Bad Boy Rich - Page 96
“I’m dying, Wesley. That’s why she ran away. They found a tumor. I don’t know how long, but I know not long, I feel it.”
My heart shatters, aching for this woman that I had just met but felt like I had known a lifetime. Whatever I said, or did—could not do anything to erase the pain she must be feeling. I felt obliged, if not honored, that she needed me. I would do anything, throw all the money I had to give her the best treatment. Whatever she needed, I would make it happen.
And with that thought, I ask the pressing question, “Where is she?”
Katya pulls a paper and pen from her cardigan pocket, writing down an address.
“I don’t know if she’s here, but I know my daughter. She will go back to a place that brings her happy memories. The last time before I was diagnosed, we were here. It’s a start, go see, and if she’s there, tell her you came and saw me. That’s all she needs, I promise.”
“I won’t let you down, Mrs. Milenov.”
With a courageous smile, she caresses my cheek. “Mrs. Milenov makes me sound old and weatherly. How about just Katya?”
Leaning in, I embrace Katya and feared letting her go. There’s something to be said about acceptance; it’s life changing. The moment it comes together, the moment you accept your flaws, understand your mistakes and find what it is in life you’re fighting for—is a complete game changer.
Everything about Milana now pieced together.
And once I found her—I would tell her exactly that.
The lake is beautiful.
Dark, eerily peaceful with the moon’s reflection adding to its beauty. I envied it. The serenity, the way it was so peaceful at night but during the day—it was something else. It made people happy, it brought joy to many.
No matter what, it was beautiful inside and out.
Nothing at al
l like me.
There’s this constant heaviness weighing me down. I’ve been sitting on this rock for hours on end, staring, contemplating, and trying to extract any emotion to give me back my sanity. Whatever this is, it’s got a hold of me, it’s in my bones and in my blood. It’s everywhere I look, it’s everywhere I am.
And the irony; my memory never falters. Taunting me each waking moment and reliving this nightmare that had constantly become my primary focus.
“Milly, stop drinking.”
Liam’s voice is annoying and directly in front of me. He could never just let loose and have fun, always playing the parental card.
“Let her go.” Phoebe laughs, holding a bottle of champagne in the air. “She’s finnneeee.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I hold onto his shoulder for support, the room spinning with rainbows and funny music.
Phoebe stops in the middle of us, scratching her head. “Why are we here again?”
Liam huffs, “You wanted Doritos.”
“Oh my God. YES. And peanuts…salty peanuts.”
“Maca…macadammiiaa..na..na,” Phoebe slurs.
I burst out laughing, stuck in a coughing fit. “You’re soooo drunk.”
“The both of you are terrible. I am never picking you two up again. I mean it this time.”
“Nah, c’mon,” I throw my arm over his shoulder, leaning my head into him. He did smell nice. “You love me. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Phoebe nods her head, raising her hand and giving him a thumbs-up.
“Yep, oh look! Condoms. You totally need some. What size are you Liam?”
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