Page 91 of My Destiny

“I can sort that out for you.”

“You’re sweet,” she says, resting her palm on the side of my face, “but I can handle it.” I smile, humouring her, but there’s no way I’m letting her clean that place up. I’ll hire someone to do it. She may not have the money for something like that, but I do.

“By the way, shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m bored,” she says, shrugging. “I don’t know how anyone could stand to be bedridden. It would drive me insane.”

“How about I set you up in the lounge room so you can watch a movie?”

“I’d much rather go for a run.”

I sigh, running my free hand through my hair. I’ve been waiting for her to bring that up. “The doctor said you need to rest for the next few days.”

“But it’s been weeks since I’ve been able to run outside.”

“And a few more days won’t hurt.” I chuckle when she pouts. Tilting my face forward, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. “I know things have been tough for you,” I say, drawing back and tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “But all that’s behind us now. Jake’s no longer a threat, and you’re free to go wherever you want once you’ve healed.”

My words were supposed to lift her spirits, but when I see sadness wash over her at the mere mention of his name, I could kick myself.

“I saw his obituary in the paper this morning.” She bows her head, and I’m conflicted by how that makes me feel. I understand she’d be sad—hewasher husband once—but I also can’t get past how he treated her. “His funeral is on Friday.”

“And you want to attend?” She shrugs, as tears fill her eyes. “Babe,” I say, tightening my grip around her waist. “If attending his funeral is what you need, then go. Personally, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t want his family to think badly of me for not attending. They’re good people and have always been kind to me.”

“He tried to kill you twice,” I say, struggling to keep my annoyance at bay. “Under the circumstances, I think they’ll understand.”

“I know.” She turns her face away from me, wiping the tears leaking from her eyes with the back of her hand. “I want them to know that despite everything, I’m sorry for their loss. His death would’ve hit them hard.”

“I understand that,” I say, placing my forefinger under her chin and bringing her gaze back to me. “Call them, send them a card, or write them a letter if you have to, but I don’t think attending the funeral would be in your best interest, or theirs.” Who knows how his family feel about Brooke now. None of this is her fault, but grief can sometimes bring out the worst in people.

“So, you think it’s best if I don’t go.”

“I can only advise you. At the end of the day, it’s a decision only you can make. Under the circumstances, I personally couldn’t attend, but if you want to, I’ll organise someone to go with you so you’re not alone.”

“Thank you, but I think you’re right. I’m not sure I’m up to it, to be honest.”

“I agree.” I place a kiss on the side of her forehead. “You know I’d support you one hundred percent if I thought you’d benefit from being there. But it’s my job to look after you, and I think you’ve been through enough.”

She slides her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m so glad I have you in my life.”

“Ditto.”

“It’s nice to have someone who actually cares.”

“And that will never change,” I say, standing and bringing her with me.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, as I head towards the doorway.

“I’m going to get you set up in front of the TV. The quicker I get through my workload, the quicker I can join you.”

“I can walk you know.”

“I know.” But I don’t put her down until we reach the sofa. Once she’s seated, I grab the remote to turn on the television. “Jill,” I call out.

“Yes, Mr. Cavanagh?” she answers as she enters the great room.

“Can you get Brooke a blanket and pillow?”