Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I’m going to be sick. It’s like the universe is throwing everything but the kitchen sink at my head, doing the most to make sure my spirit crumbles.
“Do you want to be the one to say it?” he murmurs with a gentle smile.
She nods before casting a furtive, mischievous look around the table.
“We’re having a baby.”
Mom was merely happy before. Now, she lets out a shriek that I’m pretty sure will have every dog in a five-mile radius lifting its head, ears perked.
Dad, meanwhile, is half out of his chair, wearing a shocked expression. “You’re sure? Everything’s—”
“Everything is perfect,” Q confirms.
Though the doctor assured Aspen she’d be able to have children after her brutal attack and subsequent miscarriage, there was always an unspoken worry about whether things would really turn out okay. At least, I always worried.
But now, here they are. Radiantly overjoyed, surrounded by love and congratulations, and a very eager pair of soon-to-be grandparents just dying to spoil the baby rotten. I guess my back-to-school shopping will take a back seat to searching for nursery furniture.
I’m okay with that. Just as I’m thrilled for them—really, I am. They deserve this, something they’ve both wanted so much. Any child of theirs is lucky to be born into so much love.
But dammit. Why can’t it be me?
“Congratulations,” I murmur, and I’ll pretend the tears in my eyes are the result of happiness as I give my sister-in-law a hug just as fierce and loving as the one she gave me. “You’ll make an amazing mom.”
I’m merely saying what I know people normally say in situations like this. Like a robot. I don’t feel any of it.
But I’m not numb anymore. Oh no. I wish I was.
Because now? There’s no sadness.
There’s no room for it now that anger has taken its place, stirring to life inside me, threatening to show itself in my voice or on my face. I can’t wait until dinner is over, so I have an excuse to hide in my room where no one will see.
This will never be me. I’ll never be the one to announce I’m having a very wanted, very loved baby. I won’t gaze adoringly into the eyes of a man who cherishes me just as much.
My heart thumps painfully, loudly, the sound echoing in my head. It hurts. It all hurts so badly. How could he do this to me?
How could I do it to myself?
Wherever Ren is—alive or dead—I only hope he’s suffering the way I am now. Faking a smile when all he wants is to cry. Faced with a living, breathing reminder of what he once imagined might be possible.
Knowing it can never be. Not ever.
11
SCARLET
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Why can’t I rewind the clock?” Mom strokes my hair, my head on her shoulder, as she gives me one of her patented bear hugs before loosening her grip a little so I can breathe. I’m amazed she hasn’t cracked any of my ribs yet. “It hardly seems like we’ve had any time together at all.”
I’m not a cruel person, so I won’t remind her that we’ve been together pretty much nonstop since I got home. When we weren’t shopping for my new school clothes, we hunted every furniture store and every baby section in every shop within driving distance. Aspen is barely six months pregnant now, and already, I can’t imagine them needing a single thing.
I can’t pretend I’m not grateful for the distraction, either. After a while, I was more obsessed than Mom, finally figuring out it was better to turn my attention and energy toward something positive. Anything, so long as there is a reason not to dwell on my misery. My loneliness.
I never understood before, but this past summer has been more than enough to drive the point home: it’s possible to feel insanely lonely even when surrounded by people. Loving people, too.
“You know I’m a short flight away,” I remind her, kissing her cheek. “And if anybody has the okay to come and go at will, it’s you and Dad.”
“Don’t you worry, though,” she assures me with a knowing look. “I’ll make sure to remind your father that you’re a grown woman entitled to a life of her own.”
I can’t help but snort a laugh, and soon she’s doing the same. “Yeah, we’ll see how that goes.”
“Let’s be fair. He gave you space at MIT.” Sure, a space in which bodyguards prowled. I’m not trying to get into an argument, so I shrug it off.
“I’ll miss you.” She kisses my forehead, then steps back, fanning her hands in front of her face. “All right, no more of this. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, and you need your rest.” Yes, I’m flying out first thing in the morning. Everything’s packed and ready to go. All that’s left for me to do is try to sleep.