Page 91 of The Grump I Married
“Sorry,” I said, relaxing my face. “Thinking too hard.” I caught my lip between my teeth, running over the interaction again. Had I spent half of my life feeling less than all because of a damn lie?
“What are you mulling over up there?” Tess asked.
I explained what Derek had said.
“You were in high school,” Tess said, trying to help me get some perspective. “You’d just suffered a massive trauma, the doctors hit you with the baby thing, and then your boyfriend did a disappearing act after hitting you with that? How else were you supposed to react?”
“You don’t think there might have been a misunderstanding in college then too?” I asked. “Was I wrong to think that Beckett rejected me because I couldn’t have children?”
“No,” Tess admitted, wincing as she took a long drag from her drink. “I really do think that’s exactly why Beckett dumped you—because he was an ass.”
The way she said it, so matter-of-fact, made me laugh despite everything.
“But forget about Beckett,” she said, stopping and squeezing my hand. It was cold from the condensation on her cup. “Because he’s not important. The important thing here is letting go of the idea that not being able to have children of your own means you won’t be loved. That’s just not true, Lena. And you need to stop putting that pressure on yourself. You’re not broken or less than, and if anyone tells you otherwise, send them my way and I’ll make sure they’re never seen again.” I choked back a laugh. “You deserve love the same as everyone else, and the ability to have children has nothing to do with that.”
I nodded, a bubble of emotion inflating inside me. “Do you think I got it wrong with Weston?” I asked, my voice smaller. More uncertain.
“I think we could speculate about that all day,” Tess said, “but there’s only one way to actually find out. You have to talk to him and ask if not being able to have kids was a dealbreaker?—”
“—or if I was making assumptions again.”
Tess nodded.
I gave her a sad, wan smile. “I’m not sure I’m brave enough for that.”
28
WESTON
Imade my way down the high street, Grandad’s letter in my pocket, and paused outside the solicitor’s office.Drummond & Kerrwas printed on the door in gold lettering.
I didn’t know what I was doing here.
Not exactly.
But I wanted answers, and I didn’t know where else to get them since the man I wanted to talk to most in the world was dead.
I pushed inside, finding the front room empty.
“Be out in a moment!” a gruff voice called. About thirty seconds later, a short, balding man appeared, a cup of tea in his hand.
“Ah, Weston,” he said. “Good to see you, son.”
“Mr. Drummond,” I replied. He was the same solicitor who had drawn up Grandad’s will.
“Told you to call me Craig.” He waved me toward his desk. “Can I get you something? A cuppa?”
“No, no,” I said, crossing the office.
Craig sank down in his leather chair. “What can I do for you?” he asked. “You look like a man on a mission.”
I pulled the letter from my pocket. I didn’t know what else to do, how else to explain, so I simply handed it over. Craig lifted his glasses onto the end of his nose, then started to read. “Ah, yes,” he said simply.
“It’s true then?” I said. “Grandad was only bluffing about giving the estate to Jasper? This whole will nonsense—it was all about trying to force me to confront my feelings for Lena?”
“It wasn’tallnonsense. But if you’re asking me if there was a backup plan should you fail to get married within the thirty days…” He climbed to his feet again, crossing the room to unlock a filing cabinet. He flipped through it, producing a sealed envelope. He handed it over. “Your grandfather also had this drawn up. What you saw was not actually the final paperwork. This was the final version of his will.”
I opened it.
