Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I reach over the table to squeeze her arm. “Oh, Livy, I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. I don’t regret meeting Harvey, not even for a second. Every moment we had together was magic. He gave me enough to last me a lifetime. You see, when he passed away, my love didn’t die. I love him still, to this day.”
My chest squeezes with compassion. “Aren’t you ever lonely?”
“I like my own company. I have a full life. I plan on enjoying each second until I skid into my grave.” She holds up a finger. “I could do a knee-slide and some serious head banging on the way out. I’ve always liked to shake my hair with my booty. That will be a grand way to make an exit.”
I laugh, imagining the scene. “You’re something else.”
She winks. “I should change my repertoire. My choreography needs something a little livelier.” She pushes a plated piece of pie my way. “What about you? Is Saverio the one?”
I pick up my cake fork, toying with the flower design on the handle. “We’re getting married.”
“Anya.” She clasps a hand over her mouth. “That’s wonderful.” She jumps up and comes around the table before framing my face between her willowy fingers and kissing my cheek. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful news.” When I don’t reply immediately, she pulls away with a frown. “This is what you want, right?” She pauses. “Wait. Who proposed? You or him?”
I clear my throat, choosing my words carefully. “It’s Saverio’s idea.”
“But?”
“He’s not doing it for the right reasons.”
“Oh,” she says slowly. “You think he’s marrying you because of the baby. Well, of course he is. That’s what any gentleman would do. I’d be disappointed in him if he didn’t. That doesn’t mean he’s marrying you for the wrong reasons, my darling child. It’s obvious he’s crazy about you. He just wants to take care of you, and that says a lot about the kind of man he is.” She grips my shoulder and says with a gentle smile, “Not every man would accept to raise another man’s baby.”
If only she knew the man she defends is blackmailing me with her life.
After dropping the bomb last night, Saverio promised he’d pay me a fair salary so that I’d have my own money. He knows how important my financial independence is to me. Safety and financial stability seem very attractive in my current situation, but it’s the how and not necessarily the what that’s the problem. Because the marriage he proposed is nothing but a business deal, an exchange for services.
I’m not a romantic like Livy, but I never thought I’d marry for all the wrong reasons. I thought I’d tie the knot with someone who loved and respected me.
Perhaps Saverio doesn’t care because he already married someone he loved and respected. Maybe a second marriage isn’t such a big deal to him. From what he told me about the arranged marriages between the powerful families, in their eyes, marriage is always just another business transaction.
For the rest of the visit, Livy peppers me with questions about the baby and the pregnancy. I let her do most of the talking, taking solace in her company until it’s time to let her rest.
After leaving her place, I ask Kevin to take me to the rehabilitation center.
Bertrand is surprised to see me. It’s not my regular visiting day.
“Are you on leave?” he asks, opening the door wider.
“In between jobs,” I say with a strained smile. “I’m not coming inside today.”
“Oh.”
He steps outside and closes the door before leaning on the wall in a sunny spot with one leg bent and his Croc braced on the bricks. I appreciate him all the more for doing this. He doesn’t have to make time for me.
He takes a packet of gum from his pocket and offers it to me.
I shake my head.
He pops one into his mouth and stares at the clouds that draw close in the sky. “It’s going to rain this afternoon. The snow will come early this year.”
“How’s your daughter doing?” I ask. “Has the baby arrived?”
A grin splits his face. “On Thursday morning at two-thirty-five. A beautiful, healthy boy. Seven pounds eight ounces and nineteen point seven inches.”
“Congratulations.” Happiness warms my chest. “What’s his name?”
“They’re revealing it at the Christening.” He chuckles. “It’s a clever way of avoiding the family fight that broke out about what the first grandson should be called.”
I smile. “That sounds wise. I’m glad they’re both doing fine. You’ll make a great granddad.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I hope so.” He shoots me a grin. “My daughter didn’t turn out too bad, so there’s that.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” I say a little wistfully. “Your grandson too.”
He accepts the compliment gracefully, acknowledging it with a warm smile.
A comfortable silence falls between us. It’s one of the qualities I love most about Bertrand. He only speaks when he has something meaningful to say. He doesn’t suffer from the need to pollute a perfectly peaceful moment with verbal diarrhea.