Chapter 8 8

The hour-long trip to Appleseed Manor passed in relative silence. The only conversation in the car was between Elias and Kellan, mostly revolving around business. Willow was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window with a faraway expression.

I leaned back against the headrest, nausea twisting in my stomach from motion sickness. I spent most of the trip with my eyes closed, praying I wouldn’t throw up all over the pristine leather seats. To distract myself, I listened to an audiobook on my phone and nibbled on some saltine crackers, ignoring the look of disapproval on Elias’ face as I ate in the car.

Mercifully, we were soon turning into the long driveway of the manor. I sat up to watch the passing scenery, nostalgia washing over me at the familiar sight of the tall cypress trees lining each side of the gravel drive, the glimpses of well-tended flower gardens, and, just over the small hill to the west, Lake Maria, named after Paul’s first wife and Elias’ mother. A wistful smile touched my lips as I recalled the many happy memories I had as a teen running and laughing along the lake’s banks. I used to spend my evenings daydreaming about Elias, imagining him holding me in his arms, kissing me, promising that I would always be the only woman he loved.

How naive I had been. I looked away from the glistening water, unable to stomach how foolish those dreams were. Cars lined the driveway, and a few early guests lingered outside, dressed in somber clothing. The reminder of why we were here stung, and tears pricked my eyes.

Paul was truly gone. I would never again hear his booming laugh or see the twinkle in his eyes when something excited him. I would never feel the warmth of his comforting hugs again.

He would never meet his grandchild. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I dug through my purse for a handkerchief. When I found one, I frowned, my hand pausing over the bag’s contents. A quick search confirmed that what I was looking for was no longer there.

The ultrasound picture was missing.

I sat back, trying to figure out where it could be. The last time I had seen it was the night before, just before bed, when I had pulled it out to stare at the tiny white blur my doctor had said was my baby.

If it wasn’t in my bag, maybe I had left it on my bedside table. For a moment, I worried that Elias might find it before I could tell him, but soon dismissed the thought. Other than what had happened earlier, he never came into my bedroom, so it should be safe.

Still, I made a mental note to ask my assistant to drop by the house later and take care of the ultrasound.

The car came to a stop in front of a set of double doors that stood wide open. An elderly woman with white hair hurried over as soon as we stepped out.

“Elias!” Stella Sinclair’s smile lit up the entire foyer as she approached us. “You’re here.”

“Gran, how are you?” Elias pulled his grandmother into a hug, a genuinely pleased smile on his face, and not for the first time, I was struck by how much that smile transformed his features. Somber, he had that cold, detached handsomeness typical of the heroes in romance novels, but when he smiled, his face became indescribably beautiful. His eyes lit up, the icy blue deepening to something warm and magnetic, enough to make any woman sit up and take notice. It was almost a blessing he didn’t smile often.

My own heart wasn’t spared either.

“Hanging in there,” Stella replied, her gaze sweeping over him. “You look like you’ve lost some weight. Haven’t you been eating well?”

Her eyes slid toward me as she spoke, and I didn’t miss the mild accusation in her tone. Feeling awkward, I looked down at my shoes, my face heating with embarrassment, even though Stella’s assumption was misplaced. Her precious grandson never let me cook for him.

What was I supposed to do, force-feed him? I’d likely get a scathing remark for my trouble.

“I’m fine, Gran,” Elias reassured her with a chuckle. With a gentle arm around her shoulders, he led her toward Kellan and Willow. “You remember Kellan, don’t you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Sinclair.” Kellan stepped forward, bending down to place a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. “You look breathtaking as always.”

“Psh, stop it. You haven’t changed one bit, still charming every woman in sight,” Stella teased, pulling him into a hug. “There wasn’t a single girl in our neighborhood you didn’t sweet-talk when you were a teenager.”

“Ah, Stella, you wound me.” Kellan placed a hand over his chest in mock hurt. “You know I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

“Stop trying to flirt with my grandmother,” Elias said dryly, rolling his eyes in good humor.

“It’s nice to see you again, Stella,” Willow added, leaning in to hug her. “I’m sorry it’s under such sad circumstances. Paul will be dearly missed.”

“Thank you, dear.” Stella’s expression softened with sorrow. “I never thought I’d outlive my own children. Watching your child suffer,” her voice faltered, emotion thick in her throat.

“I can only imagine how hard it must be,” Willow said gently. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“You’re so sweet, dear,” Stella murmured, patting her arm. “Come, it’s almost time for the service to begin.”

Still holding onto Willow, her other arm looped through Elias’, she led them toward the living room.

I hung back, noting how Stella had barely acknowledged me and probably didn’t want me tagging along. With a weary sigh, I headed toward the nearest bathroom. Since my pregnancy, my bladder had decided it could only hold so much liquid, and my bathroom breaks had become more frequent.

Once that was taken care of, I wandered upstairs, thankfully off-limits to guests, and paused in front of a set of ornate wooden double doors. Taking a deep breath, I pushed them open and stepped into Paul’s study.

The heavy curtains were drawn, casting the room in a soft gloom. The lingering scent of his favorite cigars filled the air, warm, heady, and comforting. My heart clenched as I traced a finger along his gleaming desk, brushing past stacks of papers and files arranged in his usual haphazard way. I could almost see him sitting there, cigar in hand, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he told me another story from his younger days.

A large portrait hung above the desk, and I stared at it through tears.

“I hope you’re no longer in pain,” I whispered to his grinning face. “I bet you’re giving the angels a run for their money right now.”

Needing comfort, I sank into his chair, curled my knees to my chest, and rested my head against the back. “I miss you so much. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye.”

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

The unexpected voice shattered the silence. Startled, I sat up, then leapt to my feet with a cry of surprise and delight.