Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“It’ll grow back.” I stroked my fingers along her cheek then over the skin below her ear, feeling a small burn scar there. She also had a couple of smaller burn marks on her shoulders. “And you are beautiful.”
She smiled. “What about Growl?”
“I told him about the sanctuary you had in Las Vegas and he suggested that you can work together with him and his family. So far he only takes in dogs, but if you want to expand on the shelter I’m sure he won’t mind helping you. The premises can be expanded with barns and there’s pasture land close by.”
Greta’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really. I know you wouldn’t be happy living in the city all the time, so I thought we could build a house close to this place and split our lives between that place and an apartment in Manhattan or a townhouse in Brooklyn.”
“What about the house you shared with—”
“It was never a place that felt like home and I spent less than twenty nights there in total. Dad already sold it to a business partner.”
Greta searched my eyes then she nodded. “Okay.”
Nothing from my past with Cressida would ever touch our lives again. Greta would carry the marks of the past on her body, I could do nothing about that, but that was the extent of the past’s grip on us. Cressida was dead and I would make sure the memory of her would die too.
“Lunch’s ready!” Maximus called from the doorway.
A pick-up pulled up in the driveway in that moment, and I tensed, my arm coming around Greta protectively until I recognized Primo behind the steering wheel. He jumped out and strolled over to us. “Hey long-lost cousin,” he said with a smile.
Greta grinned. She gave me a pleased smile as we followed Primo toward the front door. When we entered the big kitchen, Cara immediately turned away from the stove, an apron protecting her gym clothes from the meatball sauce.
She headed over to us but didn’t try to hug Greta as I’d told them about Greta’s need for space when she didn’t know people very well.. “Greta, so nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s so nice to meet you too. Thank you for cooking for us.”
“It’s the first time I tried vegan meatballs so please don’t be too critical.” Cara let out an embarrassed laugh.
“I’m sure it’ll taste wonderful. It smells so good.”
Growl rose slowly from the kitchen chair from where he’d been watching the scene unfold with his usual caution. His expression remained wary as he stopped in front of us.
“Hello uncle,” Greta said in a soft voice, her expression warm. “I’m glad I can finally meet you. Is it okay if I call you uncle or are you uncomfortable with that label?”
Surprise crossed Growl’s face. He glanced at Cara then at me before the hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “Nice to meet you too. And you can call me uncle if you want.”
She nodded eagerly.
“Let’s eat,” Cara said after she’d cleared her throat, obviously a tad emotional.
“See you’ll have blood family here too,” I whispered in Greta’s ear before we headed over to the kitchen bench to sit beside Primo and Maximus. I wanted Greta to find a home in New York.
After my first visit to New York as Amo’s fiancée my anxiety about living there had lessened considerably. Aria in particular was so warm and considerate, she treated me like one of her children. Not to mention that the meeting with my uncle and his family had been so much better than I’d ever thought possible.
Dad hadn’t mentioned the meeting though he knew I’d been at the Trevisan house. Since he had enough to stomach with my marriage to Amo and my move to New York, I didn’t push him. I held hope that one day he’d come around and allow the past to rest. It wasn’t easy, it was something I too had to work on every day.
Every time I looked in the mirror at the two fading scars on my lower belly, the memories of the attack came back and with them the realization of the consequences. Amo hadn’t seen this scar on my body yet, as we hadn’t been intimate since the attack three months ago. Too much had happened and my body needed the time to heal. It still didn’t feel like my body on some days.
I’d always been able to move however I wanted, to bend my body to my will. Now I had to be patient, take one small step after the other toward healing. I hadn’t tried to do ballet yet. All my focus had been on managing to walk without a limp. With only four weeks to go until the wedding I’d finally accomplished my goal. My gait still felt off to me, and if you looked very closely and knew me very well, you noticed that it wasn’t as fluid as it had been before the attack, but for the passing glance it wasn’t visible. I was still doing physiotherapy every day to make my leg and the rest of my body stronger to regain this last bit of mobility and strength back.