Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
He no longer slumped the way she’d remembered. Now he stood tall, his broad shoulders squared and his biceps stretching the short sleeves of his T-shirt. His skin was darker, a beautiful copper, and his hair was still that same glossy black, pin straight but cut shorter than the last time she’d seen him.
His face. Gosh, his face was beautiful. She remembered thinking he was a good-looking kid in high school, despite his lack of style, and the fact that he obviously hadn’t come into himself. But she hadn’t known the half of it. Because at some point, Rex Lowe had come into himself, and surely the heavens must have rejoiced in the same way she believed it did when a butterfly unfurled its wings.
Ugh. What is the point of this? She set her glass down a little too hard on the counter, fearing for a moment that she’d broken it. Just be happy the man didn’t allow the injustice he suffered eleven years ago to ruin him. There is no need for you to harbor guilt for your part. He landed on his feet. He’s obviously just fine.
She pulled on a pair of pj’s before parking herself on the couch with a glass of wine.
She wasn’t in the habit of watching the news, but when she clicked the TV on, it was still on a channel that she’d been watching a few days before, and Hollis Barclay’s face filled the screen. “You have got to be kidding me,” she murmured. The past was really bound and determined to sweep the rug from under her today. And yet she couldn’t help sitting forward, her gaze moving over his chiseled face as he stood on a stage speaking before a large audience of rally-goers.
“And that’s why, Virginia, I’m asking for your vote, come November!” The crowd went wild, waving signs and dancing to the music that began blasting from the sound system. Hollis grinned, raising his hand and waving to the crowd, then doing a little shoulder shimmy that made the crowd cheer louder. Hollis laughed in a way that she supposed was meant to be self-deprecating and then turned, reaching his arms out as a gorgeous, slender blond walked across to him from the wings. He embraced her, leaning in and kissing her on the lips as they spoke for a moment, matching smiles gracing their beautiful faces. Then Hollis walked to the edge of the stage and began leaning down and shaking hands with those near the front who were reaching for him and lifting handheld flags. Behind him, the woman waved at the crowd, her smile never budging.
The picture returned to the newscaster, a woman with shoulder-length waves that didn’t move when she did, and false eyelashes that made Cami’s eyes feel heavy just looking at them. “Folks, that was Hollis Barclay speaking to Virginia voters and laying out his economic plan that has the endorsement from trusted economists from all over the state, joined by his fiancée, Seraphina Arnoult. The campaign has caught major momentum in the last few months, and Hollis Barclay is way up in the polls going into the primary in November.”
November. Less than three months, and Hollis would likely be a United States congressman, representing Virginia. Just as he’d planned.
She’d known Hollis was running for a congressional seat, known he was on the campaign trail and making appearances all over the state. She’d known that he’d graduated from Princeton and then gone to law school after that and passed the bar on the first try and had been working at some big-league law firm in Richmond. It was impossible to live in a small town and not hear everything—whether you wanted to or not, whether you actively avoided it or not—through one grapevine or another. Especially when you ran a business that brought you into contact with citizens from all walks of life.
And if she’d known he would show up, live and in color, on the screen in her living room, she never would have picked up the remote. She had no more feelings for Hollis, other than a vague resentment that only reared its ugly head when she heard his name mentioned or randomly saw him on the news. Otherwise, her thoughts seldom drifted his way.
She thought about their son all the time, however. And maybe that was why the visual of Hollis’s face brought with it a sharp ache. Looking at Hollis’s features made her wonder if their child had his cheekbones, or his chin, or maybe he had the exact shade of his hair. Or maybe he still overwhelmingly resembled her, the way he had at birth.
She wondered what his adoptive parents had named him.
And though thoughts of him still brought a twinge of longing, she was also at peace knowing that he was out there somewhere living the happy, carefree life he deserved. A life where he had two loving parents and maybe a family pet. A life that had begun with an emotionally healthy family, not a traumatized teenager who woke up screaming more often than not, tearing at the invisible tape stretched across her mouth and hearing the echo of the gunshots that had stolen half her family.