Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“And we’d pay for everything,” Tony says, drawing my attention back to him. “You wouldn’t need to worry about any of the financial burdens associated with the transplant.”
And we’d pay for everything.
The ease of which he adds the comment echoes hollowly throughout my head. As much as I try to steel myself against the pain, it still hits me like a punch to the gut.
The knowledge that he’s willing to fork over any amount of money when it comes to his daughter with Charlotte hurts. And yet, he couldn’t spare a dime when I needed it to survive.
I shift and clench my hands tightly together. “I still need time to think it over.”
Her face falls before she rises to her feet. “Maybe it would help to meet Kylie.”
No. That’ll only make everything more difficult.
Before I can shake my head and nix the idea, she rushes from the living room. Once in the cavernous foyer, she calls out both children’s names.
Avoiding eye contact with Tony, my gaze darts around the room before landing on the large family portrait that hangs prominently above the fireplace mantle. The four of them are decked out in formal attire with a gorgeous outdoor landscape in the background. Charlotte and Kylie are wearing matching black velvet dresses while Tony and his son have on charcoal sweaters and fitted black trousers.
Another pang of sadness fills my heart as I think about the framed photographs of Mom and me scattered throughout our tiny ranch. Nothing we have comes close to the grandness of this picture.
It’s beautiful.
And, more than likely, expensive.
I’m knocked from those thoughts when Charlotte returns with two teenagers in tow. Her smile is forced as she introduces Kylie and then Antonio. Much like their mother, my faux smile is pasted firmly in place. At any moment, it’ll shatter.
Or maybe I’ll shatter.
This is turning out to be even more emotionally draining than I anticipated.
At first glance, Kylie looks to be the perfect mix of her parents. She’s blonde like her mother but has dark eyes that are similar to Tony’s.
And mine.
Charlotte lays her palms on Kylie’s shoulders as she presses close to the girl.
Antonio, on the other hand, is all his father. Same dark hair, eyes, and slim build.
Even though I knew Tony had two kids, it’s a little surreal to sit in the same room as them. When they were born, I wondered if we might have a relationship. As the years went by, those hopes were snuffed out.
The teenage boy gives me a chin lift in greeting before his uninterested gaze flickers to Asher, where it stays locked. It only takes a few seconds for his eyes to widen to the size of saucers.
“Wait…are you Asher Stevens?”
The blonde football player smiles. “Guilty.”
Antonio’s face lights up as his voice fills with excitement. “Dude! I can’t believe you’re actually standing here in my house! No one at school is gonna believe this.” He rambles off a couple of stats, talking a mile a minute.
His parents and sister turn their attention to the guy sitting beside me with new interest.
“Would you mind signing one of my footballs?” he finally asks, running out of steam.
“Sure, no problem.”
He punches his fist in the air before racing from the room and pounding up the staircase to the second floor.
Tony’s brows draw together as he tilts his head. “I assume you play football?”
Asher shifts on the sofa, one arm sliding along the back of the cushion until his fingers can strum my shoulder.
“Yes, for the Western Wildcats.”
The older man’s expression turns thoughtful. “You must be pretty good if Antonio is this excited.”
Asher shrugs modestly.
The boy returns with a football and program from one of this season’s earlier games for him to sign. And Asher, bless him, does it graciously. Antonio fires off question after question before telling him all about the position he plays on his middle school team. The atmosphere lightens as they discuss Western’s season and then Asher’s prospects for the draft.
Even though I try not to stare, my attention is continually drawn to Kylie. Charlotte fusses over her, leading the waifish teen to a chair before dashing off to get her something to eat and drink. When our gazes collide, I can’t help but notice the fatigue that fills her dark eyes.
It would be impossible to ignore the marked difference between her behavior and that of her younger brother, who is brimming with exuberance and life. Throughout the rest of the evening, Kylie doesn’t contribute much to the conversation. A few one-worded responses here and there. There’s a solemness to her features that makes her seem older than her sixteen years.
Even though I do everything possible to steel my heart, I can almost feel it cracking wide open and slowly bleeding out.
20
ASHER
As soon as I slide onto the leather seat next to Lola and start up the engine, she bursts into tears. Instead of pulling onto the road and getting the hell out of here, the way every instinct is prodding me to do, I tug her into my arms and hold her tight. She buries her face against the front of my shirt as her shoulders shake. Minutes tick by as she releases all her pent-up emotion.