Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Lo watches me slowly undress her until she’s left in her T-shirt. Then her eyes follow me around the bed. I pull off my jeans, leave my T-shirt in place, and crawl into bed beside her. I don’t touch her. She rolls onto her side to face me, and I mirror her position, our heads resting on separate pillows. The mattress dips twice, Boris and Steve joining us and curling up at the end of the bed, and we lie in the dim light in silence until Lo’s eyes become heavy and I watch her lose her battle to sleep. Only when I know she’s in a deep slumber do I reach for her face and gently trace the contours of her cheek. “I love you,” I whisper, kissing the tips of my fingers and resting them on her forehead. “It was all for you.” My voice breaks. “I promise never to abandon you again.”
Even if it tortures me.
Because isn’t that what sacrificial love is?
Chapter Thirty-One
When I blink my eyes open, I spend a few sleepy minutes piecing together the evening before, wondering whether I’ve been dreaming. Then I feel the heat of her body pressed into my side and reality hits me. A reality where her world is falling apart and there is fuck all I can do about it. The notion kills me. No man wants to see the woman he loves so distraught, no matter what the reason may be.
I need to get out of the house and try to clear my head, so I leave Lo sleeping and quietly coax the dogs from the room. I walk for miles with Steve and Boris, through parks and down streets. The morning fog is low, the air damp, and my thoughts are as bleak as the weather. I let Steve rummage through the undergrowth while I stroll behind, Boris at my heels, inhaling the refreshing, clean cold air.
By the time I’ve made it home, I’m no clearer on what happens next.
I walk into the kitchen to find everyone, except Lo, drinking coffee at the breakfast bar. The quiet and pensive looks on all their faces tells me what the topic over caffeine has been. I drop the leads on the side, feed the dogs, and make sure the water bowl is full. “Her husband can’t have the lifesaving surgery he needs,” I say as I take two mugs down from the cupboard, killing the silence with my brutal announcement. No one responds, leaving me to push on. “The cancer’s spread too far. It’s too late. I should have tried to help sooner.” I pour the coffee and add milk.
“Daddy.” Tia comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my back. The display of comfort forces me to blink back the sting that’s threatening to turn into tears. “What you did was an incredibly selfless thing. You can’t blame yourself.”
I swallow and collect the coffees, turning so she’s forced to relinquish her squeeze.
“God has other plans, Grandboy.” Pops nods, as if he truly believes that. “No one can manipulate His plan.”
While I understand that my grandfather is trying to ease me, I can’t help but feel resentful. God’s plan sucks. “I’m going to take this up to Lo.” I look to Todd, who’s silent, thoughtful. “Would you mind taking Pops home?”
“Sure, not at all.” He stands, looking to Pops. “Fancy a breakfast date before I take you back to jail?”
“We’ll come too.” Tia rushes to invite herself and Trent, and everyone swings into action, gathering bags, coats, and the boyfriend. “I’ll call you later.” She reaches up and kisses my cheek before leaving with everyone else, so it’s only me and the dogs left in the kitchen. Not that they’re aware of the quick evacuation, their snouts buried in a bowl full of with biscuits. Poor Boris is probably wondering what kind of hotel this is, serving him puppy food.
On a heavy inhale, I make my way up the stairs and shoulder the door of my bedroom open. She’s still asleep, one thigh kicked over the duvet, her hands buried under the pillow. The sight of her, so consumed by sleep, brings a welcome smile to my face. Placing my coffee on the bedside, I sit on the edge of the bed, taking in her peaceful face. I feel cruel for waking her, for dragging her from the only respite to be found, but it’s nearly 9 a.m. She’ll want to call the hospital and check on Billy. I extend my hand to her face and sweep her hair from one eye. “Lo?”
She sighs, rolling onto her back, and languidly stretches out. Then she settles, drifting back off again.
“Lo, wake up.”
Her eyes flutter open, a frown immediately wriggling its way onto her forehead. She’s caught in limbo between sleep and consciousness, her eyes jumping around the room, her mind whirling. Propping herself up on her elbows, she finds me, opens her mouth, shuts it again, three times, before realization dawns on her.