“‘Cause I didn’t know where we were headed, and I didn’t want to make you feel trapped. You’ve been so stressed with the club, and I didn’t want to add to it.”
“Babe, you gotta stop doin’ that.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to handle shit by yourself all the time. Especially now.”
“I can’t help it. For so long, I was the only one I had to depend on. Plus, I didn’t want me being pregnant to make you feel obligated to stay with me.”
“Never, babe. ‘Cause from now on, we’re gonna be handling all the life shit together.” I gather her into my arms. “This is the best news ever. Must’ve happened soon after we got back together.”
A loud crash of thunder makes both of us jump, then the room becomes weirdly dark.
“Must be a big storm coming.”
Then another crash followed by a flash of lightning. “Sounds like something fell on the patio.” I struggle to stand. “Help me up.”
Cheryl braces her arm under mine, and I push off the couch. I get my legs under me, and we head to the back of the house. By the time we reach the patio, the wind has picked up to almost hurricane proportions.
Cheryl opens the slider, and we step out onto the flagstone. The sky is dead black, the air is oddly damp, and a dark cloud hovers over the pool.
“What is that?” Cheryl backs toward the house.
“Nothing to worry about, babe.” A peaceful sensation fills me from head to toe. “It’s just the Grim Reaper.”
“The Grim Reaper?” she shouts.
“Yeah, he really got a bad rap over the years, ‘cause a lot of people got the wrong idea about him.”
Cheryl screws up her face. “That’s ‘cause a lot of people think he brings death.”
“See, and that’s nothing but bullshit. He’s really an unbiased guide into the unavoidable destiny that awaits us. Even the sickle symbolizes a tool used at harvest time,signifying the passage of time—like the cycle of life and death.”
Cheryl’s eyes widen like she thinks I’ve lost it.
“Sounds crazy, right? But it’s true.”
“And where did you read about all this?”
“I didn’t read about it. He told me when he visited me the other night. He was the fucker who showed me my future, and I gotta tell you, it wasn’t pretty. You were tied to that asshole Pierce, and I was hanging out in a dive bar, shoving blow up my nose with hookers.”
“That must’ve been some dream you had.”
“It wasn’t a dream, babe, it was . . . Holy shit!” I look over Cheryl’s shoulder, and the jewelry box is sitting on the table. I move around her, stiffly bend, wince, and pick up the box off the table.
“You left it out here?” Cheryl asks.
“Nah, it was in my office at Wicked.”
“Then how did it get— You trying to tell me some Grim Reaper put it there?”
I shrug. “You said it, not me.”
She furrows her brow and examines the box. “Harry Winston?”
“Only the best for you, babe.” I nod at the box. “Open it.”
She slowly opens it and gasps. “Nick, it’s beautiful.”
