Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Hi,” I say with my heart in my throat. Every emotion I avoided feeling about her so I could heal is bursting to the surface tenfold.
I thought if things went south, I could die alone. But I’m no longer dying (I truly believe it), and I don’t want to live alone. I can’t live without her. Without our little girl.
Amelia takes the first step, but her shaky legs falter, and she lowers to her bottom, one hand still holding the railing.
As much as I want to run up the stairs and wrap her in my arms, I can’t hurry this moment. I don’t want to hurry another moment for the rest of my life. A life I hope is long and filled with meaningful moments. When I reach her, I kneel on the step below her feet.
She covers her face with both hands and sobs. I surrender to the moment and let my tears free while I pull her into my arms. She hugs me so tightly I swear she might shatter my heart and every bit of strength I mustered to come home.
“Y-you’re alive.”
“I’m alive.”
I bury my face in her neck.
“I h-hate you s-so much.” She sobs. “But I love you more.”
My fingers thread through her hair, and I kiss her neck, wet cheeks, and trembling lips. It started the day we met, and I hope I feel it until the day I die—this woman knocking me on my ass two seconds before pressing her lips to mine.
Framing her face, I pull back just enough to look into her red-rimmed eyes.
“Why did you leave us?” she whispers. “Where did you go? Why would you do something so awful to us?”
I rest my forehead against hers. “I felt like it was my only chance at living. And I wanted to live for you and Astrid. But I knew I couldn’t make you understand what I needed.”
She blows out a slow, shaky breath. “I have so many questions.”
“Can they wait?” I stand with her wrapped around my torso, carrying her toward the bedroom.
Her eyes search mine; concern bleeds from them.
I lay her on the bed, her back to my chest, and I just hold her. “I’m not the same man who left. I can never be him again.”
“Who are you?” She strokes my arm.
“I’m the man you ran over on his bike. Vulnerable but strong.”
Amelia turns in my arms to face me, hands on my cheeks. “I told Astrid you went—” She chokes, releasing more tears with a blink. “I told her you went to a special hospital far away. I told her you might have to leave us to be with God,” she whispers. “What am I supposed to tell her now?”
I turn my head just enough to kiss her wrist. “We’ll tell her God wasn’t ready for me.”
Her gaze holds a million unasked questions and disbelief, like she’s looking at a ghost. “Where have you been? And how are you still …” She swallows hard.
Alive.
She wants to know how I’m still alive.
“I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. And I knew you needed answers that I didn’t have yet. I needed space that I knew you couldn’t give me. And I didn’t blame you because had it been you, I would have wanted to hold you in my arms and never let you go. So I went to New York to stay with Rob. I knew he’d give me space. I also knew he’d contact you if things got too dire.”
She sniffles. “Did you see a new doctor?”
I shake my head.
Her brow wrinkles. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Does everything in life have to make sense?”
She frowns. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t give you enough. I was just so scared.”
“No, baby. You gave me too much. You loved me too much. And I needed to be alone. Then I needed to be with people who weren’t afraid to let me die so I could have a real chance to live.” I slide my leg between hers, needing to be as close to her as possible. “Promise you’ll never stop loving me like that.”
“Promise you’ll never leave us again.”
Ouch.
Can I promise that? Can I live (or die) with the consequences of that kind of promise?
She’s not looking at the man who left with nothing more than a note. I’ve changed, so I can do this. I will do this.
“I promise,” I whisper.
Her fingers unbutton my jeans. “Can we do this?” Her gaze slides up my body.
I grin. “Let’s find out.”
She returns a shaky smile. Face red. Eyes swollen. My wife has never been more beautiful.
“Who else thinks I’m dead?” I ask while we wait in the pick-up line outside of Astrid’s school.
Amelia taps the steering wheel. “Nobody thinks you're dead. They think you’re at an expensive hospital getting treatment, and I’m a terrible wife who’s not there with you because we agreed not to interrupt Astrid’s life.” She glances over at me and frowns. “You should call your parents. They know you ran away.”