Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I melt against him as he pulls back to look at me. He reaches up before licking both thumbs. I freeze in awe as he rubs them along my cheeks, under the rims of my glasses. His eyes darken, his lips curving up as he breathes, “There you are.”
Tears spring to my eyes, but before I can utter a word or take off, I hear the name everyone here knows me by.
“Maria.” Ruby’s voice sends chills down my spine. I pull back quickly, praying that when I turn I don’t see what I know is waiting for me. I move away from Thatcher, and his eyes are wild, tears flooding them. “Darling, I think sweet thing has a bit of a fever.”
I’m unable to look to where I know Ruby is standing. Instead, I watch Thatcher direct his gaze over my shoulder. I watch as his brows pull in and he tries to process what he is seeing. I watch as the realization of what’s before him hits him square in the chest. He actually takes a step back, grasping the table for balance. I watch as his face turns white, his eyes widening, his lips parting, and I swear he isn’t breathing.
I watch as he sees his daughter for the first time.
CHAPTER SIX
There are many things in my life I have been absolutely sure of.
That I was meant to play professional hockey.
That I was born first to be my little sister’s hero.
That I was meant to be Audrina Hawkins’s best friend.
That I knew, even though I was drafted out of high school, I wanted to get my degree in sports medicine. Plus, hockey isn’t guaranteed, especially with how a simple injury could take you out in mere seconds.
That I would die for my sister and my parents. The same goes for Anya and William, who are more my aunt and uncle than just friends of the family. I knew I’d keep my promise to everyone, and I would find Audrina.
That I was absolutely wrong for what I said to her the morning after I left my bed.
That there is nothing in this world that can deter me from loving her.
That one day, she’d be mine.
And that the child who sits on the hip of the lady before me is mine.
I had felt such peace when I held Audrina close. When her scent had all but consumed me, but as quickly as she moved away was how quickly that peace was replaced by emotions I didn’t know I’d be feeling when I finally found her.
Panic.
Fear.
Confusion.
Shock.
Anger.
All of them, slamming into me all at once. I brace my hand on the table, my heart crashing into my ribs like I’ve skated twenty-nine minutes with no rest whatsoever. My body has gone cold, my stomach feels as if it’s falling out of my dick, and all I can do is stare at the toddler in the arms of an older lady who is still watching me as curiously as I do her. The older lady has her brows pinched, her eyes sharp as she looks between Audrina and me.
She knows she’s just seen the father of the child she holds.
The child she has gotten to love, when I had no clue she existed.
“Damn, that kid looks like your sister,” Owen blurts, but I already know that.
The child is Ingrid’s twin, wild, curly dark hair that tumbles below her chin, dark-brown eyes with her mother’s upturned nose. Looking like a goth Anna from Frozen. Unlike my sister’s porcelain skin, though, this little girl has a dusting of freckles along her cheeks and nose. Her eyes are wide, doe-like that mirror Audrina’s. Her lashes are long, thick, and even though she looks as if she is about to pass out from whatever is ailing her, she is the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen.
She’s a perfect mix of Audrina and me.
She’s mine.
Mine.
But what really kicks me in the groin and lets me know she is mine without even asking? She has a bright-pink headband that is holding her hearing aids in place on her ears. Just like my father and my sister. Tears burn my eyes, a ball of emotion lodges in my throat, and I’m unable to look away. I can only stare at the little person who has lived her whole life without me.
When the child signs Mommy, I have to hold back the sob that wants to break free. Instead, I grunt like she didn’t just sign for Audrina but rather kicked me square in the balls.
I tear my gaze from her to look at her mother, but Audrina is moving, just as fast as her hands. Oh, my poor girl. Do you not feel well?
I think I might pass out.
Seeing Audrina sign takes me back to all the classes we took when we found out Ingrid was hard of hearing. We learned that my father’s condition was hereditary and had been passed down to his daughter—and now, to mine. I can’t swallow past the lump in my throat as I watch Audrina tend to our child. She brushes her hair out of her face, feeling her cheeks then her head.