Page 74 of Then and Now
JUDE: Terrifying, Sawyer. Truly.
SAWYER: Shut up.
JUDE: You shut up.
BECKETT: Guys. Seriously? Leo, keep us posted if and when you can.
I hit the mute option on the group chat with my cousins just as headlights flash in my rearview mirror.
“Thank fuck.”
I climb down from my truck and jog back to Serena’s car, opening her door before she’s even had a chance to kill the engine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching my hand in to take hers as she steps out of her car. I’ve got an irrational need to toss her over my shoulder and carry her inside all caveman like, just so I can get her alone and hold her.
Because even if she doesn’t need it, I do. I need to know my girl is alright.
“Have you been waiting here for me?”
I simply stare at her. “Of course I have. Where else would I be?”
Her smile is warm but tired. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and steer her toward the door. Once we’re upstairs in her apartment and she’s on the couch, I kiss the top of her head.
“Be right back.”
Then I run downstairs, grab the box of treats, and run back up. She’s still sitting where I left her, but her legs are drawn up and tucked underneath her. I study her carefully as I take off my duty belt, placing it by the door. She doesn’t seem angry or upset, but there is a heaviness to her mood.
I set the box down on the coffee table before sitting down next to her and opening my arms. “Come here, Tippy.”
It’s only once her body is tucked up against mine, her arms wrapped around my waist, that I let go of the worry I’ve had all day.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not yet, if that’s okay. When do you have to be home for Violet?”
“Kat’s with her. I can stay.”
“Good.” Her voice is muffled as she turns her face into my chest.
We sit like that for a few minutes. It’s killing me not to ask what happened, but if silence is what she needs, then that’s what she gets.
Eventually, her head lifts and she reaches for the bakery box. “How did you know I’d need some sugar?”
I just laugh. “Because I know you. Chocolate is your comfort food.”
She lifts out a brownie, takes a bite, then holds it up for me to share. Back and forth we go until it’s gone and she still hasn’t said a word about her father. Standing up, she walks to the kitchen. I hear the fridge open, then she’s back with a glass of milk. Offering it to me, I shake my head, and she drinks it down before returning the glass to the kitchen and then coming back to sit beside me.
“He’s dying.”
It takes a second for those words to register in my brain.
“Wow,” is all I can mutter at first.
“Yeah. Liver cancer. He doesn’t have a lot of time, which is why he wanted to see me. And get this. Once he quit gambling, he got a new job, and now he makes a ton of money. He has one hell of a life insurance policy, and he’s leaving it all to me when he dies. Money. The thing that tore my family apart in the end is what he’s using to try and fix things. Because that’s meant to make up for him being gone all this time.” Her voice wavers, and I pull her back into my chest. “The thing is, I forgave him. And I meant it. I understand now why he left and why he stayed away. But it still feels so unfair, like some cruel punishment that he’s only back because he’s dying. And the money, I don’t want it; I want him. But then again, I do want it. Because it’s the answer to all of my problems. Does that make me a terrible person? That I’m relieved he’s giving me money, even if it’s only because he’s dying?”
“God, no. Not at all.”
“I told him I didn’t want the money. I refused to take a copy of the will. I just, I can’t do that. I can’t take his money as some bizarre apology.”
