The Ways We Fall Apart (The Parker Tales Book 1) by Christina Coryell

Author:Christina Coryell [Coryell, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

Having a relaxing shopping morning had seemed heavenly, but I failed to take into account the fact that I was still in the city where baseball never sleeps. Someone was bound to recognize me. When they did, they’d tell Twitter that I wasn’t supporting my husband at his game. Parker’s Babe would display her goods in a selfie that exhibited her presence at the game, attempting to indicate that she would be a better match for my husband. They might even start a new hashtag.

#parkerneedsarealwoman

I didn’t want to be a hashtag. Unless it was a really cool hashtag, like one promoting my books. Maybe #mustreadcamdyntaylor.

Who would rat me out? A random teenager shopping with her friends? Fresh out of college guy working at the sporting goods store? Maybe a sullen clerk ringing up fast food tacos?

“Are you hungry?” Trina asked, looking longingly at a pretzel shop.

I shivered as my eyes focused not on the pretzels, but on the girl behind the counter. Wearing her blue pretzel garb and a disinterested expression, I couldn’t tell whether she was a secret baseball fanatic. “Not really. All I ever do anymore is eat, sleep, and watch baseball. I could probably skip food for a week and be totally fine with it.”

She kept her focus directed toward the snacks until we had passed. “Your life sounds like Charlie’s version of an evening well spent. Eat, sleep, and baseball.”

“I’d trade him places for an evening or two, even with the screaming at night.”

We strolled into a clothing store, where Trina grabbed a pair of jeans and held them up, then glanced at her figure. “Is your life really that bad? And good call on the pretzel. All I did is look at one and now I can’t fit into these jeans.”

As if I could answer a question like that honestly. Especially in public where anyone could be filming me. A quick glance around revealed no one suspicious. “No, it’s not that bad. It can’t be, can it? Different is all, and I’ll get used to it.” I pulled a plaid shirt from the rack and studied it, trying to judge whether I liked the shade of green before I slid it back into place. “Quick question: Does Charlie ever . . .”

The words stuck on my lips, so I bit them back and turned my focus to a pair of cowboy boots that were definitely not my style.

Trina went on rifling through the jeans like she was looking for a diamond in a dust pile. “Does Charlie what?”

I leaned closer so I could whisper. “Try to . . .” Asking this was harder than coming up with my own hashtag. “Try to direct you? I swear lately Cole’s been trying to cast me in the movie version of his life. If I don’t get the line perfect, he moves me into whatever frame he’s imagined and goes for a reshoot.”

She abandoned the jeans and stared instead at the mannequin in front of her, eyes narrowing. “I can’t even pretend that I know what you’re talking about.

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