn’t exaggerating to Jim, either. David is trying hard to win me over so I’ll let him take things to the next level. He sends me gifts, flowers, and cards. He manages to let me know every single day how much he likes me and wants more from me.
At the end with Jim, I would go weeks without knowing if he even loved me anymore.
With one more sorrowful glance at a photo that represents another life, I put it back in the drawer and close it. David will be here soon to pick me up, and I still need to decide what jewelry I’m going to wear.
♦
“This tortellini is really good,” I remark after swallowing a bite. “Are you sure you don’t want to try it?”
David smiles across the table, picks up his wine, and takes a sip. When he sets it down, his eyes are alight with humor. “For the third time, no thank you.”
I blink. “I asked you three times?”
He smirks at me, and no matter that Jim calls him Mr. Ordinary, David Wells is no ordinary man. He’s incredibly handsome, and that smirk makes him look downright sexy. “You’re distracted tonight, Ella. What’s the matter?”
And here’s the thing. David and I have known each other for a little over three weeks. We’ve been on a total of five dates, including tonight. But in between those five dates, we’ve had long telephone conversations and email exchanges where we’ve gotten to know each other perhaps even better than if we’d had a few more dates. He knows quite a lot about me, and he can clearly read my mood.
Setting my fork down, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and replace it on my lap. Sheepishly, I admit. “It’s Jim.”
“What about him?” David asks easily. I told him some things about Jim and why we’re separated. David knows why I want to take it slow. I have never badmouthed Jim to David, and he’s never felt the need to do it for me.
“He says he wants me to take him back,” I say, deciding that sugarcoating the truth would waste time.
David blinks, his smile disappearing and his eyes filling with concern. “And what do you want?”
“I don’t want the man I asked to leave back.” That’s the absolute truth. I’m never going to let myself be worthless in someone else’s eyes.
There’s a definite gleam of relief in David’s eyes. “Then why are you so distracted?”
“Well…” I begin, and then figure I need a sip of wine for fortification first. After swallowing, I say, “Jim has indicated he’s going to fight for me.”
David frowns. “What does that even mean?”
I shrug. “I have no clue. But I think he thinks it’s a competition with you.”
“Because you and I are dating,” David muses, tapping his fingers on the table.
“This is weird,” I blurt out, screwing my face up. “It’s weird, right?”
To his credit, David doesn’t say it’s weird. Chuckling, he admits, “I’ve never dated a woman who was separated before. So, this is new territory for me.”
“It’s new for me, too,” I murmur, taking another sip of wine.
“What did you tell him?” David asks, and I actually choke on the sip I took.