Page 61 of For Lila, Forever

“—Lila was the best thing that ever happened to me,” I say.

“You ungrateful prick,” he spits at me. “I give you the world and it’s not good enough, eh?”

I know what he’s doing. He’s deflecting and distracting, trying to turn this around and make me look like the asshole.

“Well, I’d hate to stand in the way of the rest of your life,” he says, sneering. “So consider yourself relieved from any and all familial ties and obligations you might have to me. First thing in the morning, I’ll get my attorney on the line and have a new will drafted up. I’ll be damned if I give you a damn thing after the way you’ve spoken to me. You have some nerve, boy.”

I smirk.

I don’t need his money.

I don’t need a damn thing from him.

And this might actually be the greatest thing he’s ever given me: freedom.

“I would expect nothing less from you.” I gather my jacket and fling it over my left arm as I head toward the hall.

“Don’t walk away from me, Thayer.” His voice booms from the study, but I keep walking away. “This conversation is far from over.”

That’s where he’s wrong.

I have nothing more to say to the bastard. Not now, not ever.

“Fine,” he yells. He must be a few yards behind me now because his voice is louder and closer than it was a second ago. “Then don’t you dare set foot on this island again. You no longer have a place here.”

I hear it in his voice—panic.

He’s realizing that he’s lost the last bit of control he ever held over me. And he’s also realizing that the cat’s out of the bag now. This secret, this secret that he’s spent probably hundreds of thousands of dollars—if not millions—to hide … has now cost him everything.

If that isn’t justice, I don’t know what is.

I slam the door behind me when I leave, and I make my way to the dock.

Chapter 50

Lila

“Go brush your teeth,” I tell MJ Sunday morning after breakfast. “We’re going to visit Grandpa. And wear a sweatshirt today. It’s going to be chilly.”

MJ carries her cereal bowl to the sink, rinsing it out before skipping upstairs, and I pour myself my second coffee of the day.

Across the room, my phone buzzes, and I head over to grab it off the charger, only I stop when I’m met with a hauntingly familiar 207 area code. For a moment, I think it might be Thayer, but he lives in Manhattan. He wouldn’t have a Maine area code and he never would’ve had one. It has to be Bertram.

Clearing my throat, I glance at the bottom of the stairs to make sure MJ isn’t within earshot.

“Hello?” I keep my voice down.

“Lila,” the voice booms from the other end.

My stomach sinks.

It’s Bertram.

I decide to take the call outside, on the back patio. Given the information that’s recently come to light, nothing good is going to come from this phone call.

I asked Thayer not to say anything.

No, I pleaded with him.

I said it again and again, probably sounding like a crazy person, but I needed him to understand the gravity of the situation without having to divulge all the details.

I pull the sliding glass door open and glide it shut behind me. It’s a cold spring morning, but sunlight dapples across the patio and the breeze makes the new budding leaves on the trees dance.

In a matter of seconds, I know this perfectly beautiful day is going to be demolished.

Damn it, Westley.

The contract forbade Westley and I from communicating these past ten years or else I imagine we’d have been on the same page.

“It has come to my attention that you’re in breach of your contract,” Howard says. “I’m calling to inform you that effective immediately, I will no longer be upholding my end of the agreement. All forms of financial assistance will here on cease to exist and you have twenty-four hours to vacate your home.”

“Twenty-four hours?” There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to pack up a decade worth of our lives and find us a new place to stay in twenty-four hours. I don’t even know if I could do that in a week. All the apartments around here require credit checks, and given the fact that I’ve never so much as had a credit card or car loan to show I’m capable of paying my bills on time, I can’t imagine anyone’s going to let me sign a lease. There might be a few places in town with sketchy landlords desperate to fill empty units, but I refuse to force my daughter to live in a place that literally lets anyone move in.

“Goodbye, Lila. I’ll be sending someone to collect the keys and change the locks first thing in the morning.” With that, Howard ends the call, not that it’s surprising. There’s never any arguing with him, and I know what the contract said.

---