Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I’m scared.
I’m scared of losing feeling in my right hand. I’m scared of losing speech and memory. I’m scared of being dependent on someone else to take care of me. I’m scared of waking up and not feeling like myself anymore. And although I’ve never felt this way before, I’m scared of dying—not because I don’t want to face whatever reckoning awaits me, but because I don’t want to leave this earth yet. For the first time in my life, I’m looking ahead and thinking to myself, I’m not done.
I’m not done living, and I’m not done loving you, Maren Devine. Not by a long shot.
Granted, I’m not much of a catch right now, but I swear to God if you’ll give me that second chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you the happiest woman alive.
You once asked me to let you love me, and I promised I would. Let me keep my promise.
Now, then, always and only yours,
Dallas
I read it over a million times, took a deep breath, and hit send.
Then I closed my laptop, lay back, and prayed she would have it in her heart to forgive me. To accept me. To be mine.
It was going to be a long night.
I was awake for hours—frantically checking my email every five minutes—but eventually fell asleep sometime after three a.m. When I woke up, it was nearly eight, and I quickly looked at my inbox again.
Nothing.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried not to feel like this was a hopeless cause. But my head was pounding, my stomach was upset, and I had a horrible stiff neck from the awkward way I’d slept. Dragging myself out of bed, I followed the smell of coffee downstairs.
“Morning,” Bree said cheerfully, pulling clean plates from the dishwasher. “How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” I admitted.
She gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. Can I get you some coffee?”
“I can get it.” I took a cup from the cupboard and filled it with coffee from the pot. “Finn at work already?”
“Yes. He went in early today, and he said he’ll be late tonight. But he’s taking off tomorrow and a few days next week.”
That was because of me, and I felt guilty about it as I sat down on a stool at the island. “I wish I didn’t have to inconvenience you guys.”
“You’re not an inconvenience, Dallas.” She gave me a look. “You’re family. This is what we do for each other.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate everything.”
“You’re welcome.” She paused in her work and sipped from a mug on the counter that said There is a good chance this is vodka on it. “Finn told me you guys had a nice time in Portland.”
“We did.”
“I’m really glad. I think it really bothered him, more than he realized, that you two didn’t have a very close relationship. It bothered me, that’s for sure. I was always on him to do something about it, but he was just so darn stubborn.”
I gave her a half-grin. “Runs in the family.”
She laughed. “True. Anyway, I’m so happy about it. I’ve always been so close to my sisters, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without them.”
Her comment got me thinking about something. Maren was close to both her sisters. If I didn’t hear back from her by this afternoon, could I reach out to one of them?
“So what are your plans for today?” Bree asked.
“Uh, not sure, exactly.” Stalking my ex-girlfriend’s sisters seemed like a bad answer.
“Just let me know if there’s anything you need or if you want to go somewhere. I’m happy to take you. And is there anything special you want for your last … for dinner?” She caught herself, but I could see the slip had made her uncomfortable.
I wanted to put her at ease. “You know what was really fun? The night last week when we grilled hamburgers and hot dogs and hung out by the pool.”
She smiled, relieved. “Pool party it is!”
I drank some coffee, ate the toast Bree insisted on making for me, and checked my email again—nothing from Maren. After a quick shower, I unpacked my suitcase, putting clothes in dresser drawers and hanging a few things in the closet, although I hadn’t brought very much. When the kids got up, they wanted me to swim with them, so after checking my inbox one more time—nothing—I put on my suit, and followed them out to the pool.
“Hey, Oly, can I use your sunscreen?” I asked, spying some Coppertone near her pink unicorn towel.
“Sure,” my niece said, watching as I gently put some on my new tattoo, which had healed nicely. “Why do you have to do that?”
“To protect it.”
She looked closer. “What does Maren mean?”
Everything, I thought. “Maren is a name. She’s a friend of mine.”