Page 40 of The Surrogate


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“I didn’t think so,” I muttered.

“Do what you want,” he huffed.

“You don’t sound like you mean that. Why does the idea of me having a life outside this situation anger you?”

“It doesn’t,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Now you’re shutting down. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”

“And I’veseriouslytold you to do what you want. You’re right. It shouldn’t be any of my concern.” He expelled a long, frustrated breath. “You seem to have the hang of the database. You can work from home tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Crossing my arms, I shook my head. “That’s so passive aggressive.”

“I’ll have you know, I’d decided that before this ridiculous conversation. We’re supposed to be getting heaps of rain tomorrow. It’s not worth you having to travel ninety minutes in a tsunami when you can easily work from the inn.”

“Oh,” I muttered, feeling a bit dumb if that was the truth.

When we passed the onramp toward Westfordshire, rather than getting on the motorway, I asked, “Where are you going?”

“I have a spare work laptop at my flat. It already has the database installed. I’ll set it up for you when we get to Lavinia’s.”

I picked some lint off my skirt. “Okay.”

I’d been quite curious about his place. And while this wasn’t a leisurely stop, I hadn’t thought he’d have me over in any capacity. But what if he didn’t plan to invite me in?

Sig pulled into his parking spot, and I looked up at the brick building. “Can I go in with you? I’d love to see your apartment.”

He turned off the car. “If you insist…”

“You’re so grumpy,” I said as I followed him out of the car.

“Should I be excited about showing you my place? I haven’t exactly prepared it for visitors.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

Sig’s one-level apartment on the third floor was spacious and modern, just as I might’ve imagined it. Large windows overlooked the street below, and it seemed immaculate.

He tossed his keys on a table by the door. “Make yourself at home. Laptop’s in my bedroom. Just going to grab it.”

After Sig left me alone, I wandered around the living room. I heard his phone ring and then the muffled sound of him talking to someone in the next room.

Since he was occupied, I wandered over to a corner of the living space. An amateurish painting of trees and mountains hung on the wall, and it had Leo’s signature at the bottom.Must be an inside joke?I mean, it wasn’t horrible, but not exactly the kind of art you’d display in your living room.

I then noticed a single framed photo on an otherwise empty bookshelf. My heart clenched. It was an image of Sig and Britney in front of Big Ben. It must’ve been taken shortly after they met because she didn’t look sick. I knew they’d only had about six months together. According to her parents, the treatment she received had made her quite frail toward the end. She didn’t look that way here at all, though. She was absolutely beautiful. I’d seen a couple of photos of her before, but never of her with Sig. Never ofthem.

And Sig? His beautiful dark blue eyes sparkled in the picture, filled with life, with hope. Withlove. He wore an expression I’d never seen. It broke my heart to discover his genuine smile, to know that at one point he’d been capable of such joy. I envied the love and connection they had. And though I couldn’t see it here, there had to have been fear lurking within them as well. They’d known what they were faced with from day one. And yet…that didn’t stop their love.

I focused on Sig’s smile in the photo and wished I could experience that side of him, even if that wasn’t meant to bemyexperience.

“What are you doing?” Sig’s voice cut through me.

I shuddered. “This is a really nice photo.”

He softened as he approached and took the frame from me. “That was taken the day before she started treatment. We wanted one day of normality. I took her around London, gave her the full tourist experience,” he murmured. “It was a good day.”

“It’s beautiful, Sig.” I watched as he continued to look down at the photo. “You were a good man to have stuck by her through all of that.”

He finally took his eyes off the photo to turn to me. “It was my privilege. I didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t out of obligation that I stuck around.”

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