Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
"You will," he says, smiling.
"I might not."
"You will."
"I made a decision."
"Yeah?"
"Even if I don't get it, we aren't leaving."
He blinks at me.
"I mean, I'll have to leave for a little while. I'll need to pack up my apartment because, of course, I still haven't done that. But after that, I want to come back here."
"Even if you don't get the job?" he questions.
"Yes."
"Paisley…"
I slap my hand over his lips, silencing him before he can argue with me. "Just listen, please."
He grunts against my fingers and then nods reluctantly.
"This feels like home to me, Ridley. This feels like the place I'm supposed to be. As much as I'd love to work in the DA's Office, there are other ways I can practice law, helping the good guys if that doesn't work out right now. And I can do them from here. I don't need Crudup. I don't need to find some other DA willing to take me on. I can choose my own path and make a difference right here. That's what I want to do."
"It's not your dream."
"Maybe my dream changed," I whisper.
"Why?"
"Because I did," I say simply. It's the best answer I have for him. It's simple…but it's profoundly true, too. I've changed. I've grown. I'm a vastly different person than I was three years ago. And I'm a different person than I was a week ago, too. I'm not just going through the motions anymore, chasing a career because it's the only thing left. I feel like I'm living again. I'm breathing again. My dreams are different because I'm different.
"Holy shit," Lucy squeaks halfway through dinner, her fork clanging against her plate as she drops it. The whole table falls silent, turning to look at her.
"Shit," Lyra whispers beneath her breath like she's trying to commit the word to memory. "Shit, shit."
I bite my lip, fighting a giggle.
"What's wrong, baby girl?" Oliver asks his wife, his brows furrowed with concern.
"That's what's wrong," my best friend says, pointing at my hand. "She has a giant freaking rock on her finger!"
"Oh, pwetty," Lyra says, giving up learning how to curse to blink at my ring.
"Oh!" Gracie whispers, tugging on Trevor's sleeve. "Look, Trevor!"
I blush, fighting the urge to hide my hand behind my back as everyone blatantly stares at the ring Ridley placed there yesterday. Baby Lexi is the only one not staring. She's too busy trying to stuff macaroni noodles into her mouth by the fistfull.
It still doesn't feel real.
Honestly, everything feels like a dream right now. When I heard him talking about leaving yesterday, it felt like the world was crumbling beneath my feet. My heart was breaking all over again, and I was so mad—at him, at myself, at everything. But as soon as he told me what was really going on, I just felt…peace.
He wants me to stay. He just doesn't want me to sacrifice anything to do it. He's willing to give up everything to follow me. No one has ever cared about me like that before. I hate that we didn't have this three years ago. I hate that I ran and that he ran and we missed the chance to have all of this back then. But I think he was right yesterday. We didn't mess it up entirely. We just took a detour. And we're finally, finally heading in the right direction again now.
I don't know if I'll get the job tomorrow. It doesn't matter. I'll still have him. I'll still have this. That isn't a sacrifice. It's a future, and there is so much damn peace in it.
"You finally asked her to marry you, huh?" Oliver asks his brother, a big grin stretching across his face.
"Yeah, I did," Ridley says, his tone smug.
A disbelieving laugh spills from my lips. "You absolutely did not ask me, Ridley Goodson."
He narrows his eyes on me. But hey, I never agreed not to rat him out. I just agreed not to take any chances. We're getting married. Who cares if he asked before he slipped a ring on my finger or not? I certainly don't.
But watching him squirm a little is not a bad thing.
"So…you're not getting married?" Lucy asks, confused.
"We're getting married," Ridley growls.
"We are," I confirm. "But he didn't ask. He just put a ring on my finger and told me that he was going to tell everyone I said yes, so you'd all feel bad for him if I didn't marry him."
"Ridley Tatum Goodson!" Gracie gasps, turning wide eyes on her oldest son. "You did not."
"What? It worked, didn't it?" he asks, smirking.
Trevor throws his head back, a loud bark of laughter ripping from his lips. "Jesus Christ, son. That's genius. Why didn't I think of that?"
Gracie groans, shaking her head, but she can't hide the happy smile fighting to break free as she looks between me and Ridley.