does that sound familiar.
“he said he can’t afford to lose both of his best investment
bankers.”
Wait— both ?
“What does that mean? has Drew not been going to work?”
A small, wishful flame flickers in my stomach. Maybe Drew
is just as devastated as I am. Maybe he’s gone into hibernation
again—like he did the last time.
George quickly douses my poor little flame. “No, no he’s been
there . . .”
Damn it.
“. . . twice, actually. And drunker than a longshoreman on
leave, from what I heard. When John asked him about your resig-
nation letter, Drew told him to mind his own business—in his own
colorful way, of course. Needless to say, his future at the firm is . . .
fluid . . . at the moment.”
I interpret this information the only way I can, considering
who Drew was keeping company with the last time I saw him.
“Wow. he must be having a really good time if he’s still drunk the morning after.”
George tilts his head to the side. “I wouldn’t quite look at it
that way, Kate.”
I clench my jaw stubbornly. And lie. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t
care anymore.”
There’s a moment of silence, and George stares at the pattern
on the teacup. Then he purses his lips. And his voice is hushed—
Twisted_1P.indd 99
11/18/13 11:47 AM
100
E m m a c h a s E
reverent—like talking in church. “I don’t know how much Drew
told you about my Janey.”
Quite a lot, actually. Janey Reinhart was a wonderful woman—
kind, bright, warm.
She was diagnosed with breast cancer when Drew was ten and
fought it for four years. Drew told me the day she passed away was the day he realized that bad things really happen—and not just to
people you read about in the newspaper.
“When she died . . . I wanted to die too. And I would have,
if it wasn’t for Steven. Because that’s what children are, Kate. Life renewed.”
I know he means well. Really I do. But I can’t handle this.
I’m not ready to deal with the speech about how lucky I am to be
pregnant.
And alone.
“Still . . . it was . . . awful. For a long time, it was just one
terrible moment after the next. You know Steven has his mother’s
eyes. Looking at him is like looking at Janey. And there were some days—really bad days—that I almost hated him for it.”
I suck in a quick breath. This isn’t the pep talk I was expecting.
“But still, time marched on. And things became . . . bearable.
I gained a daughter-in-law and a beautiful granddaughter. And
eventually, it didn’t hurt to breathe.”
Tears creep into my eyes. Because I know what he’s saying. I
know that pain.
“But it wasn’t until I met your mother that the part of me that
died with Janey came back to life. That I was whole again.”
I rub my eyes dry and scoff, “So what are you telling me,
George? I’ll find another Drew again? It may just take fifteen years or so?”
Bitterness? Not attractive. Yeah—I know.
Twisted_1P.indd 100
11/18/13 11:47 AM
t w i s t E d
101
George’s shakes his head slowly. “No, Kate. You’ll never find
another Drew. Just like I’ll never have another Janey, and your
mother will never have another Nate. But . . . what I’m trying to
tell you is . . . the heart heals. And life goes on . . . and brings you with it . . . even if you don’t want to go.”
I bite my bottom lip. And nod my head. I put the cup back on
the tray, ending the conversation. George pulls himself out of the beanbag chair and picks up the tray. he walks to the door, but he
turns back to me before he goes through it.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but . . .
I’ve known Drew his whole life. I watched him grow up with Mat-
thew and Steven and Alexandra. I’m not defending him; I have no
idea why he’s made the choices he has. But . . . I can’t help but feel sorry for him. Because one day he’s going to open his eyes and realize that he’s made the biggest mistake of his life. And
“he said he can’t afford to lose both of his best investment
bankers.”
Wait— both ?
“What does that mean? has Drew not been going to work?”
A small, wishful flame flickers in my stomach. Maybe Drew
is just as devastated as I am. Maybe he’s gone into hibernation
again—like he did the last time.
George quickly douses my poor little flame. “No, no he’s been
there . . .”
Damn it.
“. . . twice, actually. And drunker than a longshoreman on
leave, from what I heard. When John asked him about your resig-
nation letter, Drew told him to mind his own business—in his own
colorful way, of course. Needless to say, his future at the firm is . . .
fluid . . . at the moment.”
I interpret this information the only way I can, considering
who Drew was keeping company with the last time I saw him.
“Wow. he must be having a really good time if he’s still drunk the morning after.”
George tilts his head to the side. “I wouldn’t quite look at it
that way, Kate.”
I clench my jaw stubbornly. And lie. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t
care anymore.”
There’s a moment of silence, and George stares at the pattern
on the teacup. Then he purses his lips. And his voice is hushed—
Twisted_1P.indd 99
11/18/13 11:47 AM
100
E m m a c h a s E
reverent—like talking in church. “I don’t know how much Drew
told you about my Janey.”
Quite a lot, actually. Janey Reinhart was a wonderful woman—
kind, bright, warm.
She was diagnosed with breast cancer when Drew was ten and
fought it for four years. Drew told me the day she passed away was the day he realized that bad things really happen—and not just to
people you read about in the newspaper.
“When she died . . . I wanted to die too. And I would have,
if it wasn’t for Steven. Because that’s what children are, Kate. Life renewed.”
I know he means well. Really I do. But I can’t handle this.
I’m not ready to deal with the speech about how lucky I am to be
pregnant.
And alone.
“Still . . . it was . . . awful. For a long time, it was just one
terrible moment after the next. You know Steven has his mother’s
eyes. Looking at him is like looking at Janey. And there were some days—really bad days—that I almost hated him for it.”
I suck in a quick breath. This isn’t the pep talk I was expecting.
“But still, time marched on. And things became . . . bearable.
I gained a daughter-in-law and a beautiful granddaughter. And
eventually, it didn’t hurt to breathe.”
Tears creep into my eyes. Because I know what he’s saying. I
know that pain.
“But it wasn’t until I met your mother that the part of me that
died with Janey came back to life. That I was whole again.”
I rub my eyes dry and scoff, “So what are you telling me,
George? I’ll find another Drew again? It may just take fifteen years or so?”
Bitterness? Not attractive. Yeah—I know.
Twisted_1P.indd 100
11/18/13 11:47 AM
t w i s t E d
101
George’s shakes his head slowly. “No, Kate. You’ll never find
another Drew. Just like I’ll never have another Janey, and your
mother will never have another Nate. But . . . what I’m trying to
tell you is . . . the heart heals. And life goes on . . . and brings you with it . . . even if you don’t want to go.”
I bite my bottom lip. And nod my head. I put the cup back on
the tray, ending the conversation. George pulls himself out of the beanbag chair and picks up the tray. he walks to the door, but he
turns back to me before he goes through it.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but . . .
I’ve known Drew his whole life. I watched him grow up with Mat-
thew and Steven and Alexandra. I’m not defending him; I have no
idea why he’s made the choices he has. But . . . I can’t help but feel sorry for him. Because one day he’s going to open his eyes and realize that he’s made the biggest mistake of his life. And
Similar Books
