I never told him I loved him.
* * *
I’m notsure how long I sit there, but a coldness that shouldn’t exist in a soul washes over me.
“Emory?” My head whips to the door to see the tear-stained face of Sylvie Westbrook, followed by Dr. Terry.
She runs at me, and I prepare for a beating I’d sure want to dole out if I were in her position, but squeak in surprise as she wraps me in the tightest hug I’ve ever received.
Through her own pain, she does what mothers do, she comforts. With my face in her hands, we stare at each other while tears flow freely.
“Oh, my dear. I bet you were a beautiful bride,” she says.
Speaking at the same time, I say, “I’m so sorry.”
We sit in the private room for what seems like hours. Dr. Terry leaves to extract some scrubs for me, and then we wait some more. We both know the outcome. Sylvie has lived it, and I’ve studied it. Yet here we are, waiting on a miracle.
Chapter 35
Emory
Sylvie lays with her head on my shoulder, having cried herself to sleep a few hours ago. She’d been the one to tell Preston’s family and friends the news with Dr. Terry. I stayed back with Preston, ever the cowardly lion afraid to face the ones I’ve deceived.
As far as I know, they’re all still in the main waiting area even though hospital staff tried to remove them. After making a few calls to crucial hospital benefactors, they decided it was not in the hospital’s best financial interest to remove eight of the East Coast’s wealthiest people.
A knock on the door has my heart racing, but I’m surprised to see an older, familiar face enter. My change in posture wakes Sylvie, who recognizes the man immediately.
“Ben, thank you for coming.”
“Ben? Ben Simmons? Preston’s attorney?”
“Your attorney now, too,” he replies.
“B-But you’re the judge who married us.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
“Ben here did the same thing to me when he married Preston’s dad and I,” Sylvie huffs.
“That’s true. Still, I’m very sorry we’re here again,” he tells us.
Sylvie sniffles but says nothing.
“I understand they’ll be bringing him to a room soon, is that correct?”
“Yes, they said it would be about an hour,” I tell him.
“I suggest we go through the paperwork now then if that’s okay? That way, you can spend as much time as possible focusing on Preston.”
“I’ll … I’ll just step out so you can have some privacy. I’ll be in the hall in case there is any news.”
“Wait, Emory. You need to be a part of this conversation,” Ben says.
“Oh, no. I’m all set. I knew that we wouldn’t have much time together, so we fixed the prenup accordingly. Everything that’s Preston’s will stay his, or yours, I’m assuming,” I explain to Sylvie. “I only agreed to marry him if he promised to leave everything to his family. And really, I’m having a hard time talking about him like he isn’t here. He is still here, so I’ll let you two handle this.”
Sylvie looks at me kindly.
“Emory, he is leaving everything to his family. As soon as you married him, you became his family, and he changed his will.”