Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Nothing. We were talking about starting a puzzle,” I reply, keeping my eyes on Aubrey when I speak. Her face goes soft, making something in my chest shift and fill with warmth.
“And that brought you both to tears?” he prompts in disbelief. I chance a look at him, wondering how he seems to get more beautiful every time I see him. Judging by the stubble shadowing his jaw, he didn’t shave this morning, and his hair is growing out. A little is curling around his ears and hitting the top of his Henley, this one dark blue and matches the blue of his jeans. The belt around his waist with its large silver buckle and his badge are the only real contrast between the two.
“We’re women. We don’t need a reason to cry,” I state.
“Yeah, Dad. We’re women. We don’t need a reason to cry,” Aubrey repeats, making me turn to smile at her.
“If you say so.” He shakes his head then looks from his daughter to me with a look in his eyes that make my insides flutter. “The boys are gonna ride with me and Paul to release the bear.”
“Excuse me? You guys are doing what?” I sit up farther, balling my hands into fists in my lap.
“We need to go release the bear out of town. The boys are gonna ride along.
“I don—”
“It’s safe, Shel,” he says quietly, cutting me off. I chew on the inside of my cheek in response. I wanted Hunter to have a different life than he had in the city, but having a bear break into your house then releasing said bear into the wild seems a little extreme. Especially when I was thinking more along the lines of him being able to fish and grow up enjoying the outdoors, instead of sitting in front of the TV or a computer all day. “The bear’s not Louie, and since he got into your house once, I don’t want him to think he has free rein to do it again.”
“Who was it then?” I frown.
“Don’t know his name.” He smiles, and I try to tell myself he’s not funny, but I still grin anyway.
Letting out a long breath, I ask the question I don’t want to know the answer to, “How bad is the house?”
“Not bad, considering there was a bear in it. There’s a few things broken, and most your food is gone but nothing major.”
“I’ll help you clean up,” Aubrey chimes in, and that feeling in my chest expands even more.
“That would be really sweet,” I say, moving my eyes to her.
“I’m just gonna go get dressed.” She hops up then stops to give her dad a side hug before disappearing.
“Are you sure it’s safe for the boys to go with you?”
“I wouldn’t let them go if it wasn’t safe, baby,” he assures gently, and I nod. I look out the front window, where Steven and Hunter are standing huddled together. “How’s Hunter doing?” His gently spoken question is one I’m not exactly sure the answer to.
After he left yesterday, I sat down with Hunter and spoke to him about the adoption, and a little about Zach and me, but I let him lead the conversation and ask the questions he wanted answers to. Now, I’m not so sure I did the right thing. I wanted so badly to tell him about the couple who adopted Samuel. About how the dad had the kindest eyes of anyone I’d ever met, and how the wife spoke softly and was always smiling. I wanted to tell him that they had been waiting for a baby for eight years and previously had an adoption fall through at the last minute, which almost destroyed them. To explain to him that giving up Samuel was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but also the most fulfilling, because I gave two wonderful people the chance to be parents. Something they were unable to do on their own.
There was a time I didn’t see all the beauty in the situation that I do now. A time when I blamed Zach, when I shouldn’t have, because we both made the decision together, which is something I feel horrible about now. I know the adoption wasn’t easy for him either. I still remember finding him crying silently, and me walking away, too caught up in my own grief to even attempt to comfort him. It wasn’t fair of me to put the weight of my pain on him, but I still did exactly that.
“Shel.”
My name being called brings me out of my thoughts, and I move my gaze back to him, shaking my head. “He seems okay,” I shrug.
“Maybe he needed you to trust him a little.”
“Maybe,” I agree with another shrug, then bite the inside of my cheek. “About what I said yesterday, that wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry.” In the heat of the moment, I let myself say some really not-so-nice things. I let my emotions get the better of me. I don’t know his story. I can assume and guess what happened when I left, but the truth is I really have no clue, and in all honesty, we were not together. I have no right to feel betrayed by him when I’m the one who insisted we break up.