Iris nodded in understanding. “Give it some time. The right answer will come to you.”
I looked up at her. “You were right. You always said that he had his reasons for being so closed off, but I never imagined this.”
She let out a deep breath. “Charlotte . . . you know . . . MS is not a death sentence. Reed was actually cautiously optimistic when he was first diagnosed. He’s seen all of the best specialists in Manhattan, and they all reassured him that many people can live perfectly normal lives with it; it’s just that there are some who aren’t so lucky. There’s really no way to know which category Reed will fall into. Only time will tell. But when Allison determined that she couldn’t handle the thought of the worst-case scenario, Reed was blindsided. That gave him a different perspective, one none of us have been able to snap him out of. He started to focus on the negative . . . the what-ifs. He lost a lot of faith that he hasn’t been able to get back.”
“He really loved her . . .” That was the one thing I’d known from the very beginning.
“He did. But clearly, she’s not the one. He’s determined not to let love in, Charlotte. I can’t say with absolute certainty that he will ever change his mind on that. But the thought of my grandson living his life without experiencing the joys of true love and a family of his own makes my heart hurt immensely.”
Tears stung my eyes. To imagine that there was a chance Reed might never be able to experience love again hurt my heart immensely, too.CHAPTER 26
REED
There was no doubt that something was seriously off with Charlotte since we’d returned from the Adirondacks.
For the past couple of days, she’d been avoiding me, and while I knew that was really for the best, my curiosity got to me. I scheduled her to come help me at the showing of one of the more spectacular properties of my entire career. She’d insisted on getting a car service and not driving out to the Hamptons with me, making up some sorry excuse about her schedule. But I knew it was because she was avoiding being alone with me. That should have made me happy. But I was perplexed. Was this about my rejecting her advances? I couldn’t be sure.
The Easthampton house was so close to the water it was practically sitting in the ocean. The twenty-million-dollar, European-style estate was designed with the finest imported materials from floor to ceiling and wasn’t going to stay on the market long. We had three appointments in a row, and I fully expected to be closing a deal by tomorrow once the three parties had time to mull over their competitive offers.
When the showings were over, Charlotte and I had a chance to really talk for the first time all day. She’d taken off her shoes as we strolled along in the sandy water.
“Let me ask you something, Reed.”
“Alright . . .”
“I got the sense from your enthusiasm in showing this property, from the light in your eyes when you talked about its Gatsby-like, stately elegance . . . that you’re very fond of it. But would you actually live here, in this house?”
That was a no-brainer. “I absolutely would, yes.”
“What if I told you I wouldn’t live here because it’s so close to the water that I’d be afraid of what might happen if there were ever a major hurricane?”
“I’d say you were seriously crazy.”
She tilted her head. “Really? Why?”
Where was she going with this?
“Because this house is the most amazing property I’ve ever had the privilege to represent. To not want to live in it, to not experience all of its splendor on a daily basis because you’re worried about the potential of a storm, is ludicrous.”
“You don’t think that my fear should stop me from enjoying this beautiful house to its fullest—”
“No, I don’t.”
She added, “Because the storm may never come.”
“That’s right.”
“So, if this house represented life . . . then you don’t believe you should live your life based on fear.”
The serious look on her face gave me pause. I stopped walking. The ocean breeze was blowing her hair around. The way she was staring into my eyes . . . something was not right. Charlotte was asking me that question for a reason.
We weren’t really talking about the house.
Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline ran through me. Had she figured it out? Had she somehow gotten access to my medical records? Could she possibly know about my diagnosis? No. That’s impossible. I’d done everything in my power to keep all that information private.
But this was Charlotte Darling we were talking about. Anything was possible.
I had to know.
“What are you really talking about here, Charlotte?”