Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
As funny, and scary, as that was, all he could manage was forcing a tight smile back.
Because, fuck, he didn’t want to lay more shit on her.
He knew she was still fighting the hangover when she didn’t notice the state of his smile.
“Please tell me that’s a smoothie á la Sasha,” she begged.
“It is.” He handed it to her.
She took it and then sucked back at least half of it.
“Holy shit, Gen,” he muttered when she removed the glass from her mouth.
“Orange, ginger, banana, yogurt, vanilla and water,” she declared.
“Hydration and electrolytes,” he surmised.
She smiled. “Sasha was going to study to be a dietician before she took off to savor the world.”
“We have ginger in this house?”
She held up the glass and looked at it. “It tasted a little gritty, so she probably used powder.”
“Your script came.”
“Cool.” She smiled, looking at his hand.
“And Samantha got my number. She phoned to explain and apologize. You can also call off the dogs that you unleashed to get to the bottom of how she found out about Tom when Hale told you he didn’t share. She guessed about the reason for your divorce.”
The smile died. “Guessed?”
“Yup.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
Anger was suffusing her features.
Deserved, but they had more shit to get through before they could put it the fuck behind them and have the goodness of their day.
And then the rest of their lives.
“She also wants the shot to apologize to you. Your call. But I’ll warn you of something that probably will come as no surprise. She’s twisted. She loved Corey truly and he broke her heart and she’s the kind of woman who never allowed herself to heal from that. So my advice, let her go spit.”
“It is highly likely I shall take that advice, Bowie, unless Hale requests I go the other way.”
He nodded.
And then he got into the worst of it.
“And I finished reading Corey’s letter.”
She paled.
Goddamn it.
“You should read it,” he said quietly.
She stared at him a second before she downed the next quarter of smoothie.
She then raised her hand, and he gave her the envelope, on top of which was the letter.
She took both and sat, perched at the edge of one of the two big leather chairs in front of his window, and reached to set the glass on a table.
She tossed the script to the ottoman.
And she bent her head to read the letter.
When she was done, her hand fluttered down, and she twisted on her perch to stare at his view.
She didn’t see anything; he knew that before she spoke.
“You know, Corey had a dad like yours.”
He crossed his arms on his chest. “I know.”
“Of course you know, that was what drew you two together.”
She turned her head and her gaze came up to his. “But you were you, and he was a runt.”
“Yes,” Duncan forced out.
“His father was tall and lean and strong, like Hale. Like you.”
Duncan said nothing.
“And Corey was not that.”
Duncan remained silent.
“And even if he couldn’t escape it with every time he looked in a mirror, or someone said something mean to him, his father never let him forget it.”
“Nope,” Duncan confirmed.
And yeah, back then?
Duncan had hated Corey’s dad maybe more than Corey hated him.
“I see now, how jealous he always was of you,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“And I see also, how much he worshipped you.”
This was harder.
But he couldn’t disagree.
“Yes.”
“I forgive him,” she whispered like she was confessing an ugly secret.
“Of course you do,” he whispered back. “You’re you. But, baby, I don’t. He was my brother. Honest to Christ, it would be like Gage doin’ that to Sully.”
“I understand, Bowie.”
They remained silent, holding each other’s eyes.
Gen broke it.
“He killed himself because—”
“He killed himself because he made bad choices in his life that he couldn’t live with. It had nothin’ to do with us. And he made that plain in that letter, Genny.”
Her voice was small on her, “I know.”
“I need to hold you,” he told her.
“Then why aren’t you doing that?” she asked.
Good question.
In half a second, she was in his arms.
She didn’t burst into tears or even weep.
She just lay her cheek on his chest, circled him with her arms and held him tight.
“I feel guilt, because, in truth, now that the shock of it all has worn off, I don’t miss him. He was a lot of work,” she confessed.
“Try to get that out of your head. It might be hard, but that also isn’t on you.”
She sighed.
Then she said, “Hale hasn’t shared. He got everything, but I don’t know if there was some letter, some wish—”
“If there was, would he tell you?”
“Yes, or Tom.”
“Then brace, baby, because one thing we know, Corey was thorough. And systematic.”
Her head tipped back, and she breathed, “Oh my God.”
He nodded. “One down. One to go.”
“He wanted you around to—”
“Yup.”
“Oh my God.”
They stared at each other again.