Sunday Morning (Sunday Morning #1) Read Online Jewel E. Ann

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Sunday Morning Series by Jewel E. Ann
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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His lips moved. It was subtle, overlooked by everyone else, but I saw it.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

I pulled a tissue from the wad in my hand and wiped a few tears. Isaac declared his love to me at my best friend’s funeral. I didn’t know if it made me love him more or hate him forever because it squeezed more blood from my heart.

“I wanted to tell you how Heather and I met, but I don’t remember. I also don’t recall meeting my mom or dad. They’ve just always been there like Heather has always been there. According to our moms, we met in the nursery at Sunday school. We took our first steps together at a summer potluck behind this church. First words. First swimming lessons. First day of school. I shared more firsts with Heather than with my own sisters.” I wiped a few tears, proud of myself for keeping it together.

“We braided each other’s hair and finished each other’s sentences. And when I broke my leg and couldn’t go to the State Fair, she said she’d carry me.” I laughed through my tears.

“I was too heavy; after all, we were only twelve. So Heather said she’d experience it for both of us and tell me all about it; and someday, if she couldn’t go someplace, I would return the favor.” I peered at the ceiling, looking for something—maybe strength.

“We planned our weddings when we were fifteen. She wanted to get married on a beach in Hawaii, and I wanted to get married at Graceland Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas, but I made her promise not to tell my dad.”

The congregation laughed, and I knew Heather would be proud. She thought everyone should find a moment of laughter at funerals.

I eyed my dad, and he, too, had a smile on his face.

“Heather was always a little better at everything than I was, but she never made me feel less than her. She was the most inspir—” I choked on my words as everything blurred behind my tears. Wiping my eyes, I drew in a big breath and let it out slowly as the sanctuary filled with sniffles and soft sobs. “She was the most inspiring best friend anyone could have. And she was—” Again, I had to swallow past the lump in my throat as I pressed my lips together to fight for just a little more composure to finish. “She was m-mine,” I whispered, tasting the salty tears on my lips.

“So it’s okay that I don’t remember the day we met,” I stared at the casket, “because I don’t want to imagine a time without her.” My voice cracked along with my heart. “Heather, I’ll carry you,” I said softly, not caring if anyone else heard me. “I’ll carry you w-with me. We’ll l-live one life t-together. And I can’t wait to t-tell you all about it.” My knees shook, and the pain made me feel like I might pass out.

Everything hurt. All I wanted to do was find the nearest phone and call Heather to tell her about my nightmare and make her promise never to leave me. She’d laugh and tell me about some dream she had that was even more disturbing. That’s what best friends did; they held hands and walked each other through life, sharing every moment of laughter and every single tear. Nashville with Isaac wasn’t real because nothing was real until I told Heather.

Nothing would ever feel real again. I knew I’d spend the rest of my life stealing happy moments, and they would all come with an asterisk.

I took a step toward the stairs and saw Heather’s mom collapsing to the side, falling apart in her husband’s arms, and I couldn’t take another step.

My gaze shot around the room as panic crushed my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. My dad rested his hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t need a reassuring hand. I knew he wanted me to pull it together and take a seat, but I. Couldn’t. Move.

“Sarah,” he leaned over and whispered in my ear as I buckled at the waist. “Sit by your mom, honey? Can you do that?”

I shook my head, and a sob ripped from my chest. Hundreds of people watched me, but I felt terrifyingly alone.

I can’t catch my breath. I can’t catch my breath …

My mind screamed, but I couldn't speak.

Someone picked me up, and at first, I thought it must have been my dad. When I looked up, the blurry face before me was Isaac’s. He carried me down the aisle by the windows and out the front of the church.

He carried me past the parking lot, across the road, and into the sunflower field. The giant stalks engulfed us like the corn mazes where the young kids in Devil’s Head loved to play hide-and-seek. He walked and walked. I didn’t know if he found the perfect spot or just tired of carrying me, but he lowered us to the ground with me cocooned between his bent knees and protective arms.


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