Hate Mail — An Arranged Marriage Romance (Paper Cuts #1) by Winter Renshaw

Author:Winter Renshaw [Renshaw, Winter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

.

Slade—

Haven’t heard from you in a while. Just checking to make sure you’re still alive and that I’m not a pre-widow.

Campbell (age 22)

Campbell—

If I died, you’d know because my parents would nationally televise my funeral on every network they own.

Sorry to disappoint you.

Slade (age 23)

20

Slade

“Maybe you should slow down on those.” I move for Oliver’s tumbler and the near-empty bottle of Macallan and slide them out of his reach.

Mom took her last breath six hours ago. She passed warm in her bed, myself, Oliver, and my father at her side, just like she wanted. In May, the doctors told us we’d be lucky if she made it to June. In June, they told us it was a miracle she’d made it that far. When July rolled around, we were quietly hopeful that she might make it long enough to get to witness the wedding. Deep down, we all knew that’s what she was holding on for. She might have lost her battle, but she put up one hell of a fight.

Somewhere in the depths of this never-ending home, my father is processing his loss alone. He’s never been one to show emotions in front of others. Looking weak isn’t the Delacorte way, he’s always told me.

Oliver copes by drinking until he can’t feel his face—or his feelings.

I’m numb. I imagine everything will hit me when I least expect it, but for now, someone’s got to hold this family together.

I sat by Mom’s bedside while the home nurses came in and did their thing, and then I locked myself in my father’s study, making all the necessary phone calls. When I came out, Oliver was stumbling around the bar, tears in his eyes, mumbling to himself.

My phone vibrates with call after call. I let them all go to my voicemail, where a freshly recorded greeting gives them the funeral details and directs them to my family’s public relations contact for any comments or questions. My mother wasn’t a celebrity by any means, but as the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the world, her death is going to make headlines.

“It’s bullshit,” Oliver slurs. His eyes are unfocused and I’m certain he’s talking to the universe and not me. “Why her? Couldn’t it have been anyone else?”

He slumps into an oversized leather chair, burying his head in his hands.

Glancing at my phone, I’m tempted to put it in do not disturb mode, but I don’t in case the funeral home calls. I easily could have outsourced this task to someone on my father’s payroll, but I want to personally ensure sure every last detail is exactly how she wanted it. They’re supposed to be sourcing daffodils and working on getting her favorite opera singer to fly in to perform Ave Maria and In Paradisum.

I lie down on the Chesterfield sofa, next to a sobbing Oliver, and close my eyes. I keep expecting something to wash over me, a flood of grief, but my insides are still a void of nothingness.

“You

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.