Holiday Heartstrings (Greyridge Book 1) by Lauren Greene

Author:Lauren Greene [Greene, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Autumn Ink Press
Published: 2023-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Hours later, I finally gathered my things to head home. As soon as the first guest announced they were finished eating, I figured it was acceptable for me to excuse myself also. Scooter was slurring his words, and Russell wasn’t far behind him. We’d already planned for them to sleep at Scooter’s parent’s house, so there was no need for me to stay and witness his inebriation.

He followed me to the door where I held nothing but my purse, insisting I’d have Scooter bring my special Christmas present home later that week.

“Pen.” Scooter took my palm in his hand and squeezed gently. I felt a drunken speech coming on, one that I’d normally cut off and redirect, but with the taste of Jamie’s kiss still lingering and my guilt about it sitting low in my gut, I let him go on. “You gon be my wife tomorrow. Affer allll this fucking time, I still want you. I still need you to take care of me for always.” His eyes bore into mine, glazed over but tender, and I hung my head to avoid making eye contact. “’M sooo lucky, babe. You’re gon be the best mom. Just like mine mom.” What? “And I know you’re gon be there for me no matter what.”

He tipped my chin up and kissed me. His breath tasted of whiskey and onion gravy from dinner. When he opened his mouth to slip his tongue into mine, I pulled back. He didn’t seem to notice my lack of reciprocation.

“Bye, Scoot,” I said and pulled the front door open. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t let Russell get you too drunk.”

He chuckled, then wiped moisture off his lips. “Oh, he’s gon give it to me good. My last night as a free man.”

I shook my head and stepped out into the frigid evening air. Scooter shut the door, but not before I took one more look at him to take in every detail of the man I was about to marry.

Waiting for my car to warm up in the driveway, I sat with those details. When I looked at Scooter, I didn’t see him physically, not anymore, at least. I’d grown so used to his handsome features that, even with his lack of graceful aging, I still found things to find attractive. But it wasn’t his looks that I saw tonight. It was the way he spoke to me. It was each sentence that started with I even in his drunken pre-wedding proclamation of love; he hadn’t mentioned one thing he loved about me. Unless I counted the fact that he said I’d be a good mother… like his mother. If that was what his expectations were, he was living on another planet.

I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror wondering who the woman looking back at me had become. My green eyes filled with tears and I knew, whoever she was, she wasn’t me, not the real me. The real me was stuffed away ten years back and covered in a blanket of grief and complacency.

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