Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
When we finally broke away, a flush had coated Savannah’s smooth cheeks—it was my new favorite color. Her smile faded and she stroked her finger down my jaw. “Your grief does not make you a bad person. The way you process it does not make you weak. I need you to know that.”
“Okay,” I said and held on tightly to her waist. Her sincerity made me want to believe that, so bad.
Savannah stared down at the woman who was still at the bottom of the stairs, her loved one’s picture held tightly to her chest. She was lost in prayer. A place like Varanasi held a spirituality that was almost tangible. Magical, even.
“There is fear in grief,” Savannah suddenly said. I refocused on my girl. “For me, it’s a fear that Poppy didn’t move on to a better place like she believed. Fear that the world is too foreign with her gone. And my biggest fear …” Savannah’s voice wobbled. “My biggest fear is that I somehow become happy without her here.” She turned to meet my eyes. “Because how could I ever be happy again with her gone?”
Savannah swallowed, then pressed her forehead to mine. “But I have found you and you make me so immeasurably happy.” A tear fell down her cheek, passing onto mine like they shared the same track. “I have found happiness with you. Without Poppy being in my life. What I once thought was impossible. It’s making me question everything I ever let myself believe.” She moved back and blinked. “And the worst part is, she would have loved you, and she’ll never get to meet you.”
I hated seeing Savannah cry. It destroyed me. But I felt a little more pain lift in my heart when I thought of Cillian. “Cill would have loved you too,” I whispered, the pain of that like a dagger to the heart.
But the smile that remark inspired in Savannah was like finally seeing the sun after an eternity of darkness.
Savannah wrapped her arms around me and laid her cheek against my chest. I held her right back, even closer when I realized she had drifted to sleep. I thought of the first time I’d met her in the airport. I had felt something for her even then, even through my heavy shield of anger. Some spark of recognition—my soul waking from a long slumbering sleep.
I kissed the top of Savannah’s head as I relayed every part of our trip so far. The Lake District, the endless climbing, the group sessions, the disastrous one-on-ones, but Savannah being there for me through it all, a complete stranger. Norway, the northern lights, the beach, the kiss we’d first shared. And Savannah, day by day, merging her heart with mine. Souls melting until we were one blurred-out form. Holding one another up when the other was falling.
The scent of cherry and almond cut through the smells of sugar and spices. Savannah’s soft hair pressed against my cheek as I laid my head on the top of hers. She moved in my arms and blinked as she took in the lowering sun. “I fell asleep?” she said, tired.
“Just for a while,” I said, and she turned her face to me. “Shall we go back?” Truth was, I could have stayed that way with her forever. Safe in my arms. Safe from harm.
Savannah smiled and nodded.
We returned to the hotel. Night fell and I went to bed. Just as I was about to sleep, my phone lit up with a message.
DAD:
Hope you’re enjoying India, son. Leo said you’re doing well. We love you.
My heart took off in a sprint. I thought back to the ghat this afternoon and my confession to Savannah that I was a bad son. My hands shook as I read that message over and over again until my eyes blurred. At the many unanswered messages they had sent in the numerous weeks that I had been away. They’d never stopped trying. In reality, my parents had never given up on me. I’d pushed them away, taken out my anger on them and made their lives hell. Yet they were still here, trying. Trying so hard for me.
Unlocking my phone, I texted back:
ME:
I love you both too. Miss you.
Dad’s response was immediate.
DAD:
Cael. Son. Thank you for texting back. We want to speak to you more than anything. Hear your voice. But we’ll wait until you’re ready. We’re just so happy you’ve responded. We miss you so much and are so proud of you. Keep going, Cael. We love you. Please keep talking to us.
ME:
I will. I promise. I’m trying, Dad. I love you.
I couldn’t have called them if I wanted to. My throat was thick with emotion, and my dad’s message blurred as I read it repeatedly, tears filling my eyes.
They didn’t hate me. The impact that had on me was total.