Marry Screw Kill(82)

“Wait, you are giving me three hundred thousand dollars? Like, today?” I turn to Sin and he nods, a soft smile on his handsome face. Now my tears are not from pain of Andrea’s words, more from overwhelming disbelief.

“Sin, this means I can afford college.” He gets up out of the chair and brings me to my feet. I collapse in his arms as he embraces me.

“It does. Yes, it does,” he says in the sweetest voice, while holding me tight. “Maybe even to a school in say, New York City.”





Chapter Thirty-Two


Sin



Harlow and I are having lunch with Margaret at a restaurant in downtown Park Ridge. Nothing too fancy; I’m saving that for tonight with Harlow. I leave for New York in the morning, so I made reservations for the restaurant on the ninety-fifth floor of the John Hancock building. I bought her a sexy red dress yesterday for her to wear tonight and lick my lips remembering how f*cking awesome it falls over her curves.

I start med school in five days. I need to get back home to prep and inspect my apartment. Bentley swears the place looks like he never lived there. Hell, it doesn’t matter if he trashed every room. He helped me when I needed him, so he gets a free pass for life. Though, I’ll keep that fact to myself.

Harlow has been forcing a smile all day and she can’t seem to sit still, which usually means she’s nervous, or worried—maybe both. I can’t seem to stop her from fearing we will never see each other again, but I’m going to try.

My goal today is convincing her I’m hers for as long as she’ll have me. I’ve moved from the “in like” stage to the other “L” word and it doesn’t scare me one damn bit.

Henry, my wise doorman, nailed it when he told me I’d know when I was in love. I’m not afraid of a commitment with Harlow, because the thought of living without her in my life terrifies me. I’m addicted to her smile and touch. She’s my fix.

“What do you all have planned for the rest of the day?” Margaret asks as I pay our bill.

“Sin and I are going to pick up my new car.” Harlow’s eyes light up in total joy. “Can you tell I’m excited?”

We all laugh. “You deserve it, honey,” Margaret says with a kind smile.

“She deserved something fancier,” I say, putting in my two cents on the topic.

“All I needed was something reliable.”

I wanted her driving in a more luxurious vehicle, or at least one with leather seats and a GPS. But Harlow wouldn’t hear of spending money on it or letting me help her. I backed off and let her take ownership of the decision. She ended up buying a used Chevy Malibu with sixty thousand miles in her favorite color, blue.

“If it breaks down, I’m buying you something else.” She opens her mouth and closes it. She wants to protest, but I wink and she shakes her head, grinning.

***

Harlow is driving behind me in her new Malibu. She had tears rolling down her smiling face when the salesman handed her the keys. I’m very thankful her birth father’s estate gave her the money without question. Thomas’ widow could’ve denied the disbursement without proper proof, but in the end, she did right by Harlow, the innocent victim of a selfish man.

Margaret has been the nurturing force Harlow needs in her life, filling the gaping hole in her heart caused by her mother’s death. Her grandmother insisted Harlow see a therapist the week we arrived, and Harlow agreed.

So, for the last few weeks, Harlow has gone almost daily to counseling sessions. I’m joining her session today, as I did one last week. Becca, her therapist, calls it couple’s therapy. I call it making Harlow whole.

We arrive at the office, not too far from Park Ridge, and Becca comes out to greet us in the reception area. “Harlow and Sin.” She has a serene smile on her face. The woman exudes peace, a perfectly matched choice for Harlow. “How are you two today?”

“Well, Sin leaves tomorrow for New York, so you can imagine how I feel.” Harlow frowns and her shoulders drop with a sigh. It breaks me to see her sad. I know it’s temporary, but I hate to leave her—hell, I’m going to be lost without her.

“We’ll talk about it and your plans today.” Becca leads us to her office, which has a wall of windows with streaming sunlight. The room fits her disposition, warm and inviting.

Harlow and I sit together on a leather couch. Becca finds a spot in a covered chair across from us.

“Thanks for coming, Sin. It’s good we are meeting together one more time before you head back for school.” Becca looks down, referring to the notes on her legal pad. “Last week we talked about Harlow’s move to New York this fall and trying to locate a college in the city, how are those going?”

“Well, I have applied to Brooklyn College for classes starting in January. They have a rolling admission and also a creative writing degree. But I can take classes as a non-degree student this fall. Those classes will transfer to my degree, if I am accepted.”

“So, you are thinking about moving there this fall,” Becca restates, while writing notes on her pad.

“I am.” Harlow fidgets in her seat. Nerves.

“How do you feel about it? New York is a far cry from Rochester and even Chicago. How do you feel about New York?” Becca leans forward, waiting for Harlow’s reply.