Weak for Him

Начало книги

The real estate agent marked a giant black X beside the line at the bottom of the contract and handed me the pen. I understood the terms and conditions. I had read them at least twenty times over the past few days, but as my pen hit the paper, I froze.

"Sign on this line, Jennifer. Unless you're having second thoughts."

She tapped the paper with her pink manicured nail, causing her bracelets to jingle.

The people who wanted the house said they would convert it into a bed and breakfast for all the tourists visiting the Golden Triangle, a quaint area in Texas, known for oil and the home of Janis Joplin. I would miss the little things, like the Groves town square and the Pecan Festival, but they would always hold a place in my heart. The worn boards, double windows, and wraparound porch would be fully appreciated by someone else.

Every detail about the house, the way the shutters haphazardly hung on the upper windows, the boards that creaked on the stairs, and the rounded corners of the island in the kitchen, were a constant reminder of how my life changed when a reckless driver slammed into my parents' SUV.

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