Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Emmersyn
“So, this is it?” I ask, my voice wavering between disbelief and relief.
Percival nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Why are you smiling?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Your grandmother was right. He’d do the right thing.”
“Leaving me is the right thing?” I shoot back, feeling the sting of the words.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Taking away your grandmother’s power was the right thing to do.”
I let out a laugh, one that’s more bitter than amused. “Sure, until you show me some other condition or . . .” I trail off, half-expecting another twist.
“I assure you, that was it,” he says, his tone sincere.
I glance at the safe, still trying to process everything. “What else is in the safe?”
“Jewelry, some of your mother’s keepsakes that Trudy saved for later, but I guess later never came,” he replies gently.
“Can you have them delivered to my apartment?” I ask, then groan as I remember my current living situation. “Wait, everything’s in that new place I leased.”
“Problem?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I had already moved my things to another place where I planned to live after the six-month period,” I explain with a sigh. “Maybe I should use this time to paint the walls and remodel it. I’ve been meaning to do that for a couple of years.”
“Why don’t you move to the penthouse?” he suggests.
“The one that’s practically condemned?” I shake my head. “Nah, once it’s fixed, I’m selling it.”
“You can’t possibly sell something that’s been in the family for generations,” he says, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Generations? Is that even a thing? My great-grandfather moved in when it was just built and . . . I guess it was. Still, I say, “It’s time for a new family to take over. I never planned to live there. ”
“She’ll be?—”
“Disappointed?” I snort. “Everything I did disappointed her. I understand why my mother was so adamant on keeping me away from my grandparents outside of family dinners on Saturday and a few holidays. Yet, after she died . . .”
I want to forgive her, to not hate her but right now, I just can’t. “Gertrude ruined what could’ve been a happy life, you know? It wasn’t us being immature or not ready for love. It was her really wanting to cause damage if we didn’t do what she said.”
“She regretted it,” he says quietly.
I shrug, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “Anyway, send this to my temporary apartment. Thanks for . . . whatever.”