Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t speak until we’d parked in the dark of a small makeshift parking lot in the middle of the woods. It was almost pitch-black. There was no one else around. Rafe switched off the engine and turned to me. “I didn’t want to sit outside my parents’ house talking about important things. We both know they were probably watching us.”
I studied him, searching for the reason we were here. “What important things?”
“Your parents. Talk to me about them. I know a little, but not a lot. It’s important to me I know where you’re coming from. I grew up in a home with parents who love each other and weren’t afraid to be publicly affectionate. Don’t get me wrong, they fought like all couples do, but we were pretty secure knowing that our parents loved each other and loved us even more. That’s where I’m coming from.”
“I love that you had that. That you have that,” I replied sincerely. “But that’s not just where you’re coming from.”
Rafe frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You hired me to pretend to be your girlfriend to get your mom and Pippa off your back. How bad must it have been? Really?”
Nodding slowly, Rafe sighed and unclipped his seat belt and relaxed into his seat. “Like Hugo mentioned, Camille was the last woman I lived with.”
“She was your last relationship and she cheated on you. I remember.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Like I told you, I never loved her and I know that’s why she cheated, but it was still disappointing and hurtful.”
“Of course it was.”
“I’d been in several long-term relationships by that point and I was just exhausted waiting for it to feel like how it must feel between my parents. I decided I needed a break from dating to see if being alone was what I actually wanted.”
Oh. Understanding dawned. My heart raced.
“When things ended with Camille, my mom and Pippa took my despondency to mean that I’d really loved her and that I was broken. Eighteen months after the fact and I still hadn’t started dating anyone new. They got worried. They got impatient. Six months before you and I met, the matchmaking attempts started. It was just constant, Star. Every time I spoke to my mom, that was all she wanted to talk about. I told you about the women they sent to my clinic. They gave out my number without my permission, and I was at a breaking point. If I hadn’t met you, I would have had an explosive argument with my mom that I couldn’t take back. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but when someone you love can only see one thing when they look at you, it . . . it . . . just . . . it was suffocating.”
Sympathy for Rafe, and anger toward Jen and Pippa, filled me as I reached for his hand. “I’m sorry they made you feel that way.”
He searched my face. “I’m not, because look what happened. I know I don’t want to be alone now.”
There went my pulse, pounding hard again.
“Tell me about Arlo and Dawn. Your childhood.”
I took a deep breath and answered honestly, “I don’t talk about it a lot because I’ve come a long way in finally letting go of a lot of that hurt, choosing to forgive them for my own sake, and I worry that talking about it will bring it all up again.”
“It might come up again if you don’t talk about it. I see you looking at your phone sometimes and I worry it’s because Dawn hasn’t texted you back.”
Wow, he paid attention. “I do do that sometimes.” I heaved another massive sigh. “But I have to let go. I know I do.”
“Why? You mentioned weeks ago on our first date that they left you in a shop when you were a baby. Is that true?”
I nodded unhappily. “I knew pretty young that things weren’t right. When I was around six, Arlo and Dawn were really good friends with this couple who were self-proclaimed hippies too. They had three kids, and when we visited, the mom was always sweet and attentive to me, as well as to her kids. I didn’t know what it was they were doing at the time, but her husband and my parents would get high. She never did. She was always there, looking after us, and I used to think even then, why didn’t my mom look after me? I’d see the way other parents were with their kids when we were out or when I was at school. I’d overhear them asking their kids a million questions, making sure they had what they needed, asking about their day. Arlo and Dawn forgot to pick me up so many times from first grade that social services were called.”