AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And, truthfully, it’s not all that expensive, just some gemstones, maybe even a few crystals, but there’s also a pair of minuscule diamonds at the center.
I know they’re real diamonds.
Because I bought this for my grandma.
Saved up for ages to afford it.
Now the pup I love has chewed it and there are missing stones in the wings, and one of those diamonds has disappeared into the ether—
That is Steve’s digestive system.
My heart pulses as I run my finger over the rough surface, feeling the bumps of each stone against my pads.
“It’s just stuff,” I whisper, shoving it back into my pocket.
But it doesn’t feel like just stuff.
It feels like more.
My head is pounding and I want to say it’s because I drank too much, it’s because I’m nursing a hangover.
That’s a lie.
The aches in my heart and head are because my sister just…took the jewelry and left without a backward glance. She didn’t drive up in the middle of a snowstorm to make things right with me, to apologize.
She wanted something.
And George, what? Was mad I left without a word? Wanted his maid and laundry girl back? Really needed my recipe for meatloaf? Itiskickass, but…I don’t think it’s any of those. I think he was seriously shocked that Iwouldleave.
I hadn’t before.
I put up with everything, took it. Because that’s what I do.
Run off my back. I don’t care if you hurt me. It doesn’t matter because I’m fine—I’malwaysfine.
Or maybe Ashley just wanted the jewelry.
I rub at my forehead, find I don’t have any more space in my brain for George.
He’s gone, hopefully forever, and I don’t have to look too closely at the reasons we were together, at why I picked someone like him to be with in the first place, to be with for so long.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say out loud.
“I find that usually the more I say that, the more itdoesmatter.”
Gasping, I turn around and see Lake standing there shirtless and beautiful, Steve tucked under one arm, looking much more alert this morning.
“It’s time for his medicine,” Lake says, moving toward me and passing my pup over. “Why don’t you get that for him, and then I’ll take him out to the bathroom and make us all breakfast.”
Drawing my brows together, I shake my head. “You don’t have to—”
But he’s already turning away, disappearing back down the hall.
By the time I wrap a pill in a piece of cheese and feed Steve his breakfast, Lake is back, socks on his feet and tugging a shirt over his torso.
Sad, that.
Covering all that muscled gloriousness.
