Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Forget him,” I tell them. “If he wants to act like he’s perpetually twenty-one, then he can do it alone.”
I move a throw pillow to my lap and hold on to it.
“You’re going to be fine regardless,” Sue says, repeating her earlier sentiment.
“And we’re going to throw you the best shower ever,” Maddie adds, taking over the conversation again. Bringing it to happier topics.
“What theme do you want? The elephants or bees … or whatever else is in that bag?” Jules asks me as if it’s all we should be talking about. I suppose it is. I’m done with Evan and this instability.
“I’ll have to think about it,” I answer and bury myself into the sofa. “Maybe when we know if it’s a boy or a girl, then we can decide?” A light feeling seems to lift my shoulders like a weight is gone. Maybe it’s the feeling you get when you’re truly done with someone. When there’s no way they can make it right again and you’ve come to accept it.
Maddie steers the conversation toward baby shower talk, and her voice is peppy as she says something about a Pinterest board.
My gaze falls on each of the girls in turn, all of them here for me. Jules catches my eye and rests her hand on my thigh, mouthing the words, “It’s going to be okay.”
For a short moment, maybe a second or two, I feel like it might.
Evan needs time to realize what it means to be the man I need.
Hopefully the time I need to get over him completely and stop falling for his charm is less than that. Because I can’t do this again. I can’t, and I won’t.
Diary Entry One
Mom,
It’s been a while.
I miss you guys, but you already know that. I could really use your advice now.
I know Evan loves me. I can feel it when he looks at me, but when he’s not with me, I feel like he doesn’t. I know I’m insecure, but he’s been so weird lately. He’s acting crazy and it scares me a little. You wouldn’t like it.
I don’t even want to tell you. I’m so ashamed.
It’s that bad.
I know you never met him, but I swear he’s a good guy. I know he is.
But the thing is, he’s not doing good things.
The worst part is that he’s not stopping.
He knows we’re pregnant, and he’s not stopping. It doesn’t get much worse than that, does it?
I don’t know what to do.
He wants me to wait for him and I love him so much.
But I’m scared, Mom.
I cry all the time. That can’t be good for our little one.
I remember you crying when I was little and how you held me and sang lullabies to me. I’m trying that late at night. I hold my belly and try to sing lullabies instead of crying. I’m trying so hard, but I’m afraid I’m already failing.
I don’t think I can be with someone who isn’t willing to stop doing what he knows is wrong. It’s not just me anymore.
But it gets worse.
I can’t stop loving him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mom. I could use your lullabies right now.
Chapter 8
Evan
Threats can make you weak,
To think of what’s to come.
To avoid seeing what’s here and now,
Living life as if you’re numb.
The lies are spinning webs,
To trap and hold you still.
The sinners hiding in plain sight,
Hold your fate against your will.
New York City is a sight that never fails to impress. It’s a mix of things—the nightlife, the skyscrapers, the people themselves. But winter is when it’s the most beautiful, I think.
Only the trees are wrapped with Christmas lights this early in November, but soon everything will be covered in white and blue lights. The shop windows in Rockefeller Center will be decorated with luxe details and high-end staging, and people will come from around the world to see it.
It’s stunning, but what’s best about it, is the crowds. During the winter months, this block is constantly packed. That’s exactly what I need right now.
I need to remove one of my gloves to turn on my phone and check the messages. My foot taps on the hard cobblestone beneath my feet as I wait on an iron bench.
The phone goes off in my hand and I stare at the message from my father.
Just a bit overworked because of my dumbass son.
Are you sure you’re all right? I ask him and ignore the insult.
It’s fine.
If you went to the hospital, I text him, it must’ve been bad. On the subway here, I got the message from my father that he was being released. He said he felt light-headed in the grocery store and the manager called an ambulance. He said they were just being dramatic, but I know my father. He’s stubborn and hates hospitals.