Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Like I said. Intuition.” He winks at me. “I’d hoped that I could get to know you better, Savannah, that I could make a better plan before introducing you to my son, but unfortunately, my time is limited.”
All the guilt and doubt I felt leading up to this moment doubles with that word. “Limited?”
“Lung cancer,” he says. “When I was in my twenties, I thought I was invincible and smoked like a chimney. By the time I quit, it was too late. I’ve had two lobes of my left lung removed, and when a new spot appeared, I chose not to do anything about it. I wanted to spend my last days preparing everything for my family rather than vomiting my guts up from chemo.”
Does Oliver realize Charles is dying? “But if the chemotherapy could buy you a few more years . . .”
“We all die eventually, and I’ve made peace with my time coming very soon.” He coughs into his elbow. “Though judging by my last visit to my doctor, it may be sooner than any of us expected.” He pulls an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit coat and hands it to me. It’s unique. Sage in color, with Coast to Coast Equities and Investments watermarked on the back flap. “I hope you’ll find a way to connect with my son, one way or another, once I’m gone.”
I frown. “You’re not going to introduce me to him?”
He coughs again, lightly. “If I do that, I’ll ruin your chance before you get started.” Closing his eyes, he takes a long, deep breath. “I need to get back to my office to put a few more things in order, but please make yourself at home. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” I say weakly.
He nods and leaves with a soft click of the door, and I’m left staring at the blank envelope in my hands. I could leave now and Oliver would never know I was here. He’d never know I chickened out when I was so close to what he wanted. Or I could stay and finish what I’ve started. I’m not stealing from a dying man. I’m retrieving Oliver’s belongings and returning them to him.
I glance toward the hall where Charles disappeared and decide to explore the hall that branches off the other side of the living space. The first doorway is open to a tidy office furnished with a solid wood desk and matching bookshelves.
The ache in my gut intensifies, and that telltale sticky heat blossoms between my legs.
I rush to the bathroom across the hall and find exactly what I expected: I’ve started my period. I clean up, grateful that I had the foresight to put supplies in this big-ass purse, then wash my hands before texting Oliver.
Savvy: I got my period.
There’s a weird twinge of disappointment in my heart. It’s ridiculous, and I know I should be glad, but I didn’t hate the idea of having Oliver’s baby. Worried that my disappointment will be obvious from that text and scare him away, I quickly send another.
Savvy: What a relief!
I stare at my phone for a minute, wishing he’d text back right away. When he doesn’t, I resume my exploration of Charles’s apartment.
Next to the bathroom and across from the office is a bedroom. The king-size bed is dressed with a fluffy white duvet, and the windows are draped in matching sheers. The second my gaze lands on the decorative chest on the dresser, my stomach drops to the floor.
I pull my phone from my purse and check for messages from Oliver. There’s a notification for my email, letting me know my econ professor sent a link to some videos she’d like us to watch before class. But nothing from Oliver. I don’t know what I want him to say.
Thanks for letting me know.
Cool.
Great news.
No, that’s not what I’m looking for, and it’s not fair. I want You would’ve looked beautiful carrying my baby. Or Someday, when we’re both ready, we’ll do it right.
He was right. I’ve been reading too many romance novels. This is real life, where there’s nothing romantic about getting your twenty-one-year-old girlfriend pregnant.
I swallow hard before opening the chest. Inside there are maybe half a dozen large manilla envelopes so full they’re bursting at the seams.
With a knot in my gut, I open my purse and fill it with the contents of the chest.
Imade it back in town just in time for my Friday night shift at The Naked Bean. I didn’t even have time to run home and drop off this giant purse and all its secret-treasure envelopes for Oliver, so it’s weighing me down as I haul ass out of there after close.
I look up to the dark, moonless sky and groan at the sound of icy rain hitting the trees.