A little whimper leaves baby Milly’s lips, and we both look at Eva and Kaden’s daughter squirming in her stroller. She’s asleep, worn out from all the excitement of today.
“She’s such a little beauty,” I tell Eva, smiling at the gorgeous little baby as she pulls her thumb into her mouth, sucking greedily.
“I can’t believe she’s nine months old already. That she’s crawling and she’ll be walking soon. It’s happened in the blink of an eye.” She rocks the stroller back and forth with one hand while her other hand rests atop her large baby bump.
“I can’t believe you’ll be raising two little onesandbuilding a new business.” I sip my champagne before adding, “You’re an inspiration, Eva.”
Her features soften, and she lets go of the stroller to give me an awkward hug. It’s hard to embrace with her pregnant belly between us. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s so kind of you to say.” She eases back. “What do you plan to do after you finish college? Keanu says you’re studying psychology. Do you want to work as a psychologist?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“That’s a lot of study,” Eva says.
And she’s not wrong. After I graduate, it will take me at least four years of further study before I’m qualified to practice. “I know, but I’m in this for the long haul. I want to help other victims of sexual abuse. My therapist, Denise, has been a very important part of my recovery and my life, and I want to do for others what she’s done for me.”
“That’s amazing, Selena. And I think you’ll make a wonderful therapist.”
I clasp my hands in my lap, and I can’t believe I’m going to tell Eva this. Keanu, Denise, and my mom are the only other people I’ve ever mentioned this to.
But I like Eva a lot.
She’s easy to talk to, and she emits a mothering vibe I can’t help but be drawn to.
“I want to set up a sanctuary. A place where victims can come to heal away from the pressures of the outside world.” My cheeks inflame as Eva gives me her full attention. “I want to offer a variety of therapies and supplementary holistic treatments and a bunch of other stuff.” I’ve thought about this in-depth, and I have detailed plans, but I’m sure she doesn’t want me boring her about all this stuff.
She stares at me for a few moments with an awed expression on her face. “I think you’re wrong, Selena,” she says, startling me. “I think it’s you who is the inspiration.”
* * *
“I can’t believeyour family bought us a boat!” I exclaim a couple hours later after the Kennedys surprised us with an over-the-top wedding gift.
“Don’t be fooled, babe,” Keanu says, as we sway to a slow number on the dance floor. “It’s as much for their benefit as it is ours.”
“Even still. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
He kisses me. “Get used to it, wife. When I come into my full inheritance next year, we’re going to be mega rich. You won’t ever want for anything.”
“You know me,” I say, shrugging. “I don’t need much.”
“That’s one of the things I love most about you,” he says. “But it’s nice to not have to worry about it.”
“Keanu!” Keven bursts through the front entrance of the marquee, his cheeks red, looking like he’s run all the way from the main house to here.
Bile floods my mouth as he races toward us, and Keanu grabs hold of my hand, leading me off the dance floor. We meet halfway to the door. “What’s going on?” Keanu asks.
“You need to come back to the house. There’s a breaking story on CNN you need to see.”
Keanu and I share a look as we follow Keven back to the house. The rest of Keanu’s family follows us, and when we congregate in the living room, where Eva, Kaden, and Cheryl are already lounging on couches, everyone piles into the room, dropping into seats. Keanu pulls me down on one of the leather recliners, positioning me on his lap. His arms automatically go around me, and everyone quiets down as Keven raises the volume on the TV.
A reporter is standing outside an apartment building in downtown Boston with a serious expression on her face. In the background are several law enforcement cars and trucks, including vehicles with the FBI logo on them. A van from the M.E’s office pulls up, followed by a blacked-out SUV, and other reporters surge on the new arrival.
“According to our sources,” the reporter says into her microphone, “the alarm was raised an hour ago when a neighbor reported hearing gunshots coming from the penthouse suite Mr. Lawrence has been renting since he moved to the city.”
Keanu clasps my hands, rubbing his thumb across my skin in soothing circles. My breath falters as I wait for the reporter to continue.
“Police arrived shortly on the scene, quickly followed by local agents from the FBI.” She taps her ear, her eyes widening as she listens to whatever is being said. Then she refocuses on the camera. “We have just received confirmation that Clive Lawrence, the Oscar-winning director, has been shot and killed. We have no details at this time, but we’ll share more information as we receive it.”
Keven mutes the TV but leaves it on. The headline flashes repeatedly across the screen.
