Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I nearly choked right then and there. Ever since Katherine’s anorexia scare, I’d been firmly in the anti-diet culture stance. No calorie counting, no scales, none of that bullshit. Just intuitive eating and living a healthy lifestyle. Just hearing her mention calories was triggering.
Dad and Gavin were talking about the baseball season. I hadn’t even known Gavin liked baseball, but he apparently could carry on an entire conversation about the Texas Rangers. We ate dessert as they chatted.
Unbeknownst to the rest of us, Gavin picked up the entire tab and wouldn’t hear a word from my parents about covering it. “My treat.”
I knew he had the money, but still. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said as we walked out of the restaurant.
“I absolutely did,” he whispered against my ear. “Not every day I get to take out my fiancée’s parents.”
“You’re a scoundrel.”
He chuckled. “You like it.”
I grinned up at him. The night was over. We’d both survived. Maybe we could go back to my place and have sex. That’d be the correct end to this night.
But my mom intercepted us. “Could we come over and talk some more?”
I blinked at her. “To … my place?”
“Yes, we want to discuss the wedding more with you.”
“Could we do it … tomorrow?” I asked, seeing my plans of seducing Gavin going out the window. “How long are you staying?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow evening. And, no … I think we need to discuss it tonight.” She glanced at Dad, and he nodded.
Gavin beamed. “Absolutely. Why don’t you all come to my place instead? Whitley and I live in the same building.”
“That would be lovely,” my mom said gratefully.
Gavin bustled us all into the car and swept us back to our building on the Upper East Side. I couldn’t even express my displeasure at this new arrangement. Dinner hadn’t been as bad as my anxiety had expected it to be, which was normally the case, but you never knew with my parents.
Despite Gavin being in the same building, I’d never actually been to his place. We always met at mine or in the lobby or at the coffee shop. I marveled at how much nicer his apartment was than mine. It shouldn’t have surprised me since, even though I was making stupid money now, I hadn’t grown up with it. Gavin’s place was probably twice the size of mine and had clearly been put together by an interior designer. It exuded bachelor and wealth. It was absolutely Gavin King in every way.
I tried to act like I’d been here many times before, sinking into the plush leather sofa and kicking my heels off. Gavin offered my parents a seat and then poured more wine for everyone. I would have killed for the whiskey on his wet bar, but I wasn’t going to ask for harder liquor before anyone else did.
Gavin sank into the seat next to me, dropping his arm across my shoulders, as if it were perfectly natural. My parents glanced at each other. Neither touched their wine. They were being weird.
“You wanted to talk more about the wedding?” I prompted.
“Right,” Mom said, glancing to Dad and then back. “There’s been a new development. We tried to call, but you didn’t answer. We knew we’d have to see you in person.”
“Development?” I asked, sitting up.
“Your dad is sick,” Mom blurted out.
I blinked. That … wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all. My gaze shifted to my dad, who looked uncomfortable.
“I have cancer, sweetheart.”
The words registered, but they didn’t seem real. My ears were ringing. I could barely hear the rest of the things they were saying. Cancer. Moved to spine, hips, and bladder. A few months to live.
Those words were incomprehensible. I had my problems with my parents. They’d never been the people I wanted them to be. But I didn’t want them to die either. I didn’t want my daddy to die.
“That’s why we’re here,” he said. “I just … I want to walk you down the aisle.”
I choked. “What?”
“I know that would move the timeline up for you two,” Dad said hoarsely. “I understand it would have to happen before the end of the summer. But … it’s my last wish.”
17
GAVIN
Whitley wasn’t breathing.
Her mouth was agape, eyes wide and tear-brimmed, and she just stopped. As if time had frozen.
I’d suggested we move to my apartment, thinking that we could have one glass of wine and then we could busy her parents out of the place. That it would be a lot easier to get rid of them if we were in my apartment. I hadn’t considered that they were going to drop a bomb in the middle of my living room.
“Whitley?” her mom said softly.
She said nothing. She stared at her father in abject horror.
“Whitley, honey,” her dad began.
“How … how long have you known?” she forced out.