Meanwhile, Tilly was reading Pualani a chapter fromMoby Dick—“So she gets used to the sea and excessive metaphors.”
All Leilani could do was giggle… and tip out the bottle that Mrs. Mulroney just poured.
“Our baby’s going to be so weird,” I said, misty-eyed.
“Yeah,” Cal smiled. “In the best possible way.”
Then Rashida appeared beside us, sliding a folder discreetly across the countertop toward Cal.
“Here’s that list you wanted,” she said.
Cal nodded, slipping it quickly under his arm.
I blinked. “What list?”
He looked at me. Then down. Then back up again. “Can we talk?” he asked quietly. “I think we need to talk. Somewhere private.”
I froze for half a second. That sentence—we need to talk—those were the four scariest words in the English language.
“Babe? Is everything okay?”
Cal offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s go sit by the water.”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. He just took the folder, walked to the back door, and stepped out into the early evening light.
I followed, my feet bare and my breath shallow.
The sun was starting to dip behind the palms, turning the ocean silver-gold. Cal led me down the short path, past the swaying hammocks to the lava-rock wall that overlooked the beach.
We climbed up and sat there, side by side. Quiet for a moment.
The tide whispered before us.
The horizon shimmered.
Cal still hadn’t said a word and I didn’t dare speak before I knew what was going on.
Eventually he said, “I’ve been thinking. About a lot of things. About you. Me. The baby.” He took my hand and looked at me. “I want to give it all away.”
I gasped, my heart shattering, my voice panicked. “You what? You’re breaking up with me?”
Suddenlyhisvoice turned to panic. “What? No! No, of course not!”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“My career. My job. My fortune. I’m ready to give it all up. For you. For Pualani. For us!”
My heart stopped twisting in my chest, and I let out a long sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. For a minute there—”
He leaned in and kissed me, stopping my paranoid trail of thought before pulling back and saying, “Matt, I could never leave you. You’re my life. And now so is Pualani. After everything that’s happened—after Hal and all the stupid decisions I made—I know now where I need to be and who I need to be with, every day, every night, every minute of my life. I love you. So much.”
I laughed and forced back tears. “I love you too.”
He held the folder in his lap for a moment, running a thumbalong the edge like it was something precious. Then he opened it, gently, and passed it to me.
Inside were pages—neatly printed, tabbed, color-coded. Rashida’s work, no doubt.
“This list. I asked Rashida to put together a document outlining a number of charities. Foundations. Programs where my money will actually do some good.”
