Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
An hour later, we’re standing inside the funeral home. Family was to arrive an hour early. Baker hesitates with Camden on his hip, as we spot Levi’s family by the two closed caskets and a display of pictures of Natasha and Levi together and separate.
“I’m here,” I whisper, placing my hand on his back.
He peers down at me and nods, before slowly taking a step and then another until we’re standing in front of Levi’s parents. They’re older, and you can see the pain and heartache on their faces.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Baker says, his voice gravelly.
“Thank you,” Levi’s father says. “You’re Baker, right?” he asks. “I’ve watched you play.”
“Yes, sir. This is my”—he clears his throat—“Natasha’s and my son, Camden.”
I watch as shock crosses Levi’s parents' faces. “She had a son?” his mom whispers. “Now, I understand why you were so worried about laying her to rest. I thought it was odd that you were so concerned with our son’s fiancée. I chalked it up to grief, or maybe you still had feelings for her. Now, I understand.”
I feel Baker tense next to me, and I step a little closer. He wraps his free arm around me, gripping my waist tightly as if he needs me to anchor him from his anger. We stand in silence, and I know I need to do something.
“I’m Sloane,” I tell them. “This is Camden. Can you say hi?” I ask him. Camden shies away from them, burrowing into his daddy’s chest. “He’s being bashful,” I say, trying to break the ice.
“How old is he?” Levi’s dad asks.
“He’ll be two next week,” I answer, because Baker is still seething.
“My goodness, they never told us,” his mom breathes, her eyes filling with tears. She shakes her head and gives us a watery smile. “Baker, the flowers you sent were beautiful,” she says, trying to change the subject. I’m certain she can see the anger flowing off him in waves.
“Wh—” Baker starts, but I cut him off.
“It’s the least we could do,” I tell them. “We’re going to go grab a seat.” With that, I turn away from them, Baker keeping his tight hold on both Camden and me as we make our way to the back of the room, allowing the other immediate family members a chance to pay their respects before the public is permitted entrance.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a rush, as Camden reaches for me. I hold out my arms, and he crawls into my lap. I lean into Baker, hoping to offer him some comfort, but it’s hard for me because while I hate that she lost her life, I can’t imagine why Natasha wouldn’t be shouting from the rooftops about her adorable, sweet baby boy. “I sent flowers, too. I wasn’t sure if you did, and I just thought it would be better to send too many than not at all.”
“You sent flowers?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Did you use my card?”
“Yes.”
Camden lays his head on my shoulder, and I’m sure he can feel the tension in the air. Keeping one arm wrapped around Camden, I place the other hand over Baker’s, where it rests on his thigh. He laces our fingers together, and we both seem to relax at the small touch. His hand is warm and calloused, and his grip is firm.
“She didn’t tell them.” His words are so soft, I almost didn’t hear him.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” He shakes his head, turning his hazel eyes my way. “Don’t apologize for her. I’ll never understand. I guess maybe she just didn’t want to be a mom, and that’s okay, but I hate it for him.” He nods toward Camden. “I hate that he’ll never know her.”
“I know this is going to sound really bad,” I say, keeping my voice quiet. “Especially where we are.” I grimace but keep talking. “I’m one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason. Cam will never know her neglect or her choice not to be a part of his life. He’ll never remember that. What he will remember is that his mom passed away in a tragic accident when he was two, and that his dad loved him enough for both of them.”
Baker’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I don’t know how you knew that I needed you today, but I’m so damn thankful that you’re here, Sloane.” He squeezes my hand. “Thank you for being here for me. For him.” He nods to where Cam still rests against my shoulder, content as can be.
“Of course,” I reply, swallowing hard. “I told you, whatever you need.”
He nods and stares down at our joined hands. Surprise has a slight whoosh of air leaving my lungs when he lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. “This is more than you just being here as his nanny.”