I twist my head to the side. “I can’t ask any more of you, Audrey, and I know you keep deflecting this conversation, but you need to return to Boston. I’m not letting you throw years of studying away because of me.”
Alex had to leave, to return to Boston, a few days after the funeral because he got a huge opportunity to help coach at the New England Patriots summer youth camp. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be around top coaches and players. It might open the door to a college job or an entry-level job in the pros. He was going to pull out so he could stay here with his wife and support me, but I can’t expect my friends to give up their careers for me. I told him I’d never speak to him again if he passed on the chance, so he left a few weeks ago.
“I’m good for another week or two.” She shrugs casually, as if it’s not a big deal. I have no idea how she made it work, but she got extended leave on compassionate grounds. However, she can’t stay here indefinitely, and I need to learn to cope on my own. She wets her lips and sits up a little straighter. “I will feel better about going once you talk to the therapist, and I think you should talk to your doctor about anti-anxiety and depression meds. They will help.”
“It’s not that bad,” I lie. “I just need time.”
* * *
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Audrey hisses the next morning as we get out of the car in the underground parking garage attached to the attorneys’ offices.
“Who?” I spin around, and my mouth hangs open as Dillon and Ash walk toward us. He’s wearing his signature black tee and ripped jeans with sneakers, and I wonder if he just buys the same clothing in multiple quantities.
“Hey.” Ash steps forward, yanking me into a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I rejoice when I can get out of bed in the morning,” I truthfully admit, and she squeezes my hand. She looks very sophisticated in a gorgeous cream pants suit, looking like she’s ready for a professional meeting. Unlike her rock star brother. “What’s he doing here?” I ask, jerking my head in Dillon’s direction.
“I’m right here, Hollywood. You don’t have to keep pretending like I don’t exist.” I ignore that little dig and avoid looking at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Carson Park told us to be here,” Ash explains after a few beats of awkward silence. “He said Dil is named in the will.”
My eyes almost fly out of my eye sockets in shock. “What?” I splutter. Audrey and I exchange startled expressions.
“That’s all we know.” Ash tentatively smiles at Audrey. “Hey, Rey. Sorry I didn’t get to speak to you at the funeral.”
Tension lingers in the air. Ash and Audrey have a checkered history. They were bosom buddies at the start until they both took sides in the Dillon versus Reeve situation. I know Ash reached out to Audrey after I returned to L.A. from Dublin, when I was ghosting her, and Audrey ghosted her too, so I’m not surprised things are a little strained, even if Ash must know why by now.
Audrey surprises me, leaning in to hug my other bestie. “It’s good to see you. The three of us need to catch up.”
“I would really like that,” Ash says, looking relieved.
“We should head inside,” I say before Audrey sets a date and Dillon decides to invite himself. He’s been calling and texting, and I’ve been ignoring him. I know I can’t continue to do it forever, but I cannot deal with him right now. I’m doing my best to put one foot in front of the other, and I’m trying to help Easton process his feelings. I don’t have time to worry about Dillon’s hurt ones.
“We need to talk,” Dillon says when we’re all trapped within the close confines of the elevator taking us up to Carson Park’s office.
“Not now,” I snap, staring straight ahead.
He repositions himself so he’s directly in front of me, and I have no choice but to look at his face. “When then? You’re ignoring my calls and texts.”
“Because you’re harassing me,” I hiss, and Audrey and Ash turn around.
“I’m not harassing her,” Dillon says, eyeballing both women. “I’ve messaged her and phoned her a handful of times in the past week because we need to talk about Easton.”
“Not now we don’t,” Ash says, drilling her brother with a warning look. “You never learn,” she adds, shaking her head.
The doors ping open, and I push past Dillon, walking into the reception area.
Carson’s secretary escorts us to a small conference room where the Lancasters’ attorney is already waiting for us. My parents’ comforting faces greet me from the wall-mounted screen. Introductions are made, and then Carson gets down to business. “As I mentioned on the phone last week, Vivien, we had a small reading of a part of the will a couple of weeks ago. Reeve made several donations to charities, and I met with representatives of those bodies to explain the terms.”
I nod because this isn’t news or surprising. Reeve left a sizeable sum to Strong Together, as well as a number of other charities he had affiliations with.
“Today, I’d like to discuss the terms of the personal aspects of the will.”
I listen dejectedly as Carson confirms Reeve left the bulk of his estate to me. I have my first meltdown when he mentions Reeve has set up trust funds for the kids. Of course, I knew there was one for Easton, but I didn’t know he’d created one for Lainey too. He also left them personal items. Lainey’s will revert to me. I wish I had known before the funeral because I would have had them buried with her.
Carson stops talking while I sob against Audrey’s shoulder, and Mom swipes at the tears streaming down her face. After a few minutes, I manage to compose myself, and the attorney continues. I purposely avoid looking at Dillon across the table, staring at the glossy walnut tabletop, wishing I could press the fast-forward button because I don’t know if I can survive this.
Reeve left a few personal items to Easton too. The golf watch I’ve already gifted him is one of them, and I burst into tears again as another wave of grief washes over me. We knew each other inside and out, and our thoughts were often in sync. Our connection is so intimate it even transcends life and death, and I’m missing him so acutely right now. What I wouldn’t give to feel his comforting arms around me or to hear his quietly uttered assurances.