Page 19 of Playing A Risk
He slides onto his chair. “I doubt it. She would’ve done it by now.”
I shrug, an underlying sense of doom vibrating through me. “Maybe, but I have a feeling she will.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Do you remember the betting chips she gave us when she left?”
“I do.”
“Do you remember what she said when she gave it to you?”
He’s silent for a moment. “Something like it was a sign she’d always be there to help if I needed it and if she ever sent me one, I should know that she’s supporting me and taking care of things behind the scenes like she always would be.”
I run my hand over the back of my stiff neck. “That’s not what she said to me.”
“What did she say to you?”
“That if I ever got one from her, that meant she’d be coming back to make things right.”
Jonah’s brows pinch together. “That’s strange she told us different things.”
My mind just got fucked. “It is. I wonder what she meant.”
“Well, I’m not holding my breath to find out.”
I nod and let the subject go. Jonah has no insights intowhat Mommy Dearest wants from me, so I’d rather not get him involved. We ease into a conversation about our Christmas plans before I excuse myself to go to therapy.
When I get home, my apartment is quiet. There’s no sign of Dorothy. It’s getting dark outside, so I venture upstairs to see if I can find her in my library. I peek in but don’t see her.
Please let her be here.
As I turn away, a pink mound on the terrace catches my eye. It’s her, balled up and crying on the ground. My heart aches.
Fuck, Jamison did a number on her.
And as good as that is for me, I hate seeing her this upset. I open the doors and go to her.
“Beauty, let me take you inside.” I glide my arm over her shoulders. “It’s too cold to be out here.”
She raises her head. Her eyes are almost swollen shut and her misery drills into me. Her devastation is pulverizing.
“Dorothy, you need my help.”
She crawls into my arms and snuggles against my chest. “I know why it’s so hard.”
“Why what’s so hard?”
“Why knowing he has a son is so hard to accept.”
Oh, that’s what all this sadness is about.
How could I’ve not seen it?
“And why is that?” I ask.
The last thing I want to do is assume. If I’m wrong, she could run off and shut down from me.
“Because he has…something I…never will.” Her words bounce through her choppy breaths. “I can’t give any man a child.”
