Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“He’s leaving you, so I’m inclined to say yes. It’s just good manners.” I laugh.
She does not.
What’s happening?
“Who died? It wasn’t me. Not yet anyway.” When I turn back toward her, Scottie slowly lifts her gaze.
In a blink, tears fill her eyes.
I step toward her, and she shakes her head, holding up a flat palm. “Don’t.”
“Scottie, what is it?”
“I almost died.”
“What?”
She looks fine. No cuts or visible bruises. Her gray off-the-shoulder blouse looks okay, but she does have a hole in the knee of her baggy jeans. I’d let my mind make pointless observations about her all day if I thought it might keep her from delivering the awful news she’s prepared for me.
“We broke up. You went back to school. And I was heartbroken. I thought you’d come for me. I thought you’d tell me how stupid I was to let us end, but you didn’t.”
“Scottie—”
Again, she cuts me off with a headshake. “I missed my period, but I thought it was stress, and my periods were often irregular. After all, we were careful. Eventually, I started bleeding. At first, I thought it was finally my period, but things weren’t right. I felt so sick. I stayed in bed for two days before I called my mom. She wasn’t too far from my apartment, but I lost consciousness before she got there. I almost died.” She wipes her face.
The last time I felt like this was when a second doctor confirmed my cancer diagnosis.
My need to hold her is unbearable.
“It was an ectopic pregnancy.” Her lower lip quivers while she sniffles. “I was pregnant with your baby. And I thought losing it was fate because you didn’t fight for me. You didn’t come back for me. Losing the baby was confirmation that what we had wasn’t meant to be. Everything we had together … died.”
“Scottie,” I whisper. This fucking hurts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I would have.” She laughs through her tears. “Trust me; I would have if I wouldn’t have lost the baby. I would have knocked on your door and told you it was our sign to be together. Do you know how many times I've thought about us over the past twelve years? How many times I’ve imagined what it would have been like to be with you? To have a family with you? And then you showed up out of nowhere. And I was elated to see you, and you seemed happy to see me too, but not in the same way. So, once again, I felt rejected. Then Koen came along and took my heart so completely it no longer longed for you.”
She shrugs. “And I thought you’d have this spark of jealousy, but you didn’t. Then, I concluded you simply never loved me the way I loved you. And for once, it no longer mattered because I’d met Koen. When you meet the one, every other star in the sky fades.”
I rub my face, leaving my hand over my mouth while slowly shaking my head. “I’ve thought about you—”
“No.” She balls her fists. “You thought about me when you thought you were dying. And I can’t tell you,” she presses her fisted hand to her chest, “how that makes me feel.” When she starts to speak, her words catch, and she releases more tears. “I f-felt … I f-feel so honored t-to be that person. I left Philly t-to get away f-from everything that reminded me of y-you. But distance d-didn’t matter.”
“Scottie, we made a baby,” I whisper because I need to say the words aloud for myself. And I need her to know how deeply I feel her confession. “I would have wanted that life with you.”
She casts her gaze to the floor between us, eyes narrowed. “You have that life … just not with me.”
In the next breath, her eyes are on me. “You did love me. But …” Her face wrinkles in pain. “You have a wife and daughter.”
My lungs deflate. And I feel everything.
A painful longing.
A hollowed heart.
Regret.
And shame.
“Yes,” I manage to say past my constricted throat.
“Do you love them?”
“Unequivocally.” Emotion blurs my vision.
Scottie runs her hands through her hair, cheeks stained red and covered in tears. Then she averts her gaze to the side, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. When she looks at me again, I know she sees everything.
And then … her arms wrap around me.
At first, I don’t move.
Then, I don’t breathe, trying to ward off the pain.
I lose.
My body shakes while I hug Scottie like I want to squeeze us into one person. And then … I cry.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
PARIS WILL HAVE TO WAIT.
Five Months Earlier …
“Happy anniversary.” Amelia wakes me with breakfast in bed. The sun’s not up. Astrid’s still asleep. And my five o’clock alarm hasn’t gone off yet.
Who am I kidding? It’s the middle of the night.