Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
"He followed you this morning," she says, now standing in the doorway.
"I guess we were just getting here at the same time," I offer, keeping busy so I don't have to look up at her.
I've never been a good liar, and I'm always afraid people will see the truth in my eyes.
"He just left," she says. "And you guys had a long conversation when you arrived."
I look up at her, frustration growing inside me.
"I'm not aware of his schedule, Kayla."
She pulls her head back, noticing the change in my tone. Women who have been tiptoeing around abusive men tend to catch onto things like that, and I hate the look of surprise on her face.
"Did I do something wrong?"
I shake my head, running my hands over my face.
"I didn't sleep very well last night," I say, my response void of an apology because I don't feel as if I owe her one.
"Because of that guy?" she asks with a smirk.
"Definitely not," I reply.
"Too bad," she says, her nose scrunching up. "I wonder what life would be like if I had chosen someone like him rather than ending up with the man I got."
I don't agree with her or voice the fact that I have also wondered that myself.
"Wanna help with breakfast?" I ask.
"I don't think Andrea likes me," she mutters.
"That's absurd," I say. "Andrea likes everyone."
"Doesn't that Traci lady usually help?"
"She hasn't been feeling well the last couple of days," I tell her, waiting for her to clear the door so I can exit.
When she steps to the side, I walk past and head toward the kitchen.
"I think I'm going to head up to my room instead," she says, turning and walking in that direction.
I hate the sense of relief I feel when she declines.
I know the poor woman is just trying to get her footing, but she seems to lack the ability to read a situation and respond appropriately, and I don't know if that's something that can be taught.
Sighing, I turn back to the office and grab my task list, having been distracted by her questions about the guy who has been watching over me recently.
I've noticed him, and not just in the way you do with someone being in and around your space.
He's handsome, helpful, and protective of me, even if it's only because he's getting paid to be. I think any woman would notice him in this situation, but realizing that Kayla has noticed him also makes a weird sense of ownership come over me, and I have no claim on that man.
"I wanted to say thank you again," Dana says when I pass the dining area on my way to the kitchen. "That group really helped me a lot the other day. Really put some things into perspective for me."
"I'm glad," I tell her with a smile. "It's very hard to sit with our own mistakes, but hearing that I'm not alone in my choices has always helped me."
"Daisy leaned her head on me last night while watching a movie," she says, a soft gratefulness in her voice.
"That's great news," I say, my smile genuine.
"All progress counts, right?"
"It does," I assure her. "Keep at it."
Breakfast comes and goes, Andrea chattering away as I help her prepare the meal.
I sit with them at the table, enjoying a cinnamon roll and a small cup of fruit.
It doesn't take long to notice how quiet Traci is, and I get the feeling that her silence has little to do with her exhaustion as she nears the end of her pregnancy.
"You up for a chat?" I ask as everyone else clears the table and begins their day.
It's Saturday, so the kids are deciding which movies they want to binge-watch today. Melissa is heading to work in an hour, and Caroline left before breakfast because her shift starts at seven in the morning.
Kayla disappeared as soon as she finished eating, but I get the feeling she'll be more social once Andrea takes her break before lunch.
"Sure," she says, exuding a ton of effort just to stand up from her place at the table.
I wait for her to take her dishes to the sink, rinse them, and place them in the dishwasher, something expected of everyone who lives here, even the kids.
"Let's head to the office," I offer, walking more slowly than I normally would to accommodate her speed.
"It feels like I'm in trouble," she says as she enters, taking a seat across from my desk.
"You're not. I promise," I assure her. "I just wanted to touch base with you."
"I'm fine," she says, and the speed of her response doesn't match how she's been acting since we had the meeting outside the day before yesterday.
"We said a lot of things the other day," I begin as I round my desk and take a seat across from her. "I wanted to check and see how it was sitting with you."