Page 119 of From Us, Forever

“Fine,” he said, hanging up.

“Who was that?” I arched a brow.

He sighed. “The cops need a statement. They’ll be here in ten. Do you think that’s something you can handle, or do you want me to push it off till later?”

I swallowed, caught off guard. “I think I can. I just want to be done with all this.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Now it looks like we both have to go downstairs.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get to win this once. No more walking up and down the stairs, Jay. It’s only going to cause unnecessary strain that might rip out your stitches.” I gave him the lecture as we slowly descended the stairs.

“You should also add in a nurse costume while you’re at it.” He waved a hand at me. “It would complete the whole look.”

“Mentally ignoring you,” I commented, not looking back as I walked ahead to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I retrieved the pitcher of creamy strawberry agua fresca I had made for him earlier and poured a large glass.

“Drink this.” I pushed the glass toward him just as he arrived.

“Thanks.” He smiled, leaning against the counter as he chugged it in one go. “Fuck, this is good. Can I have more?”

“Nope.” I shook my head, dropping the glass in the sink. “You need to eat healthy till you recover.”

He groaned. “When did you become the diet police?”

Before I could respond, a throat cleared behind us.

Tyler walked in sporting his usual cool expression, escorting two men in suits who introduced themselves as Detective Simon and Ronald.

Soon, they took detailed statements from both of us and were very kind and considerate, unlike the rude detectives who once interviewed me back in LA.

It was well over an hour later when they left, and I was exhausted from the questioning and reliving all that happened.

But lightness filled my blood, knowing it was all over this time, and we didn’t even have to go to court. Dennis was going away for good, and this wouldn’t affect us anymore.

“Do you want to know about her?” Jay asked a moment later.

We were on the couch still in the same spot as we watched the fluffy clouds drift by outside. “Silas sent me a file on everything, so if you wish to know, you can.”

My pulse ticked; I knew exactly who he was asking about—my mother. “Dennis said I looked just like her,” I whispered, swallowing. “I think I want to.”

He nodded, pulled out his iPad from the coffee table, and fiddled with it before handing it to me.

My trembling fingers took it from him while my eyes landed on my mirror image staring back at me. Dennis wasn’t lying for once, from her brown hair to her eyes—she looked just like me, only more weary, bony, and sick.

“Her name was Meera,” Jay added, sympathy crossing his face. “She was, umm, a…”

“A prostitute and a drug addict?” I laughed dryly. “Yeah, I think I got that memo. No wonder Grandma hated her.”

“We still don’t know who your father is. She married David when you were six, so I think it’s unlikely we’ll know.”

I took one last look at her before I handed it back to him.

“I don’t want to know. I think I’m fine without knowing that. And you know what?” I smiled, scooting closer as I circled my arms around him. “She may look like me, but she’s nothing like me. All I see is a lost woman who couldn’t appreciate life. I’m not that. I can never be like that.”

“Yes, you aren’t.” He dropped a quick kiss on my nose.

I sighed, cuddling closer to him. “Wait.” I looked up at him, scrunching my nose. “How the hell did Dennis end up working for Dorian?”

He sighed. “Dorian used to be his father’s biggest client—owed him a favor and took him after David committed suicide.”

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