Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
The woman interrupted my thoughts when she handed me two steaming coffees. I grabbed a cardboard sleeve for each before placing the lids on.
“Can I also have one of these, too?” I asked, pointing to the pink cake pops.
“Of course.”
After I paid and returned outside, I located Carys and Sunny walking in my direction. They hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took a moment to appreciate the beautiful woman who belonged to me and her adorable child. Sunny nearly toppled over as she made her way forward with a heavy pumpkin in hand. When she spotted me approaching, Carys bent down to point me out to Sunny. The look on Sunny’s face as she noticed me was priceless; she sped up, seeming eager to get to me and so proud to be holding that pumpkin. It was a small one, but somehow looked humongous in her little hands.
When she reached me, she held out the pumpkin. She’d wanted to give it to me. My heart clenched. I didn’t deserve the pedestal this little angel had put me on. The trust she placed in me was pure and unlike anything else I’d experienced.
“What did you do?” I knelt, putting the coffees and cake pop down on the pavement before holding out my hands. “Is that for me?”
Her cheeks reddened, as if she felt shy about giving it to me. It was adorable.
I took the pumpkin in one hand and pulled her close with the other. “Thank you so much. I love it,” I whispered in her ear. “And I love you, too.”
I meant every word. I loved Sunny.
Carys’s eyes locked on mine. Now she knew where my heart was. More and more, I’d surrendered to the fact that even if I hadn’t chosen this life, it had chosen me. And I felt like the luckiest man alive most days.
As for that doubt that gnawed at me? The voice that told me I didn’t deserve any of this? The voice that told me I would inevitably fail at this, just like everything else that had been important to me? I’d have to practice telling it to fuck off.
* * *
On the ride back to the city, we played some Bee Gees in the rental car and rolled the windows down on the highway.
Sunny loved the feel of the wind on her face, which triggered a fit of laughter and screams of joy. It had been an accidental discovery when I rolled the wrong window down on the way up here.
Her blond hair blew all over the place, her eyes half closed against the wind.
“She loves living on the edge,” I said over the noise. “Maybe she’ll grow up to be a biker chick.”
Carys laughed. “Let’s not wish for that. I’d worry too much.”
“But if it made her happy?”
She shrugged. “I’d have to suck it up.”
“Actually…” I admitted. “I don’t think I could handle Sunny riding a motorcycle. I’d be worried sick.”
Carys placed her hand on my knee. “Aw, that’s sweet.”
Those were the last words I remembered before the crash.
CHAPTER 22
Carys
THE ONLY CONSOLATION
Two Months Later
Simone was coming by today, and it was going to be hard to put the last couple of months into words. I didn’t want to talk about them, but it was time to let it all out. Today I’d rehash every painful detail. What had been like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from would now be essentially relived. In some ways, these weeks had gone by in a flash, and in others, it felt like forever since I’d seen Deacon.
Most mornings, I’d wake up, and it would take several seconds before reality set in—before it hit me all over again that Deacon was gone.
Deacon was gone.
No matter how often I went over everything in my mind, I’d never be able to wrap my head around him leaving New York. Was it a total surprise? No. He’d warned me. He’d warned me not to trust him, and I hadn’t listened. Wasn’t there a saying about that? When someone shows you who they are, believe them? Somehow I’d thought I’d be the person to change him, that his love for me would transcend his fears about getting involved with someone who had a child.
Something in him had snapped after the accident. He’d freaked out, and I couldn’t get the man I’d had before back. An accident had ruined his football career a decade ago, so maybe it was PTSD of some kind. Whatever it was, and wherever he was now, I hoped he was getting the help he needed.
It had been more than a month since Deacon left, and I would be explaining everything to Simone for the first time. She’d been in Paris, performing in a show there, when the accident happened. Even though she’d been back for a couple of weeks, I’d been too depressed to see her. But she’d insisted on coming to check on me today.