Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Still congested from crying earlier, I sniffled then laughed. “Ludicrous.”
“Ah, yes. Still the dumbest thing my cousin has ever done.”
It was hard to look at Sig the same way, but I tried not to let on that Leo had told me anything. I was totally spent after the day’s emotional ride.
As Leo drove me home, we stole glances at each other. Every time I got the urge to reach over and touch him, I forced my eyes to the wedding ring on his hand. It never got easier looking at it. This day had done nothing to bring me closure. Quite honestly, it took everything in me not to burst into tears.
I exited the car before Leo could even say goodbye. I couldn’t look at him anymore.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he called.
“Sure,” I said, not wanting to argue about it, which would only prolong him staying. He wanted me here a week, but I didn’t know how much more I could take.
After he drove away, relief washed over me. If I lost control now, at least he wouldn’t witness it.
Lavinia had left a note on the kitchen table, letting Sig and me know a neighbor down the road had invited her to dinner.
Sig found me in the kitchen and grabbed Lavinia’s bottle of Fireball along with two glasses. He pulled up a seat and pointed to the one across from me.
“Sit, Ginger. We’re going to drink.” He looked down at the bottle. “I’m feeling a bit too lazy to make margaritas, so this will have to do for now.”
I was in no place to argue against a stiff drink tonight.
After he poured one, he slid the glass toward me.
I took a long gulp and appreciated the burn.
Though I hadn’t said anything about my feelings to Sig, he seemed to read my mind.
“I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing either, Felicity. I think he’s hoping to figure this mess out somehow, but there’s no quick solution when you’re married to one person and in love with another.”
My eyes shot up.
“I’m not saying he doesn’t love Darcie, but he most certainly is still in love with you.”
“He hasn’t said that. How would you know?” I asked.
“Because I can see it. I know what it looks like now.”
I paused as I debated whether to tell him I knew about his tremendous loss. Ultimately, I couldn’t hide it. “I’m so sorry about Britney.”
Rather than say anything, Sig opened the bottle and poured himself another drink. He downed it and slammed his glass against the table. “Thank you,” he finally said. “He told you the saddest story to ever exist, eh?”
Shit. I could feel tears forming again in my eyes. I did not want him to see me cry. But tears had a mind of their own. I sniffled. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve cried more today than I have in my entire life.”
“It’s all right, Ginger.” Sig poured me another drink, sliding it toward me. “So he told you all the crazy details of how I met her, too?”
I smiled through the remaining tears. “Yeah.”
“I bet he forgot to mention how beautiful she was.” Sig reached into his pocket for his phone. He scrolled through and turned the screen toward me.
Wiping my eyes, I smiled at the sight of them together. Britney was indeed tiny, especially next to Sig who was well over six feet tall. She had short, blond hair that might have been a wig and the most beautiful, delicate features. Her smile lit up her whole face. She reminded me of Tinkerbell. I doubted Sig had ever run across anyone more beautiful. The fact that she was obviously very sick didn’t take away from that.
He looked down at the image and smiled. “That’s Britney Benedictus.”
“She’s beautiful. And I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.”
“She was the love of my life. It doesn’t matter that I only had her for a matter of months. No one will ever replace her.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “She’ll live in here forever.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t understand why you were so different. It makes sense now.”
“Makes sense now why I’m a walking disaster...” He chuckled. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s all right. It’s the truth.” He exhaled and put his phone down. “I’ll bounce back eventually. Because that’s what she would have wanted. So I’ll force it. For her.”
“You will,” I assured him.
It surprised me that rather than sweeping the subject under the rug, he continued talking.
“The treatment she was getting—because it was experimental, it wasn’t covered by insurance. Her parents ran out of money. The treatment wasn’t really helping, but the idea that something might give us hope kept her spirits up. So when it came time to decide whether we had to stop due to finances or find a way to continue paying for it, Leo came to the rescue. He paid for the rest of her treatment and her parents’ accommodations. I’ll never forget that. And I’ll never be able to repay him.”