Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I didn’t want him to know that he’d broken my heart with his words and actions over and over again those few weeks I’d stayed with his dad. It’d been torturous and wonderful all at once, and it was something I’d meant to hold on to.
But then I’d seen him talking to his ex and I’d written the note out of desperation.
“You’re the only woman I want, and if you leave me all alone on this earth, I’ll be like your friend. Lonely and lost, with my heart missing, and the only thing making me put one foot in front of the other would be my inability to disappoint my father.”
Brady and Sean were a lot alike, and as I walked across the dance floor to him, I knew that I’d love him as hard as he would let me. Forever and always.
***
Ghost
My heart hurt.
Epilogue
Sometimes when I’m mad at my husband, I shave my pubes with his razor.
-Text from Naomi to Aspen
Sean
Four years later
“I bought you a cookie.”
I looked over at my wife as she came into the room, and grinned widely at her.
“Thanks baby,” I said, heading toward her for a kiss. “Just set it down, and I’ll get it in a minute.” I held up the blanket. “I need to give this to your kid.”
She laughed and started emptying her pockets. Saline flushes. A tourniquet. Cotton swabs and four by four gauze pads. “My kid?”
I ignored that and walked toward the hallway and stopped at the base of the stairs.
Butterfinger snarled at me.
I snarled back.
“Fuck you.”
“Sean!” Naomi growled in annoyance. “Don’t do that.”
I grumbled under my breath.
“Seriously, this is beyond ridiculous,” I mumbled, being careful to stay out of Butterfinger’s reach so she wouldn’t actually make contact with my feet like she’d done hundreds of times before. “Stupid fuckin’ dog.”
“Daddy,” my daughter, Molly, cried out. “Nice.”
I rolled my eyes and tossed my girl her blanket.
The moment she had it in her possession, Butterfinger got up off the floor, and walked to the stairs to wait for Molly to gather her hugs before heading to bed.
I walked forward and dropped down to my knees, smoothing Molly’s wild curls back from her face. “Now, I want you to promise me that you won’t come out of your room tonight. Mommy is tired, okay?”
And Naomi was tired. She was six weeks pregnant with our second child, and had just gotten off a twenty-four-hour shift where she didn’t catch but four hours of sleep.
Ever since our daughter was born, we no longer went on the same shifts so one of us would always be home with Molly.
It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, but it worked for us.
Though, it helped that Naomi had drastically cut down her hours so that she was only working part-time. Meaning, I didn’t get to have her two days out of the week instead of four like we had been doing.
Molly tightened her hold on me, and then released my neck to head for her mother. “Goodnight, Mother.”
My almost-three-year-old had an attitude. She also liked her daddy better than her mommy.
Not that Naomi minded…much. The girl was just so much like me that it was hard for us not to be close. I was sure the next kid wouldn’t like me at all since this one tended to always choose me over Naomi.
“Goodnight, daughter,” Naomi chuckled as she shot me a death glare over our child’s shoulder. “Make sure you go potty. I’d hate to have to clean up pee in the morning.”
Molly widened her eyes and shook her head as if to say ‘oh, no she didn’t.’
“I don’t pee on my bed. My bed pees on me,” she snarled in the cutest little cherub voice that had the power to bring me to my knees. “And you, are mean.”
Molly turned on her heel and flounced away, passing me with bared teeth. “Don’t look at me.”
I held up my hands in surrender.
“I…”
“Molly Kate!”
I looked toward the door where my father was coming through, his eyes on my girl as she started up the stairs.
Molly changed directions and started to tumble down the steps in her haste to get to ‘Papa.’ Luckily, Butterfinger was there, blocking her fall before she could even get more than a teeter in.
“Oh, giiiirl,” Dad said as he snatched her off her feet. “I missed you.” Dad’s grin was soft. “Did you read your books?”
“Daddy read,” she nodded. “I just waited for him to finish so I could read.”
Molly wasn’t a reader…yet. She was advanced as fuck, and already as smart as a whip. She had the vocabulary of a fifteen-year-old, and an attitude that could rival any teenager’s.
She was so much like me that it was scary. The spitting image, as my father liked to point out.
“Let’s get in bed, then,” he said as he headed for the stairs.