Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
After dinner, I hung out with Ava as Henry went off to work in his office. We lay in bed looking over a few of the architecture books she’d received as a gift for her birthday. Ava was in love with the world of architecture and was certain she’d be the greatest architect the world had ever seen. She would’ve been thrilled to meet Gabriel. I loved escaping into her visions and dreams of her future. I loved how much she shared with me, too. For a while, I worried about her becoming a teenager and blocking me out, but if anything, we were closer than ever. She even opened up about how she’d been bullied before for her weight. I offered to help her and set her up with a therapist. Yet knowing I was a safe place for her meant more than anything to me. I’d always be in her corner.
After she headed to bed, I went to my room to get ready to sleep. I found Henry in bed already, with a dozen books scattered around. If my husband was going to do just one thing, that would be researching technology to help with his business. Half the time, his books took up more space in our bed than I did.
I washed my face and slipped into my pajamas before crawling into my side of the bed. We shared a California king. Sometimes when I was in that bed, I felt so far away from him, but we weren’t a cuddly couple. I’d be shocked if our feet even touched beneath the comforter.
I clicked off my nightstand lamp and fluffed my pillow a little before melting into a comfortable sleeping position.
“I’ll have the light off soon,” Henry said as he flipped a page in his book. “Maybe another hour.”
“That’s fine.” I turned to face him. My heart was scattered in a few places that evening. A part of it went to bed with Ava, another part was left thinking about Gabriel, and the rest remained hovering over Henry’s and my room. “Henry?”
“Hmm?”
“Are we happy?”
He glanced my way and lowered his reading glasses for a moment before turning back to his novel. “Let’s not do this tonight, Kierra.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ask these stupid questions. Of course we’re happy. We have everything we could ever need.”
“Like?”
“Money,” he said. “Success, and Ava. I have everything I need.”
“Is there anything I could do to make you happier?”
He leaned over and smiled before kissing my head. “You could go to sleep and stop overthinking.”
“Okay.” I shifted slightly before turning away from him. “Good night.”
“Night.”
I fell asleep for a little while before I was awakened by Henry shaking my arm. “Hey, Kierra. Wake up.”
I grumbled a little and rubbed my eyes. “Yeah?”
“I was thinking about your question. About how you could make me happier.”
I turned, somewhat surprised. “You woke me up to tell me that?”
“Yeah. I figured if I didn’t, I’d forget.”
“Okay.” I yawned. “What can I do?”
“Drink differently.”
I sat up. “What?”
“During the dinner parties. You always wear your red lipstick, then you sip out of your glass all around the rim, getting lipstick all over. It would make me happy if you drank from the same spot. It’s embarrassing having others see how you drink.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, okay, Henry.” His intense stare gave me a bit of a shock. I sat up straighter. “You’re serious.”
“I am. It’s ridiculous. No grown woman should leave three different lipstick stains on one glass.”
Oh.
Wow.
“I’ll try to do better,” I muttered as I lay back down.
“Don’t try, just do. You’re not weak. You can avoid getting lipstick everywhere. Even Ava does better than you with that,” he said before shutting off his lamp. “Night.”
***
When Monday came, I decided to skip my morning muffin and head straight into the office. I wasn’t ready to face having a seemingly innocent run-in with Gabriel. Even though such a big part of me craved crashing into him again. Instead, I needed input on my current situation from those whose opinions I’d valued the most.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who happened to be my best friend and first love? Who has no recollection of me at all because he lost his memory?” I blurted out to Joseph as he stood in the office relaxation room, brewing a cup of coffee.
He turned to face me and arched an eyebrow. “Happy Monday to you, too.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Happy Monday. How was your trip? I hope it was amazing and just out of curiosity…” I walked over to the countertop where the coffee machine was, hopped on top of it, and kicked my feet back and forth. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who completely lost his memory of me, even though he was the biggest part of my life until I was almost twenty years old? And then he randomly showed up to my husband’s dinner party as the architect building our new house? And he felt like we knew each other, but he didn’t remember, even though a big part of me wishes he remembered, but I don’t want him to remember everything because everything wasn’t good, but it also wasn’t all bad.”