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He sips his water again. “I’m going to apologize for my son. I do hope his decision to let you go was a lapse in judgment and he comes to his senses, because I’ve only ever seen him look at a woman remotely close to the way he looks at you once before. And it’s so much stronger with you. He does love you, so even if you don’t work out because he’s too lost, I hope you find some peace in knowing that.”
I give him a small smile. “Thanks.”
He stacks the papers and puts them in the center of the table. “We’ll need to have these signed in front of lawyers, but I’ll leave a copy for you to look over. Thank you for letting me barge in.” He stands and looks around my small house. “You two really made quite a home here for you three.”
I don’t say anything for fear that the rawness crawling up my throat will result in me crying on his shoulder.
He’s about to leave when I stop him. “Please, Mr. Siska, can you tell me what happened?”
“Damon will kill me, but he should’ve told you himself. Google Greta Mackey. Connecticut. Accident. It should come up.”
My stomach drops. “Thank you.”
“The reason I want you to know is because us Siska men are shitty at displaying our emotions and turning them into words. I’m really happy you’re my granddaughter’s mother, Adeline. She’s going to have one helluva role model growing up.”
Now I am crying. I wipe the tears. “Thank you, and have a safe trip back.”
The minute Mr. Siska’s car pulls away from the curb, I grab my laptop from my bag and type in all the information he told me to. The old article pops up right away.
Young Connecticut Woman Dies on Vermont Slopes.
I continue reading. Greta was skiing and fell, hitting her head in a way they refer to as blunt force trauma. She was with her boyfriend, although they don’t say his name because he was a minor. They transported her by airlift to a hospital, but there was a lot of internal bleeding, and she passed away hours later. Her parents weren’t able to make it to her bedside fast enough, which left the boyfriend there on his own. The family referred to him as her one true love and said they were happy he could be there when she passed on.
More tears stream down my face.
Oh, Damon, why did you never tell me?
Because I wasn’t important enough, that’s why.
Chapter28
Damon
I’ve been in a bad mood since I woke up. Miles and Cooper’s words keep echoing through my head and wearing me down, pushing me closer to admitting my feelings for Adeline. But no good can come from that.
Clover is napping, and Adeline’s mom will be here any minute to pick her up. I hate having to send her away.
Miles’s words float through my head about how I need to figure this shit out. He has a point, I suppose.
I grab the box in the corner of my closet and open it on my bed. A picture of Greta and me is the first thing I see. Then her homecoming corsage, movie tickets, all the stuff she kept in a memory box her parents gave me after she died. She even had all the small notes I’d dropped into her locker.
The pain surfaces immediately, the memories of her lying on the snow. I’d begged her to go for another run down the hill when she’d wanted to go in. The life flight, the hospital, the look in the doctor’s eyes when he told me to call her parents. Her hand going limp in mine, and the nurse coming in to shut off the machine.
I rub my hand over my heart, trying to soothe the pain.
My buzzer goes off, and I fumble to put the lid on the box and shove it under my bed for now. I let Adeline’s mom in, then open my apartment door.
Picking up Clover, I cradle her before putting her in the carrier, buckling her up. “I’m gonna miss you so much, sweet girl.”
“Hello?” Marge peeks her head in.
“Hey, I’m just getting her in the car seat. If you’re lucky, she’ll sleep on the way back.” I try to keep my voice light.
She smiles. “Actually, while she’s sleeping, I was hoping I could talk to you.”
Fuck, this will be fun, hearing a bunch of “I told you so’s” and “You’re not good enough for my daughter.” Tell me something I don’t know.
“Sure, do you want to sit?” I motion to the living area.
