I nod, trying to smile, but I’m too emotionally drained. “Thank you,” I croak.
“You can rent a room here,” Ford says. “I don’t mind having you around and dad is buying another house so it’ll just be us.”
“Thanks, Ford.”
“And I have a car I fixed up that I don’t need,” Landon pipes up. “It’s yours.”
Tears burn under my eyelids. “Why are you all doing this?”
“Because you’re family,” my father says. “And we love you.”
I choke on a sob and hold onto Penny, pressing my nose to her cheek and inhaling.
“Unfortunately, we have some bad news.”
I lift my head and see my father has a yellow envelope in his hands.
“What’s that?”
“It’s divorce papers, Katia.”
My entire world stops spinning and my ears begin to ring. He sent me divorce papers, like he said he would. I never thought, not even for a second, that it would burn the way it is. I swallow back my tears and stand, gripping the papers to my side and balancing Penny on my other one.
“Thank you all for your kindness. I’m just going to take a walk.”
“Katia,” Candy tries.
“Honey,” Dusty adds.
I force a smile. “I’m fine. This is what I wanted.”
I turn and walk out, carrying Penny down to the barn. I sit down and let her scramble off my lap towards a butterfly fluttering over a flower. I stare down at the papers, my heart aching. This is what I wanted. It’s for the best. It’s the only way. I close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.
Then I open it.
Seeing Marcus’s signature on the papers hurts. It hurts a lot.
“Are you okay?”
I look up to see Candy. She kneels down beside me.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
“I know how hard it must be, regardless of everything.”
“I still love him, Candy. Even through my rage and betrayal, it burns so brightly. I didn’t realize it at first but now...I know this is for the best, but it hurts . . .”
“You’re only human, honey,” she soothes. “It’s allowed to hurt.”
I force a smile. “Yeah.”
“I wanted to ask . . .”
I look over to her. “Yeah?”
“Before you sign those, are you going to see if you’re entitled to anything?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“For Penny’s sake, don’t you think you should work out something? It’s only fair.”
“I became a bad person for a while there,” I say, watching Penny giggling over the butterfly still. “I don’t know if I deserve anything.”
“You both did bad things, but in the end it’s fair for you to get something.”
“Maybe.”
“And Penny, are you going to tell him about her?”
“Yes, I think I have to.”
She nods. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Maybe,” I whisper. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
She sits down, pulling me close. “Trust me honey, you are.”
~*~*~*~
KATIA
She won’t stop coughing.
It’s been going on for five days.
“I’m taking her to the hospital,” I say to my father as I rush down the stairs, Penny in my arms. “Her fever has spiked.”
“I’ll drive you,” he says.
Penny has been sick for five days, this one being the morning of the sixth. It started with a cough that got worse. I took her to the doctor, but they said it was just a virus and to give her painkillers and rest. After three days, it wasn’t better and she started getting fevers. She stopped eating, stopped drinking, and I knew that it couldn’t go on.
I took her to the hospital. They sent her home with antibiotics, telling me it was just a cough.
It’s not better, and I can’t take it anymore, so I’m taking her back.
I bundle her into the car and watch as my father gets in the front, starting it. I tuck Penny to my chest, not wanting to part with her. I can hear her chest rattling with each breath and I could swear her lips are tinged blue. Panic seizes me and I look towards my dad.
“I think she’s going blue.”
He stares down at her frantically. “Put her upright a little. We’re nearly there.”
I do as he says, tipping her up slightly. She’s extra drowsy, not whining or complaining. She’s been crying for a few days, but now she’s just floppy. “Hurry,” I cry. “Please.”
We practically speed to the hospital and when we arrive, I rush out of the car and straight into the ER department. A nurse comes over as soon as she catches sight of Penny and I.
“What’s happening?”
“She’s been sick for days, but her breathing has gotten worse, her temperature spiked and I think she’s going blue,” I cry, tears pricking my eyelids.
“Bring her this way.”
We rush down the hall until we reach a room. The nurse instructs me to put her on the bed while she pages a doctor. A moment later, an older doctor comes in, staring down at my daughter.
“Talk to me about what’s been happening?” he asks as he starts examining her.
“She had a cough,” I whisper. My dad squeezes my shoulder. “It got worse. I took her to the doctor and they told me it was just a virus. A few days later she had fevers and the cough was thick and mucusy. I brought her here and we were sent home with antibiotics. Today her fever spiked again and she started looking like this.”