Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It seems no matter how many arguments I make, she has a counterargument prepared. If I didn’t know better, I would think she’d already thought this through before we ever took off.
Who am I kidding? I know she has. It’s who she is.
“You can wait at the house. I can have you driven—”
“You’re not getting rid of me, so you might as well not bother trying.” I recognize the firm set of her jaw and the steely look in her eyes. I’m not getting around her. I’m not sure I want to, either.
At the end of the day, there might be something to be said for having someone by my side at a time like this. Is this what it means to not be alone? Is this why it’s so important for some people to have someone in their life? I always told myself I was beyond that, that I was a curse. It isn’t like I ever had a solid example of how to be a good husband. I imagined anyone I met would be better off without me.
But no matter how I try to push her away, she keeps coming back. She insists on being part of my life, standing beside me as I go through this.
“So long as you can stand back and allow me to do what needs to be done.”
“I won’t get in your way.”
I’ll have to take her word for it.
We’re silent along the way to the doctor’s office. There’s nothing to be said, really. She knows what I’m thinking—if anything, it’s unnerving, the sense of being seen so thoroughly. Understood. Yet she has the tact and intelligence not to make a thing of it. She keeps to herself, as I do, but that’s all right. I prefer it that way.
I already did my homework on where the office is located, the doctor’s history—everything I could find online. It seems he’s highly respected and handles a rather exclusive clientele. In other words, patients with the sort of money my grandfather had. He operates out of a small villa on a lake not twenty minutes from the estate. Convenient for all those trips grandfather took.
When we enter, an attractive middle-aged woman immediately jumps up from her chair. “Scusi—”
“Do you speak English?” She nods. “Good. I would rather my wife understand without my having to play interpreter. I’m here to see the doctor.”
“What is your name?”
“Enzo De Luca.” Her eyes widen as I expected. “Yes, my grandfather was a patient. That’s what I’ve come here to discuss with the doctor.”
“It is… confidential.” Yet I can tell from her sort of vague, half-hearted reaction that she knows it’s no use. She’s only saying what she knows must be said. If this woman is at all familiar with my family, she has to know it’s no use trying to dissuade me from getting the answers I want.
I’m ready to draw my gun in case that convinces her, but a door behind her swings open before I can make a move. A gray-haired gentleman in a suit and white coat regards us. “Mr. De Luca. Your grandfather told me to expect you.”
He’s an old man, around the same age my grandfather was. A doctor of his age would be full of secrets. I wonder how many of them he plans on taking to his grave, a grave he’ll reach much sooner than planned if he so much as considers withholding information from me now.
He steps aside so Alicia and I can enter his office, and I get a quick look at his worried assistant before he closes the door. “So my grandfather told you to expect me?”
“He spoke very highly of you.” He has a gentle, paternal energy about him. I’m sure he thinks that will get him somewhere.
“He didn’t think highly enough of me to be honest with me, though, did he?”
The old man winces in obvious discomfort. The light on his desk reflects in his glasses as he removes them, cleaning them on his necktie. “He did not share his inner thoughts with me, Mr. De Luca. I cannot say for sure what they consisted of.”
My patience is already wearing thin. “What about his physical condition? Are you in a position to discuss that?”
“Mr. De Luca, you must understand. Confidentiality is key.”
“What about this?” Alicia gasps softly when I pull my gun and aim it at the old man’s head. “How does this stack up to confidentiality?”
He holds up his trembling hands. “Please, there is no need for—”
“Don’t tell me what there is and isn’t a need for,” I snap. “Now, you listen to me. I want you to tell me exactly why he was seeing you. What was wrong with him. All of it. Or else you and that woman out there won’t live to see tomorrow. Do you understand?”