Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
The Radio Flyer 4-in-1 Stroll ‘N Trike, in pink. It was like a stroller and tricycle all in one. She could learn how to pedal if she wanted, but it had a footrest for when she got too tired. I found myself tugging on the three-point harness and asking a teenage store clerk safety questions that made his face wrinkle like I’d just sprung a pop Physics quiz on him.
I arrived at the address Max had given me and was surprised to find it was a brownstone in Brooklyn rather than a swanky penthouse on the Upper East Side. I personally liked the quiet streets of this area, but Max had always been about the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.
I rang the bell, and Max opened the door. She was dressed in a white tank top, and it really hit me then how much weight she’d lost. When I’d seen her the other day, she’d had on a sweater. Of course I’d seen it in her thinned face, but that wasn’t the half of it. The full visual was pretty damn alarming. Her collarbones and shoulder blades jutted out—all the meat was gone. She was little more than a skeleton with skin, and that skin was sallow.
She stepped aside for me to enter. Apparently I hadn’t done such a good job of hiding my thoughts.
“It’s from the chemotherapy. That’s why I stopped it. Refractory vomiting. The anti-nausea and vomiting medicine stopped working. I couldn’t do it any more. I want to enjoy what time I have left with my daughter, not spend it with my head hanging in the toilet bowl.”
I nodded and walked in.
Max looked at her watch as we stood in the foyer. “Ella’s late getting up from her nap. She usually sleeps for an hour, but she’s a little over. I don’t wake her if she goes long. I feel like her body knows when it’s time to get up. But I can wake her if you want?”
Yes. I can’t stand here with just you.
“No. It’s fine. Let her wake up on her own.”
Note to self, nap length is determined by the child, not the adult. One less thing to Google. I felt like I should have a notepad and pen.
“I was just going to make some tea. I drag by the early afternoon. That’s why I only work mornings now. The caffeine helps me keep alert enough to watch Ella play. What can I make you?”
“Tea is fine.”
I didn’t really want to be inside Max’s place, and definitely not making small talk. But what the hell was I supposed to do?
On the way to the kitchen, I glanced around a bit. The brownstone she lived in was pretty damn nice—custom millwork, high ceilings, wide-plank, white oak flooring, glazed windows with stained glass, a shit ton of light.
“Nice place,” I said.
Max filled a cast iron kettle with water from the tap. “Thank you. It will be yours soon. I left it to you in my will.”
“What?”
She set the kettle on the stovetop and turned on the flame. “I bought it with the money I stole from you. It’s the least I could do. Don’t take under two million for it when you sell it. There’s no mortgage.”
She’d shocked me twice in the span of two minutes. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Thanks, I guess?”
Max leaned against the kitchen sink, while I stayed on the other side of the spacious center island. Distance from her was welcomed.
“There’s also ninety thousand in my savings and a term life insurance policy. I left the policy benefits to Ella, but you’re the trustee, so you can manage it for her.”
It was fucked up to be having this conversation. But when do you have this type of talk when you only have a few months to live? You never know what day will wind up being your last. No point in waiting.
“Okay. Any other legal things I should know?”
She looked me straight in the eyes. It was the first time I’d let that happen since I’d found out what she’d done. Even when she’d come to the prison to tell me my father died, I wouldn’t look at her. I couldn’t do it the other day at the park, either. But I did today for some reason. Maybe seeing her physically wasting away had given me an ounce of compassion.
“When I went to see Layla, I was curious about her—jealous, even. But I also wasn’t lying. Aiden stole all the money that we stole from you. You should get it back.”
I shook my head with a sardonic laugh. “You were really two peas in a pod, huh?”
“I’m sorry for what I did to you, Gray. I know there’s no apology big enough for losing years of your life. God knows I see that now. But I truly am.”