He Was Reborn to Claim Me, But I'm Already Married novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: The Twelfth Painting

Romy pushed the newspaper into my hands before I had the door fully open.

The headline ran across the top of the Metro section.

"Prescott Heir Gives Up Brookline Estate."

"He sold it," Romy said, out of breath. "All of it. The house, the gardens, the sixty easels. It's going to be a free art school for the neighborhood."

"Leighton did?"

"Leighton did. And the Foundation, which is run by the silver mustache now, voted unanimously to take the money." She jabbed the page. "Read the last paragraph."

I read it.

Leighton had given one statement to the reporters, three lines long.

He thanked the Foundation for its patience.

He apologized by name to Jocelyn Winslow, Audra Sturgis and Ethan Sturgis.

He said he was leaving Boston to learn how to be a person who listens.

Ethan read it over my shoulder.

"That's a good sentence," he said grudgingly.

"It's a start."

"Are you going to answer him?"

I looked at the paper for a long time.

"No," I said.

I folded it and put it in the recycling.

I did not feel anything I could have named, except a door being shut that I had held open for two lives.

The wedding was on the third Saturday of August, in a walled garden in Montreal.

There were twenty guests and a row of folding chairs.

My parents sat in the front row.

My mother wore a hat the size of a dinner plate, and my father held the program upside down.

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