Page 12 of Vows We Never Made
I drop into the seat in front of her desk, rubbing my fingers along the leather arms absently.
“Surely, you can agree it doesn’t make sense.” I drop my voice. “I’m not old. Hattie doesn’t know me.”
How many years has it been?
Last time I saw her, she barely looked at me.
I’ll admit, I deserved it.
I was a raging little asshole to her when we were kids. All the more reason this marriage could be fatal.
“What’s the reason?” I press. “You saw him before he died. You knew his thinking, especially with estate planning.”
She shrugs. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
“What?”
“When he added his condition, I questioned it. I did my best to understand why, and I was very thorough. However, he was set on it. He didn’t care to elaborate. After the ink was on paper, I had no reason to press him before the end.”
I curse under my breath.
Gramps and his damn secrets.
He hid his illness from everyone until the day he died.
Not wanting us to worry or some shit.
Who knows.
There were never any limits to his pride.
Only his security head, Holden, knew about his condition before he slipped unconscious.
I wasn’t even there to see him off.
Everyone back at the office thought it was a stomach flu.
If I’d only known, I never would’ve let him die alone.
Neither would Margot or Cleo.
He had to know I’d drop everything and come.
Yes, we were in the middle of serious negotiations with Thompson over some new oceanfront property in Massachusetts, and the deal might have fallen through if I’d left abruptly.
But fuck it, that would have been worth it to be by his side when he passed, instead of getting a call from Mom to tell me he was dead.
Cancer.
Fast-moving, relentless, and secret. There was barely any time to diagnose it, and it was way past the treatment window.
He died like he lived his life, always in motion.
And damn if that’s not what I would’ve done, too.
Still, I would havetoldsomeone so they could mentally prepare.
Not this.
