Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Grayson didn’t say much. Everything the doctors said was a reason why he didn’t take his meds, never watched what he ate, and enjoyed drinking beer every night after work. He wanted to live on his terms, not the terms of some medical association telling him what to do.
But now he had a second chance at life after being reckless with his first one. He’d kissed Reid and told her he liked her, or at least hinted in that direction, although he wasn’t entirely sure she’d believed him. He’d have to show her he meant it. There was no way he could let her down now. She’d never forgive him.
So he nodded and listened to what the doctors told him. Grayson would go to therapy, both physical and mental. He’d eat better, because his mom and Reid would make sure of it. He’d follow the rules and guidelines and make it to all his follow-up appointments. Grayson would be better for his mom. For Reid. And for the person who had died in order for him to have a new lease on life.
That was heavy. Having thoughts about a person who had died. He placed his hand over his heart, and everything hurt.
Except it didn’t.
Grayson’s mind was playing tricks on him. The drugs kept him pain-free. Anything he felt was a figment of his imagination. Sure, they’d cut his chest open, removed his second-most-vital organ, and put a new one in, so to his mind, his body should hurt. He should feel the pain from the incision, from them breaking his ribs and then sewing him back together.
He felt longing. Desire. Love.
Reid came back into the room after the doctors left and sat next to him. They held hands and looked at each other.
“I’m alive,” he told her.
“You are, and I’m so damn happy because of it.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay,” she told him. “You’re fine now, and that’s all that matters.”
Grayson asked her about his job, and she filled him in. Everyone at work was happy he’d made it through surgery. They had donated sick days to cover what he lacked until his medical leave kicked in. Pearce had a countdown going to when they could get back on the court, and the women had started a calendar of meals they planned to make him.
It all sounded good, except for the fact that he’d have to spend his days by himself. One of the aspects of his job that he loved so much was the fact that he worked with Reid every day. He was about to ask her again about the date when his mom and stepdad walked in. More alone time with Reid would have to wait.
TEN
NADIA
Nadia lay in bed, mindlessly watching television and then aimlessly flipping the channel each time a commercial came on. She regretted the last channel change immediately when a local late-morning news show showed a picture of Rafe on the screen. Her heart sank at the sight of her husband, smiling and perfect. She should’ve kept scrolling, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. And then she heard the words: The City of Boston plans to honor hero Rafe Karlsson, and the Commonwealth Cup is considering changing its name.
Nadia sat up. No one had called and asked her if she wanted this. If her children wanted this. She had a hard enough time grappling with Rafe being labeled a “hero,” and now he was going to be honored. With what, the key to the city? The last thing she wanted was to be reminded every year by the media that her husband had died. She didn’t want the girls growing up, year after year, hearing about how their father had died while running a road race. Nor did Nadia want Rafe to be the face of the annual event. She wanted to forget and go back to the last morning they’d spent in bed together and beg him not to go.
The thoughts made her sick to her stomach. She barely made it to the bathroom before she lost what little her stomach held. Her mother came in with her and held her hair back. Nadia sat on the floor and cried. There wasn’t anything anyone could do or say to change things, not now. Not ever.
“You need to eat,” Lorraine told her daughter. “You have to be strong for the girls, Nadia.”
“I don’t want to,” she sobbed. “I want my husband back.”
“I know, sweetie. Believe me, I know.”
But did she? Lorraine Bolton had married her high school sweetheart. They were happy with their three children and four grandchildren. They were doing exactly what Rafe and Nadia had planned—growing old together.
“You don’t know what it feels like.” She looked at her mom and put her fist over her heart. “It hurts so bad, and it feels like I can’t breathe.” To prove her point, her body shuddered and gasped for air. “He’s gone and . . .” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Her husband was just gone.