Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“Six months…maybe.”
I dropped my head into my hands. It felt like the room had started to spin. “I’m sorry.”
She took the seat across from me again. “So am I, Gray. So am I. I know it’s not enough. And I’m not expecting your forgiveness. Sometimes it takes staring death in the face to make you look back at your life and realize you didn’t live it in a way you’re proud of. I’m not proud of much that I’ve done at all. I lived for money and power, disregarding anyone who fell in my wake. But I am proud of Ella. She’s innocent and sweet, and full of love and life.” She paused. “I guess I’m lucky she took after her father and not me.”
I looked up at her. “Are you sure she’s mine? How do I know these tests aren’t manipulated?”
Max smiled sadly and reached into her blazer pocket. She slid a photo across the table.
Lifting it knocked the breath right out of me. The little girl was all me. Big green eyes, dark lashes, creviced dimples punctuating her crooked smile. A fucked-up thought popped into my head. She looks just like my father.
I swallowed and tasted salt in my throat. “I need some time to digest all this.”
“Of course.”
I stared down at the photo of the beautiful little girl. “Can I keep this?”
“Of course.”
Standing, I felt numb. I took the folder and nodded at Max before turning to walk out. With my hand on the glass door, I asked, “Anything else you want to confess before I go?” It was my idea of a sad joke.
But Max looked down.
I shook my head. “Fuck—what now?”
“Aiden stole all the money from me that we stole from you. I really would like your friend to try to get it back. It’s Ella’s inheritance.”
Unbelievable. I opened the door and spoke without looking back. “You’re a real piece of work.”
Chapter 26
* * *
Gray
Rattling the ice cubes in my empty glass, I stared at the mess of my life strewn all over the living room couch and floor. The folder Max had given me contained everything—her medical papers, her will appointing me as Ella’s sole guardian, a seven-page letter that detailed all of the whys, hows, and whens of her illness and pregnancy, and my daughter’s birth certificate and medical files. She’d even admitted in writing to the details of the con job she’d pulled on me. It was a shitload of information. But it was the photo of my daughter sitting on top of the papers that I kept coming back to.
My daughter.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to even thinking the words, much less saying them aloud. Ella Kent Cartwright had been born on Valentine’s Day almost three years ago. Max had listed the father’s name as unknown on the birth certificate but gave Ella my mother’s maiden name as her middle name—Kent.
I picked up Ella’s picture to study it for the thousandth time. I had no idea how to take care of a child—a daughter, no less. But my heart swelled every time I looked at her adorable little face. I felt like my life had once again been sucked into a tornado, and where it would spit me out was anyone’s guess. But I knew one thing for sure: I needed to meet Ella as soon as possible.
Stumbling to the kitchen, I refilled my glass, cursing at the empty bottle while I poured the last drops.
I needed to talk to Layla. She’d texted me an hour ago, and I still couldn’t bring myself to respond. What the fuck did I write back?
Yes, I have a daughter.
And…pretty soon I’ll be a single dad to a nearly three-year-old I’ve never met.
What I wanted to do was lie—tell her Max hadn’t shown up for our meeting and just spend one more night in denial. But…no lies. That’s how I’d lost her in the first place.
The discussion certainly wasn’t one that should unfold via text. It was almost eight so I figured Layla would be home by now.
Gray: Is it okay if I stop by so we can talk?
Her response came quick.
Layla: No.
My heart started to pound, and I fumbled my phone, dropping it on the floor when I started to text back. I heard another phone ringing in the background while I swiped my cell from the floor. I was so laser focused on finding the reason she didn’t want me to stop by that I didn’t realize it was my own home phone.
Gray: Are you still at work? I could come pick you up and we could ride to your place together.
Layla: I’m not at work anymore.
Shit. She just didn’t want me to come over.
Gray: Too tired?
My phone rang again. This time I heard it loud and clear, but chose to ignore it. Whoever was calling wasn’t as important as Layla.