Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Mary!” She grabs me in a hug.
“He’s okay. I just saw him. He’s asleep, but the nurses promised me his vitals are good.”
“Thank God.”
I hold onto her hands. “I don’t know much, Yvette, but it looks like this gunshot wound to his abdomen may have saved his life.”
I expect her to look surprised, but she doesn’t.
“Don’t you want to know how?”
“Of course.”
I relay the story to her about the possible pancreatic cancer.
“The lab hasn’t come back yet, but the surgeon was almost sure it was cancer. And if they got good margins…he’s going to be fine.”
“The universe works in mysterious ways,” is all she says.
Then she closes her eyes, clasps her hands together, looks up to the ceiling.
She’s praying or spellcasting.
And I have so much respect for her in this moment.
“You can probably go in and see him for a minute if you want,” I say a few moments later, when she opens her eyes.
“Yes, I’ll see if that’s possible. His parents are on their way. They should be here tomorrow.”
“I should probably go.”
“Nonsense.”
“I’m not family,” I say. “They’ve only been giving me information because there’s no one else here.”
“I feel very strongly, Mary, that you will be family.”
Her words give me a sliver of hope.
“I would like that. But I’m just glad he’s okay. I’ll walk away if I have to.” I turn.
Yvette grabs my arm, and when I turn back, the look on her face is stern, and despite her four feet ten inches of height, she is a force in this room. “You will not. You fight for him.”
“Oh, absolutely. I didn’t mean to sound like I wouldn’t. But if, in the end, I’m not what he wants, I will walk away. Because what I want more than anything, Yvette, is his happiness.”
“And that’s why you’re the one for him, Mary.” She reaches up and cups both my cheeks. “Don’t you see? That’s what true love is.”
“How can I be in love with him? Don’t get me wrong, I am in love with him. But we’ve known each other for only a week.”
“Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes not so much. Love can’t be defined, chérie.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she gestures me not to.
“I felt very strongly when I first saw the two of you together that you were meant to be. I’m not usually wrong.”
“But he…”
“I know.” She smiles. “He’s a businessman, first and foremost. He doesn’t concern himself with emotion.” Her monotone makes me chuckle. “That can lead to a very lonely life, Mary. When you get to a certain age, you realize your life is built on straw.”
“Straw?”
“You need a foundation. You can have all the money in the world, all the things in the world, but if you don’t have someone to share it with…will you ever truly be happy?”
“I’ve turned off my emotions for so long,” I tell her. “I was hurt once.”
“You’re young.”
“Yes, but is that an excuse?”
“Not an excuse. A reason. Young people make mistakes. It’s how they grow. But you can’t let one bad experience turn you off relationships forever.”
“Is that what you think Ronan has done?”
“In a way, yes,” she says. “But I’m not sure he’s ever been hurt, Mary. Not in the way you were.”
“Who could hurt him? I mean…look at him.”
“Oh yes, he’s very strong, my Ronan. But he’s been hurt in other ways. He didn’t have the love of his mother and father. I basically raised him.”
“He mentioned as much.”
“Declan was always running back and forth to the UK on business, and Simone would go with him sometimes. She loves Ronan. But she also loved being the wife of a jet-setting multimillionaire. The little boy… Well, he got in the way of that.”
My heart breaks a little then.
Breaks for that big, strong man lying in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, breaks for the little boy he was. A freckle-faced little redheaded boy who only wanted his parents. Their presence. Their love.
“I’m sure you gave him all the love he needed, Yvette.”
“I certainly did my best, but I was running a restaurant as well. Ronan grew up there.”
A nurse comes out. “Ronan O’Connor?”
Yvette and I both stand.
“He’s awake. He’s asking for someone named Mary?”
My skin warms. “I’m Mary, but this is his grandmother, Yvette Thibodeaux. She should see him first.”
Yvette smiles at me, squeezes my hand. “Nonsense. He’s asking for you, and I want him to have what he needs. What he yearns for.”
“If you’re sure.”
She leans toward me and whispers, “Did you use the love spell?”
“It wasn’t a spell, Yvette. But you already know that.”
Yvette shakes her head and smiles warmly. “It was a note written from a grandmother’s love. My love poured through the ink in that pen and onto the parchment. So yes, it was a spell. I knew you were special when I first laid eyes on you, Mary. I believe you’re what my grandson needs. Could I be wrong? Of course. Nothing is ever set in stone. But if he’s asking for you, my dear, you must go to him.”