He’s been my guardian. My rock—my everything. Can a dolphin say goodbye to the ocean? Can a morning glory say goodbye to the sun?
“I love you so much,” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t be sad, Aspen.”
He recognizes me, and my face crumples.
“Old people die,” he whispers. “That’s the way of the world. Your boyfriend…”
Boyfriend? It can’t be Zack, because he would’ve said the name. I wonder how far Grandpa’s gone back in time.
He continues, “He likes you. He’ll be there for you. He’s a good, solid boy. I feel like…” He swallows again. “I can count on him. Count on him to take care of you. He promised he would.”
Nobody made that promise, Grandpa. You’re the only one I have left. If you leave me, I’ll be alone.
But he looks so light and free that I just nod with a smile. “Yeah. He’s a good guy,” I say, even as my heart is breaking into pieces. I know I need to do this for him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Think I’ll…rest a little.” He closes his eyes, his lashes fluttering. After a few moments, his hand goes limp in mine.
Hot tears burn my cheeks. I bury my face in the crook of his neck.
I’m truly alone.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Grant
When Aspen doesn’t show up at the regular time, I tap my desk, wondering what’s going on. Then I remember: everyone’s coming in at ten today.
She must be taking advantage of that. She’s been avoiding me, and she isn’t going to come in a second sooner than she has to. That’s fine. It gives me more time to compose myself and what I need to say.
My anxiety ratchets up, though. I feel like words won’t be enough, but I don’t know if buying her something expensive is going to convince her I’m serious. Flowers, maybe? Then it hits me—the reason Aspen and I visited her grandparents’ home in the first place!
I contact the concierge service and ask them to get me as many jars of organic strawberry jam from Sun Valley Farms as possible. My gut tells me that little but thoughtful things like this are what’s going to convince her I’m not screwing around. She loved the jam fourteen years ago, and I hope she still loves it.
But she doesn’t come in by ten. I check half an hour later—still nothing.
I pull out my phone to text her, then notice an unread message on my messenger. It’s Leah from HR.
–Leah: FYI, Aspen called in sick.
That’s a lie… Isn’t it? She’s been avoiding me, and she’s doing it again. But I can’t tell Leah that.
–Me: Did you get to talk to her on the phone? How did she sound?
–Leah: Terrible. If she’s half as bad as she sounded, you would’ve had to send her home.
Okay, so maybe Aspen really is sick. Or maybe she sounds like crap from screaming expletives at me. But I put more credence in her being sick. She wouldn’t want to give up pay after not working at the bar over the weekend.
–Me: Does she have any sick days she can use?
–Leah: She has one day accumulated.
My first instinct is to offer money to Aspen to make up for it, but she’ll just refuse, regardless of whether she’s decided to forgive me or not. I should give her some overtime hours.
Or actually…I should use the charitable foundation Sebastian’s family funds.
–Me: Seb, didn’t you say your family has a foundation that helps pay for eldercare for the needy?
–Sebastian: Yeah. Why? Wanna donate? Grandmother’s always looking for new donors.
