Page 112 of Tempt
“Because we’re not together anymore. I don’t even know if we ever were.”
“Please, Millie.” He took the box from me, opened it up, and lifted the necklace from the velvet. Tucking the box back into his coat, he undid the clasp. “Let me give this to you and see you wearing it.”
“But why?” I’d started to cry.
“You know why,” he whispered. Stepping around me, he lowered his hands in front of my chest. “Lift up your hair for me.”
I did what he asked, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and let him fasten the clasp behind my neck. Then he pressed his lips to my bare shoulder. I closed my eyes, wishing this moment could have a different ending.
I heard a noise by the door and turned to see a shadow moving away.
Dropping my hands, I let my hair fall and turned to face him. “You have to go,” I begged. “Now, please. Before someone sees us.”
His eyes held mine, then dropped to my chest, where the diamond pendant glimmered. “Keep it,” he said, his voice thick. “It was meant for you.”
Then he walked out, leaving me alone to cry. I turned to the window and saw my reflection, the necklace and my tears shining like stars in the dark.
CHAPTER25
ZACH
Imanaged to last another twenty minutes or so, then I faked a headache and told Mason and Lori I’d see them tomorrow.
“Oh no.” Lori looked distressed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s just been a long day.”
We’d exchanged gifts at their house before coming over to the inn, and Mason had gotten choked up over the items that had belonged to my grandfather. Then he’d opened up the bottle of whiskey I’d bought him, and we enjoyed a drink while he and Lori listened with rapt attention to all the old family stories I told. Mason said he wanted to do more research on my grandfather’s military record and even create a family tree that went back generations—he’d always been envious of kids at school with huge family trees when they’d been assigned projects about family history.
Lori adored the sweater, pulling it on immediately and rubbing the soft sleeve against her cheek, and I sent a quick text to Catherine to thank her for the suggestion.
They’d gifted me with a hooded sweatshirt from the high school where Mason taught, a bottle of wine from Cloverleigh Farms, and finally, a card with a black and white picture inside. I held it up—it was an ultrasound image.
“It’s a girl,” Mason said, his voice full of pride.
My throat felt scratchy when I tried to speak, and I cleared it as I continued to stare at the figure on the paper. Her profile was clearly visible, and a tiny little fist was in front of her face. “Wow.”
“We don’t know what her name is yet, but we thought you might like to have a copy of her first photo,” Lori said softly.
“Thanks.” All kinds of feelings were swirling around inside me, including fear and the urge to run out the front door, but there was no denying the surge of protectiveness in my chest. This tiny little being was my blood. She would carry within her some of me, for better or worse. Some of my parents and grandparents before me. Some of Poppy.
My throat grew even tighter, my chest more full. I wasn’t used to these kinds of emotions and wondered how the hell any father got through a day with this kind of maelstrom going on inside them.
And yet, I wondered if I’d made a mistake throwing away my chance to be one.
* * *
I let myself into my hotel room and fell back on the bed, feeling like I’d fucked up Christmas Eve for everyone. I’d made Millie cry, I’d disappointed Lori, Mason had been silent when I’d shook his hand before walking out. As for myself, I’d never been so fucking lonesome.
And tomorrow would be more of the same. I’d been invited to Lori’s parents’ house for Christmas dinner, but that wasn’t until five o’clock, so most of the day would be spent sitting in this hotel room pondering all the terrible choices I’d made over the course of my life.
And what about that life? Was it half over? How much longer did I have? What had I done with it that would matter? What would I do with the time I had left? What did Iwant?
I was still lying there, on the verge of an existential crisis, when my phone vibrated. Thinking maybe it was Millie, I sat up fast and pulled it from my pocket.
It was Jackson.
“Hello?”
