Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Was she…sick?”
Grant kept staring out at the turbulent sky. He shook his head.
My eyes widened. “What happened? An accident of some sort?”
A tear rolled down his cheek as he gave the slightest nod.
I wrapped my arms around him and hugged as tight as I could. “I’m so, so sorry. So very sorry.” Grant’s pain was palpable, and my own tears started to flow.
I have no idea how long we stayed like that, clinging to each other, but it felt like hours. So many questions swirled around in my head. What kind of accident was she in? Why didn’t you tell me until now? Is that why you spent the last seven years keeping women at a distance? Have you been to therapy? Did she look like you? But obviously the subject wasn’t an easy one for him to talk about. So I needed to let him decide what he was ready to share.
At one point, someone yelled hello to Grant from the dock, and he raised a hand to wave. I took the opportunity to sit up and look at him.
“Do you…want to talk about it? I’d love to hear all about her.”
Grant looked me in the eyes. “Not today.”
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. “I understand. And I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
The first raindrops started to fall a few minutes later, so we went inside. Grant looked exhausted, so I led him back downstairs to the bedroom, and we got back into bed. He wrapped me in his arms, spooning me from behind and gripping me so tightly it bordered on painful. But it didn’t matter. If holding me gave him even one ounce of comfort, I’d let him crush me. At some point, I felt his grip loosen, and the sound of his breathing slowed. He’d fallen back asleep. Though I couldn’t. There was way too much to go over in my mind.
Grant had a daughter.
Who would have been seven today.
Her name was Leilani, and she had a boat named after her.
And Grant lived on this boat—seeing his little girl’s name in big bold letters every single day when he came home.
My aunt used to say grief was a lot like swimming in the ocean. On the good days, we could float on top with our heads above water, feeling the sunshine on our faces. But on the bad days, the water grew violent, and it was difficult not to get sucked under and drown. The only thing we could do was learn to be stronger swimmers.
But I knew there was another way to keep afloat—find a life raft. I’d been young when I lost my mother so tragically, and my aunt had become just that for me. I didn’t know if Grant had a life raft, but I felt like maybe, just maybe, everything happens for a reason, and I was here to pay it forward and be that for him.
Chapter 28
* * *
Grant - 7 years ago
All good things must come to an end.
Whoever coined that phrase must’ve been a goddamned genius. I was an idiot for thinking the normalcy that lasted while Lily was pregnant would continue. It had hung on a little while after she gave birth, and two months ago, we’d left the hospital practically floating. In the weeks that followed, though, things started to break down a little bit each day. Lily had trouble sleeping and was irritable. But we had a newborn, and after I went back to work, she did most of the getting up at night. So who wouldn’t be tired and cranky?
At six weeks, we went to her postpartum checkup. When the doctor asked about mood swings and depression, I mentioned the changes in Lily, since she’d answered that everything was great. But Dr. Larson only patted my hand and told me an adjustment period was normal. Lily’s hormones were going back to normal, she had the stress of new motherhood, and Leilani seemed to have her days and nights mixed up. I left feeling hopeful that I’d been overly concerned.
Things started to go downhill pretty steeply the next few weeks. Lily became almost paranoid that something bad was going to happen to the baby. She didn’t even want the nurse to hold Leilani at her two-month checkup, claiming she wasn’t supporting her head enough. Everyone seemed to chalk the behavior up to motherly instincts—a hyper-protectiveness that stemmed from her trying to be the best mother she could. Again…it made sense.
But in the last week, everything had begun to unravel. Lily couldn’t sleep—like, at all. She was physically exhausted, yet barely allowed me to touch the baby. She claimed Leilani liked things a certain way, and I wasn’t doing it right. But I had the feeling she didn’t trust me around my own child. Her paranoia seemed to spread wider and deeper each day, and we argued about it. In fact, lately it seemed like all we did was argue.