Take a Chance (Chance, #1; Rosemary Beach #7)(70)

He said I needed to tell Grant. They were showing pictures of me as a baby in Dad’s arms as he took me from the hospital all those years ago—when the miracle baby had lived. They were talking about how, when his wife was believed dead, he’d forgotten about the child, as did the world.

Pictures of me coming and going from his mansion in L.A. had also surfaced. People who went to school with me were being interviewed. I was now the world’s biggest sob story. My heart condition and my life were being broadcast to the world.

Grant would find out soon. I needed to tell him. I had congenital heart disease and should never have lived. I’d been defying every doctor’s prediction since I started walking at nine months old. My parents had been told I wouldn’t develop as quickly as other children my age.

The fact still remained that my heart was defective. Pregnancy would be impossible for me to handle. I took medication that I kept in my purse with me at all times. I didn’t drink alcohol. I ate healthily. I took care of myself. My grandmama had made sure to do everything she was told to do in order to keep me alive.

I took a deep breath. I had to tell Grant all this. I would be going to L.A. in two weeks to see my cardiologist and have a regular testing. He would tell me how I was, and I would hold my breath until I knew no surgery was needed at this time. I was defying the odds. I intended to keep doing that.

Opening the door, I stepped into the living room. Grant was sitting on the couch with the television remote in his hand as he stared straight ahead. I glanced in horror at the television, but it wasn’t on.

His blue eyes shifted to look at me, and I knew he had been watching it. The knowledge I had kept from him was there in his gaze. Hurt, betrayal, fear—it was all there.

“You know,” I said simply, and walked over to get my skirt, which was now folded and resting on top of a bar stool. I suddenly felt nak*d and exposed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Grant asked, with such raw emotion in his voice I felt like crumpling to the ground and sobbing at the unfairness of it all. I had wanted to be the one to tell him.

“I never tell anyone. I hate being looked at like a broken person who people are afraid to get close to,” I replied, unable to look at him.

“I’m not just anyone, Harlow. You should have told me. You let me get close to you and care about you, yet you kept this huge secret to yourself.” He looked almost dazed. His eyes stared at me and the fear in them was obvious.

“I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how. I was afraid to lose this . . . this thing we have.”

He dropped his head and sat there without speaking. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or if he was scared, too.

“I’m the same person you’ve always known. I just have a condition that has to be monitored. I needed to trust you before I told you about it.”

He lifted his head. Disbelief in his eyes. “Trust me? Trust me? You had to trust me to warn me that falling in love with you might be a dangerous thing to do? Can you see how unfair that is? I was terrified to let myself have feelings for you because I was haunted by the idea of losing you. It controlled me. Then, when I decided to let that go and do what my heart wanted . . .” He shook his head and let out a hard laugh. “All along you were sick and you never told me.”

Sick? I wasn’t sick! “That is the exact reason I don’t tell people. They treat me like I’m sick. I’m not sick. I’ve been sick and I know what that’s like, but I’m not sick now. And you think me not telling you is unfair? You know nothing about fair. There are a lot of things in life that aren’t fair, but protecting myself is fair. Wanting to live life and not be left out of it is not unfair.”

Grant stood up and shook his head. “You can’t just let people get close to you and not trust them with that kind of information. When were you going to tell me? When I fell in love with you? When I told you I loved you, were you going to say ‘Oh, yeah, I may not live for long.’” He paused as pain sliced through his features, and he looked away from me. “Was that your plan?” he asked with a hitch in his voice.

“NO! I was going to tell you now. I didn’t expect you. I didn’t expect this thing between us, but I wanted it. I wanted you.” Tears burned my eyes as I jerked my skirt on and looked around for my shoes. I had to leave. I would face the vultures out there. It was time anyway.

I hated seeing him like this. I hated seeing the fear in his eyes. Maybe I should have told him sooner. Maybe it was selfish of me to keep it a secret from him, but I already knew how things went once someone knew. I never would have known what it was like to have Grant. I didn’t regret that.

“I had been planning on telling you today. I sat in the bath going over how I would tell you. I knew it was time that you knew. I didn’t want you hearing it on television or from someone else.” Tears burned my eyes.

“You lied to me,” he said with his voice devoid of emotion. It was as if he were shutting down inside. It was how he was going to cope. He didn’t intend to fight for us and make this work. He was going to protect himself. That told me what I needed to know. He didn’t have to tell me it was over. I read that loud and clear.

I walked over to my phone and texted Rush.

I need you to come get me. I’m about to walk out into this and deal with them now, and then I’m going home. Please.