Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I’m waiting for Matthew to say something, but he doesn’t say anything, instead he gets up out of his seat. Helena follows him as she gets up, the smile never leaving her face. She holds out her hand for Matthew and he obliges when he slides his hand in hers, and a lump forms in my throat. I know what it feels like to be held by those hands, something I wish I didn’t remember.
I follow them out, my eyes going straight to Matthew’s ass. I shake my head and look down before Helena sees me checking out her fiancé. Once we go around the corner and into the waiting area, Helena stops and looks over at me. “Thank you so much, Sofia,” she says, holding out her hand to me. She holds my hand in both of hers. “I’m so happy we decided to go with you.” I make the mistake of looking over to Matthew to see what his face says to this statement, but he avoids looking at me.
“Thank you for putting your trust in me,” I tell her and then look over at Matthew. “I promise to make your wedding amazing,” I assure him, looking into his eyes as I stick out my hand, secretly calling him an asshole and a dickhead. He squeezes my hand a little bit more than he did before. I do the same thing, and when he drops my hand, I can still feel the heat from his.
He turns to look at Helena and puts his hand on her lower back to usher her out of the room. When the door closes behind them, I do what any average, sane person planning the wedding of their first love does. I walk back to my office and open the closet door, grabbing the half-empty bottle of sweet tea.
Kicking off my shoes as I walk over to my desk, I hear footsteps coming closer to my office. I look over to see the three of them walk in, just looking at me. Only after I sit down and take a shot of the sweet tea does Shelby start, “How are you feeling?”
I wait for the burning to subside from the sweet tea, as it burns all the way down to my stomach, and I have to wonder if it’s the tea or the nerves at this point. I exhale a deep breath. “Like a concrete truck just ran me over.” It’s the most accurate description of how I was feeling during the whole meeting. I avoided looking at him and my stubbornness just told me that it’s just another client.
“But was the concrete truck full?” Clarabella asks, and Presley just shakes her head.
“What difference does that make?” Presley asks, trying not to laugh.
“It makes all the difference in the world. With the concrete it would be fifty times heavier, if not more,” Clarabella explains, and I just laugh.
“I think she’s in shock,” Presley suggests, and I just shake my head.
“I don’t know if I’m in shock per se,” I admit to them, putting the cap back on the sweet tea. “But I do know that this might have been one of the hardest days I’ve had in my life.”
“It’s only going to get worse,” Clarabella advises.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Shelby screeches, throwing her hands up in the air.
“I’m not going to lie to her,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What good would that do?”
“I don’t know about you,” I say, getting up and walking back over to put the sweet tea back where I took it from, “but I’m going home for the day.” I slip my shoes back on.
“You should go home and get drunk,” Clarabella urges and both Presley and Shelby hit her arm. “What? It’s what I would do.”
“This from the woman who slept with not her husband on her wedding night,” Shelby says, laughing.
“I wasn’t the only one.” She points at her and Shelby gasps.
“I slept with Ace two days later,” she defends herself, “two days is huge.”
“If you say so,” Clarabella says as they turn to walk out of the room. “Let me know if you need me.”
“I will,” I assure her, as I pack up the file and my laptop before I walk out of my office. I’m in a daze as I make my way home. My head keeps spinning around and around as I shut the car door with my hip before walking up the stairs to the front door, opening it by pressing in the code. I kick off my shoes as soon as I step in, walking to the kitchen and putting down my bags on the island.
My whole body aches, and I have to wonder if maybe I’m coming down with something. Walking over to the freezer, I take out one of my great-grandmother’s chicken potpies she made me the last time I was with her. I put it on a baking pan before turning on the oven and placing it inside. I set the timer for forty-five minutes before I make my way upstairs to my bedroom. The bed is made since the cleaning lady was here today. I don’t stop until I’m standing in front of my shower, opening the glass door, and turning on the hot water.