In three months, I’ll be blind, and she has no idea. She’s worried about theoretical illnesses while I’m facing actual, imminent disability.
“I take care of myself, Mom.”
“But for how long? You’re twenty-seven. When I was your age, I had you. I had a family.”
“And look how that turned out,” I say before I can stop myself.
I cringe in the silence that follows.
“I’m sorry,” I rush to add. “I didn’t mean?—”
“No, you’re right.” She’s whispering now. Her voice is small, wounded, a fluttering little bird that just got mauled and left for dead. “I’ve made mistakes. God knows I’ve made so many mistakes. But you… you were never one of them. You’re the best thing I ever did.”
My eyes burn. “Mom?—”
“Take the promotion, baby. Take it and don’t look back. Don’t end up like me, always scrambling, always behind. You’re smart. So much smarter than I ever was. You deserve good things.”
“So do you.”
“Ship’s sailed on that one, honey. You still have time, though. Don’t waste it.”
Eighty-eight days as of midnight, my brain supplies helpfully.That’s how much time you have.
After I hang up and transfer the money—leaving me with $242.83 in checking—I sit in the growing darkness of my apartment. I should turn on a light, but there’s something fitting about sitting in the dark, rehearsing for my future.
A million dollars.
I can pay off my student loans. I’ll get Mom into a decent apartment, one where the roof doesn’t leak when the snowmelts. And when the time comes, I’ll be able to pay for whatever treatments might help me, even if they’re experimental. Until that happens, I can travel, see things—reallyseethem—before the lights go out for good.
All I have to do is survive three months with Bastian Hale.
I pull out my phone and open the email app.
Subject: Re: Your Offer
Mr. Hale,
After careful consideration, I accept your terms. Ninety days, as discussed. I’ll expect the contract by tomorrow morning.
Regards,
E. Hunter
I hit send, then immediately want to throw up. What am I doing? Making a deal with the devil, that’s what. A devil who makes Gordon Ramsay look like a teddy bear.
My phone pings. That can’t be him, right? It’s been thirty seconds.
Subject: Re: Re: Your Offer
I’ve already prepared the paperwork.
We both knew you were always going to say yes.
—Bastian
8
BASTIAN
