He was pretty sure that The Story of Me was actually the story of Sophie. He’d been reading the book for the last three days picking it up whenever he wasn’t helping Sophie and now he was near the end. He paused and placed the book face down on the table, and then he stared out across the dining room, not quite looking at anything. It was Sophie’s favorite tea and though he’d only ever drank Lipton’s, this was now his favorite too.
Lucas was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a mug of pomegranate tea and reading. He propped his pillows up against the head board and opened the book. Lucas checked for messages none, then he headed downstairs and picked up the thickest novel The Story of Me. She seemed to immediately become engrossed in writing.
They drove home, talking animatedly about all things from reality TV, to music and of course her favorite topic food.īack at the house, Sophie went to her office and turned on music. That’s the first one I wrote, and it’s more true to what I was trying to say.” “Be kind when you read them, and read The Story of Me first. You have some writing to do and I want to start reading a certain writer friend’s novel.” “No, I’m good.” He waved the waitress over for the check. “Order desert if you want, but I can’t eat another bite.” “Ugh…are you trying to make me vomit?” He chuckled. “We could order desert and take it home,” he responded. Lucas laughed almost giddily and together they had appetizers consisting of fried mushrooms, chicken wings, cheese fries and for their entrée Sophie had the rib and chicken combination while Lucas polished off a large porterhouse with all of the trimmings.Īs Sophie leaned back in her chair rubbing her swollen belly and fearing that she would cause the chair to collapse, Lucas was chewing the last dinner roll that remained in the basket.
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