Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
It’s the best fucking life.
Only … it’s not real.
I crack open my eyes when the sun rises and slowly stand, laying Benjamin in his crib.
“What are you doing in here?”
Benjamin jumps and lets out a shrill cry.
I turn toward Jolene in her workout attire, covered in sweat. She’s had a full eight hours of sleep, a morning workout, and she’s sipping a green juice.
Typical mom life. Pfft …
“Good job, Jolene. Better wake Leah. I have to go to work.”
“That’s my question. Why is Leah not with him?” She follows me to the bedroom, totally ignoring our crying baby.
“I gave her a break.”
“We pay her to be with him twenty-four hours a day if necessary. She’s very well paid. She doesn’t need you giving her a break. She naps when he naps.”
Before she can follow me into the bedroom, I turn at the threshold. Opening my mouth to say something like, “You’re a unique piece of work.” I, instead, hold my tongue and close my mouth just as quickly. I’m too tired of exchanging barbs. She’s not worth my time. If the day comes that she shows a glimpse of humanity, I’ll reciprocate and make time for her in some capacity. This is all a big “if.”
After throwing on clothes and brushing my teeth, I pass Fletcher in the kitchen while grabbing the coffee Micah has waiting for me. “I’m on my way to the bank to sign the papers,” I say to Fletcher.
“Good. Then you need to visit Annie.”
I freeze, slowly turning back toward him while his words punch the air from my chest.
He doesn’t look up from his mug of coffee. “She’s not doing well. It’s an infection. She’s been transferred to the hospital.” His emotionless gaze meets mine. “I think it’s time, Milo.”
Swallowing hard behind gritted teeth, I head to my truck.
“She’s at Southwestern, Milo.”
After the bank, I sit in the hospital parking lot for a coward’s hour. It’s reminiscent of visiting Archer. Only this time Indie won’t be calling me to check in. She won’t make me smile. Her voice won’t settle into my chest like a shield from the bad things in life.
It’s just me and my past. It’s just me and … my future.
Annie is the reason I work for Fletcher.
Annie is the reason I let Indie go.
Annie is the reason I’m married to Jolene.
Annie is the reason I have a son.
Everything about my life feels like it begins and ends with Annie.
Climbing out of my truck, I shove my phone into my pocket; heavy, numb feet carry my weary body toward the entrance. The smiley lady at the information desk sends me to the ICU.
“But only family is allowed,” she says as I head toward the elevators.
“I’m family,” I murmur.
It’s been eighteen years since I’ve seen my twin sister. When I step into her room, it takes a minute to let reality come to life in a very tangible way. She’s hooked to so many lines and tubes. And she looks nothing like the girl I remember. The giggly blonde with bouncing curls is a ghost at best.
Annie’s hair is short and matted. Pale, lifeless skin. Wrinkled and dry.
I feather my fingers over her hand. It’s cold. The machine keeping track of her pulse and heart rate says she’s alive. I’m not so sure I believe it.
“Hey, Annie. It’s Milo. I … I wanted to see you before now, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, please know that I’ll never stop doing whatever it takes to give you the care you need. The care you deserve.” I laugh a little to keep from falling to my fucking knees and bawling. “You should outlive both of us. Archer already left us, and I’m a moving target most days, so …” I blow out a long breath. “You stand a chance of surviving everyone else if you fight this nasty bug.”
Her eyes crawl open, and I suck in a slow breath. They’re my eyes. They’re the eyes of the giggly girl with bouncing curls. I see her. She’s still in there.
Her fingers twitch before her hand lifts toward mine. I squeeze it while simultaneously wringing tears from my stinging eyes. I stifle a sob and chuckle again. “Oh god … there you are, beautiful Annie.” My other hand wipes my face. “Hey … do you hear me?”
She has a tube up her nose, but she gives me a slight nod and parts her cracked lips. Nothing comes out.
There’s so much I don’t know about her. I know she has brain damage. I know she’s blind in one eye. I know she can’t walk unassisted. And I know it’s my fault.
“Don’t try to talk. We’ll talk later.” I sniffle again, wiping my nose with my sleeve. “I’m just … so happy to see you.”