Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
But it’s got to be more than that. If it was just about money, he would have asked for money.
No, Gray seemed to think that I was necessary for his daughter’s ultimate well-being and I have to respect that.
Now the question is, do I honor his wishes? Do I upend my entire existence to take on the role of fatherhood, which I haven’t planned for? Sure, someday I’ll get married and have kids, but I’m not ready for that yet.
I set the letter to the side and sink back into the cushions. Christ, how did things get so complicated? The full weight of what I’ve lost, and what I’ve been asked to carry, crashes down on me.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I feel compelled to put that out there. I can’t commit to this without some serious thought and soul examination.
“I don’t need your—”
“I get it,” I cut in over her. “You’re independent, strong, confident. All the makings of a great mom. But no offense, I trust Gray, not you, and he wants me involved.”
Her eyes harden on me, a look that puts me on edge, and yet she gently cuddles Grayce to her. “Well, no offense, but I don’t trust you either.”
“But you did trust Gray, right?”
She glares at me, silent.
I stand up from the couch. “I need some space. I’ll be back.”
Maddie doesn’t reply but also rises, tucking Grayce against her hip. She nuzzles her head and asks, “Are you hungry? I’m thinking I see some applesauce in your future.”
I’m thinking I see a whole lot of trouble in my future. I need objective advice, and I need it now.
CHAPTER 4
Maddie
The sky has turned gray and bleak with an impending storm on the horizon, matching my mood perfectly. My best friend died and now I’m starting an entirely new life as the guardian—no, mom—of a beautiful little girl. Grayce is in her playpen across the room, gnawing on a slobbery plastic giraffe while I sit cross-legged on the floor in Gray’s office.
I was as mentally prepared as I could be when Gray passed. I’d already started pre-grieving, if that’s even a thing. I knew the time was coming and there was even a moment of relief that his suffering, and let’s be honest, mine, was over.
I’m also prepared to become Grayce’s everything. When Gray was first diagnosed and before we even knew how bad it was, he tapped me to take her.
“When I die,” he’d said.
I cut him off with a harsh glare. “You’re not going to die.”
“If I die,” he amended. “Will you look after Grayce?”
I didn’t want to talk about those things. My energy was focused on how to cure him. But he pestered me and finally, I told him, “Of course I’ll look after her.”
We had weeks of conversations after that. Gray spent all his lucid moments telling me what he wanted for Grayce. He even recorded videos that I could show her at certain milestones. Every birthday she’d have, when she turned sixteen, advice on driving, graduation from high school, college, and of course, when she gets married. In all those discussions and planning, not once did he indicate to me that he wanted Atlas involved.
Sure, I understand how much he loves that big oaf. They have years and years of history together, and yes, I know Gray thought of Atlas as his brother and vice versa. But never did he question my ability to raise Grayce. There was no indication he thought I needed Atlas.
That letter was a complete blindside and I’m still reeling, trying to come to grips with this complication. I have no clue what Atlas will do, but he texted me this morning to say he’d be by to discuss it.
To try to make sense of just how messy things have become, I decided today would be the perfect time to review all the paperwork I’d need to navigate the aftermath of Gray’s death. Of course, he had everything in order, down to color-coded folders and labeled binders. He’d gone through all of it with me over the last several weeks.
He created a trust for Grayce, laying out just how his estate would be used to provide for her. The life insurance documents are clipped neatly together, medical bills in another stack.
And in a sealed envelope, guardianship paperwork spelling out who would be responsible for his daughter.
I opened it and speed-read the pages.
Two sets—one with both our names listed as equal custodians, and then a second set that names only me if Atlas decides to walk away.
My throat tightens at that. Did Gray know Atlas might not want this? Did he plan for the rejection? Or did he just want to make sure I wasn’t left tangled in legal red tape if Atlas bailed?
Regardless, it seems Gray thought of everything. There’s no turmoil here, no unanswered questions. Gray made sure of that.