Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I still can’t believe my mother wrote it. That Jonathan Bridger forced her hand the way he did.
Chance pulls up a chair and sits at Grady’s bedside. He fingers a lock of his son’s red hair. “He’s beautiful, Avery.”
I nod. “He is. He’s everything to me.”
“He is to me too. Now that I know he exists.”
Without meaning to, I choke out a sob. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t come here to yell,” Chance says. “Or to make you feel guilty. I’ll never understand how all this happened to us. How my old man could be such an unfeeling sociopath, playing around with people’s lives.”
I say nothing.
“If I’d known…” He shakes his head.
“Your father fixed it so you’d never know,” I tell him. “My mom told me everything.”
“How could a father hate his own son so much?” Chance looks at the ceiling.
“It wasn’t you he hated. It was me, Chance. He didn’t want us together. He thought I was trash.”
“He was trash, but I knew the man. He didn’t hate you, Avery. Who could hate you? He didn’t know you. All he knew was that you made me happy, and he took you away from me because of that alone.”
I don’t have the stamina to argue the point. While I agree that Jonathan Bridger had no love for his son, I also believe he didn’t want his son with the likes of me. What does it even matter at this point? It is what it is.
I glance at the flowers. They’re odd, and something I’ve never seen. The bright orange blooms look like they’d be more at home on the head of a tropical bird than in a bouquet. “What are those?”
He chuckles. “Ugly, aren’t they? They’re called birds of paradise. You’re supposed to bring flowers when you come to the hospital, but what the hell kind of flowers do you bring to a guy? So I went into the gift shop downstairs, and this is what they suggested.”
“You didn’t have to. Grady hates flowers.”
“So did I at his age,” he replies. “Damn. I know absolutely nothing about my own son.”
Words catch in my throat. He’s right. He doesn’t.
“Tell me about him, kitten.”
“He’s got a good heart. And he’s great at sports. Basketball and football are his favorites. He’s smart. Loves science and math. And he loves that damned skateboard. And video games. He’s stubborn and muleheaded, like someone else I know.”
Chance smiles. “I used to love basketball and football.”
“I know. I was there.”
“But I hate video games.”
“He may look like your clone, but he’s his own person. He’s not going to be a carbon copy of you.”
“I know that.” Chance finally removes his Stetson and places it next to the vase of flowers on the counter along the far wall. “Avery, tell me what to do. How do I make this right?”
“We can’t go back to the past, Chance.”
“Why the hell not? I have everything, Avery. I can give the two of you a good life. You’ll live on the ranch. Your mom too. I’ll teach Grady everything I know.”
“He’s a city kid, Chance. What if he hates the ranch? What if he hates small-town life?”
“He’s a kid. He’ll go where you tell him to go.”
I sigh, and a yawn splits my face. “Go home, Chance.”
“Avery…”
“Please. Just go.”
“But I love you, kitten. I fucking love you. I never stopped.”
I love you too, Chance. I never stopped either.
I want to say the words so badly, but they hover on my lips, never quite materializing.
“I had to move on, Chance. If I hadn’t, every time I looked at our son would have been painful for me. He needed me. He needed me whole.”
“Are you saying you don’t love me? That it’s him or me and never us?”
I don’t reply.
“Those kisses. That lovemaking. You love me. I felt it.”
Sadness sweeps through me, and my heart smashes into pieces. Chance won’t want me when he finds out I can’t give him anymore children. It’s better to end it this way.
“You can get to know Grady if you want to,” I say.
“Damn right, I will, but Avery, I want you too.”
“Please, Chance.” I will my voice not to break into sobs. “Just go home. Once Grady is recovered, we’ll figure something out.”
The next day is Saturday, and Mom picks Grady and me up from the hospital. We get him settled in his room with his video games, but with the sound turned off, no headset, and only for a few minutes.
I sit down at the kitchen table with a magazine, and Mom brings me a cup of coffee.
“What are you doing, Avery?”
“Reading Cosmo. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I mean with Chance. Why’d you send him away?”
He did as I requested and left. I cried most of the night, wishing things could be different.
“You know why.”