“That sounds like Grace.”
“She missed.”
“That also sounds like Grace.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then she cried for two hours.”
His smile disappeared.
“She asked me whether I loved her or felt sorry for her.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you say?”
“I told her the truth.”
He looked directly at me.
“I loved her before the contract. I loved her while I signed it. And I would’ve married her if your parents had offered me nothing but a handshake.”
I sat beside him.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because she knew what you’d do.”
“What would I do?”
“Exactly what you’re about to do.”
He glanced toward the elevators.
“You’d destroy your relationship with your parents.”
“Maybe they deserve it.”
“Grace didn’t want to lose her entire family.”
I looked down.
“And tonight?”
Daniel’s voice became almost inaudible.
“Before they took her into surgery, she told me that if she didn’t wake up, you deserved the truth.”
I closed my eyes.
For four years, I had believed Grace’s wedding represented the moment she finally escaped other people deciding what her life should look like.
I hadn’t realized how literal that was.
Footsteps approached.
A surgeon was coming toward us.