Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Normally, I’d be up before Molly began to stir in bed, yet lately she was up and moving around hours before I even considered asking for assistance to leave the bedroom. My pride was shattered, and my manhood felt as if it were being ripped away from me. It was as if everyone in the world were still strong except for me. I felt embarrassed and ashamed of my body for the way it betrayed me.
Especially that morning.
That morning, I didn’t want to get out of bed.
Our anniversary party was the coming Saturday, and I’d been trying my best to be upbeat and good enough for Molly, but I’d be lying if I said my mind wasn’t floating away with me lately. I felt closer to the end of our story than the beginning pages, which broke my heart each time I thought about it.
I wasn’t afraid of death. I was simply afraid of an afterlife without her by my side.
As I was trying to build up enough courage to get out of bed, every now and then, Molly would pop her head into the space and check on me.
The last time she came, she walked over to my side of the bed, bent down, and began to comb her fingers through my white hair. Instant comfort. I shut my eyes and sighed. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m just a bit tired today.”
“That’s okay.” She kissed my forehead before she stood tall again. She walked over to her side of the bed and crawled under the blankets with me. “I’m pretty tired, too.”
I huffed. “You’re not tired.”
“I am if you are. So today we rest.”
I wanted to argue, but she rested her head on my shoulder.
I was useless to arguments when that woman’s head was on my shoulder.
So we rested.
CHAPTER 19
Harry
Fifty-Five Years Ago
“I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get up,” Molly mentioned as she stirred in bed. “I’m just so tired this morning.” I held her hand in my right hand as my other hand rested against her ever-growing stomach.
Her ankles were swollen, and she hadn’t been able to sleep comfortably in weeks. We were only two weeks out before we welcomed our first daughter into the world—Christina. Molly had been highly uncomfortable for the past few weeks, and I’d been working like crazy to make enough money to give her and our child the lives we deserved.
Over the past year, I told my father I didn’t want to take over the family business. I told him how I wanted to open a fish fry restaurant. He laughed at me and told me I’d never make it, and if I were a wise man, I’d step into the role that was made for me so I could provide for my family.
Molly told me that she only wanted me to provide for her by living my dream.
When I found the courage to do so, it left us renting a one-bedroom shack that was so run-down. I felt like such a failure bringing my wife into that place, but Molly said it was beautiful, and she added so much color to the space that I almost forgot it was a hole in the wall.
That was what she did, though. She added color to everything she wandered across.
I lay next to her in bed and brushed my nose against hers. “Don’t apologize for being tired. You’re growing a whole human. You’re a superhero.”
“A superhero who can’t see her toes anymore,” she murmured with her eyes closed.
“Don’t worry. All seven toes are still there,” I joked.
“Seven?” She giggled. “I must’ve lost some while trying to shave last week.”
I snuggled in closer to her and closed my eyes. “My dad offered me the position at the construction company again today. He said I had a year of playing around with the fish business and that it was time for me to step up and be a real man now with a baby on the way.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’d think about it.”
Molly sat up slightly and narrowed her eyes. “Why would you lie to him?”
“I’m not lying to him. I am thinking about it.”
She sat up even more. “Why are you thinking about it?”
I placed one hand against her stomach and the other over her heart. “Because my two heartbeats deserve more than this.”
“More than what?”
“This, Molly,” I said, gesturing around the tiny house she had somehow transformed into a home. “The fish shack isn’t taking off, and I have a family to care for. The construction company would be steady money.”
“Who cares about steady money? We have happiness.”
I grimaced. “But—”
“Our vows,” she cut in.
“What?”
“I said in my vows, I don’t need anything more than this. Than you. Than us. You are my home, and we’ll be the same when Christina arrives. We don’t need more money. Just more love.”