A Heart of Time by Shari J. Ryan

A Heart of Time by Shari J. Ryan

Author:Shari J. Ryan [Ryan, Shari J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781532928840
Amazon: 153292884X
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2016-05-10T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWELVE

FEBRUARY

-Two Months Later-

Vacuuming up the last of the left over carpet shreds, my focus is drawn to AJ leaning up against the far wall, staring down at his phone. An unsettled look is playing across his face and I can’t figure out what has gotten into him. “How did last night go? Did you finally tell Alexa?” I ask him.

“It’s not important,” he mumbles, typing something into his phone. His jaw is grinding back and forth and he’s spurting out short breaths, something he tends to do when he’s either upset or pissed off.

“Dude, something is obviously going on.”

“Shit, Hunter, can you give me a fucking minute?” I walk over to him, ignoring his request because God knows he’d do the same to me. He’s done the same to me. Whenever I need space, he smothers me and crowds me into a corner until I break. I guess that’s how we show brotherly love. “Don’t do this right now,” he snaps, as he chucks his phone across the room. I watch as the thing bounces off of the opposite wall.

“This isn’t our house,” I remind him. “Talk to me. Just take a breath. Something.”

“Yeah, I did it last night,” he grits out. “I told her I wanted a fucking divorce.” It only took him two months to finally say it to her.

“That’s good, right?” I ask. “Isn’t that what you wanted to do?”

“Yeah,” he shouts. “That is what I wanted to do.” I’m not sure I’m following right now. What is there to be so pissed off about if this is what he wanted? “Shit. Shit. Shit!” Running across the room, he grabs his phone from the ground—lifting it, inspecting it. I can’t tell if it shattered or not but I’m assuming it didn’t since he’s hitting more buttons.

He lifts the phone to his ear as he runs his fingers through the thick of his hair. His focus meets mine for a brief second but now he’s storming off toward the other end of the house. I follow him, though. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, his voice is low and soft. He doesn’t want me to hear, which is all the more reason for me to listen. “How do you know?” There’s silence on his end of the call while I assume he’s listening to whoever is on the other end. “Those things aren’t always accurate.” Another pause follows, likely filled with words I wish I could hear. “Hello? Jesus. Hello?”

AJ turns around, finding me less than a few feet away. Anger is staining the whites of his eyes red. “She’s fucking knocked up,” he says through gritted teeth.

Oh shit. The words, “Is it yours?” are probably not the best-chosen words at this precise second but it’s exactly what comes out of my mouth. Of course it’s his. Well, maybe it’s his.

“Are you asking me if she’s been fucking other guys? Because I wouldn’t put it past her! What the hell am I supposed to



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