Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“No. I…”
“Where is she? What hospital?” I repeated loudly and slowly.
“She’s gone. She died at the scene.”
My knees gave out, and I slid down the wall as my heart shattered. Not Molly. Not my Molly. How could I lose her like that?
How could she leave me?
And what about Joy?
3
PARKER CAIN
Molly Blanchard was dead.
My best friend since elementary school.
The first person I’d ever kissed. The first person I’d ever come out to. The first person I’d told my horrific dating stories.
The only person who wasn’t a blood relative that I loved with all my heart and soul.
She was dead, and it wasn’t fair.
Everyone said that when they lost someone who was dear to them, but in Molly’s case, it was fucking true.
She’d had her entire life ahead of her, a fan-fucking-tastic life with her brand-new baby girl.
Now she was gone, and all I could think on repeat was that it wasn’t fair.
Getting from the office to the hospital where she’d been taken was a complete blur. Then it had been rushing to the daycare to find out what they’d needed from me so that I could pick up Molly’s daughter, Joy. It wasn’t until I’d had the baby in my arms in Molly’s apartment that I’d dared to call Molly’s parents with the horrible news. And my parents.
Thankfully, my parents and my older brother, Jack, had jumped on a flight that night to help me through those first few days.
The one thing that was a breeze was taking custody of Joy.
I was her biological father, after all.
My dear sweet Molly had always had zero interest in dating and marriage. She’d just wanted a child. That was the only family she’d needed to feel complete. So, when my oldest friend had asked me to donate the sperm she’d needed to have a baby, how could I say no? At Joy’s birth, my name had been put on the birth certificate as her father. Molly’d even had a lawyer draw up more documents to make me Joy’s legal guardian if something should happen. To me, it had seemed unnecessary, but Molly had wanted her daughter protected at all costs.
Fuck. I remembered her laughing as she’d showed me those stupid legal documents, saying how there was no way I was getting my hands on her baby.
But now I was sitting here in this funeral home filled with colorful floral bouquets as a steady stream of friends and distant family shuffled by Molly’s casket to say good-bye to her before giving their condolences to Molly’s elderly parents.
Five days had passed since I’d received that horrible phone call, and I felt hollowed out and just shy of numb.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I mentally jerked awake. I started to jump out of my seat, ready to rush to help whoever needed me. But my eyes focused on a familiar face, and I froze in a half-standing, half-sitting position.
My mom stood beside me. Lenore Cain was a small, slender woman who had worn her dark hair in a jaw-length bob for as long as I could remember. Lenny to her friends, she was the type of person who always had a smile on her face for a stranger, an ear to lend to a friend, and some bit of advice for her four kids. But today, her smile was worn, and worry filled her pale-blue eyes.
Without her saying a word, I could feel her questioning how I was holding it together while she cradled Joy in her arms. I managed a nod that probably didn’t reassure her, but it was the best I could do right now. My mom sat in the chair beside mine and I dropped again, instantly reaching for Joy. I didn’t want to be away from her for too long. There was something inside me that was still afraid of someone attempting to take her from me, despite all the legal documents and rights that had been established.
Molly’s parents had announced that they were happy that I could be there to raise Joy. Molly had been a late-in-life baby. They had given up after years of trying and had been shocked to find they’d been blessed with a daughter. But both of them were now in their seventies and didn’t have the strength and stamina needed to take on a newborn.
“She finished most of her bottle and fell right to sleep,” my mother stated as I got Joy settled in my arms. “We can try to see if she wants the rest after she wakes up later.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I murmured as I checked to make sure her little pink floral onesie was settled around her comfortably.
I didn’t know enough about kids to raise Joy, but I was determined to learn everything I could. Since my mom’s arrival, I’d soaked in every word of advice and wisdom she could give me. She’d wrangled four of us and had somehow made it look easy.