Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“I colored this for you.”
I froze, except for my heart. It lurched into my throat at the sound of Josh’s voice. When I inched my head in his direction, he grinned, handing me a picture of an apple orchard and a bouquet of red roses.
“Thank you,” I whispered because I could barely speak past the lump of emotion in my throat.
He hugged me, and I closed my eyes while running my hands through his hair. I knew Kyle was standing behind him, but I couldn’t look at him.
Not yet.
There weren’t enough boxes of tissues in the entire rehab clinic to handle the tears I knew I’d cry when that moment came.
And it came all too quickly because Josh released me, and my gaze lifted.
“Hey, beautiful,” Kyle said, unzipping his Carhartt jacket. He no longer had his arm in a sling.
“Hey,” I said, but my voice immediately broke, and I cupped a hand at my mouth. I refused to blink, but it didn’t matter. The tears freely flowed down my face.
Kyle didn’t hesitate for a second before his good hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb smearing my tears before he cradled the back of my head, and his injured arm hooked my waist. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck.
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.
Everything at that stupid rehab center peeled away a layer of my skin—the scars and stubborn calluses—until I felt exposed and raw. My time there changed me forever. I had to experience all the emotions from the previous four years without the numbing effect of alcohol. And I wondered what else I robbed myself of feeling completely.
Joy?
Peace?
Love?
“Are you feeling better?” Josh asked.
I released Kyle and wiped my tears while sniffling. Then I turned toward Josh, sitting at the table and looking at the puzzle while he wriggled out of his coat.
“I am,” I said with a smile, just above a whisper.
A new round of tears hit hard and fast when I saw Josh’s arm and the pink raised scars.
“Are you coming home today?” Josh asked.
My gaze shifted from his arm to him, and I quickly wiped my tears again while shaking my head. “Not yet. But soon. How is your arm?” I sat next to him.
He looked at it. “It’s getting better.”
“That’s good,” I said past the lump in my throat.
“The doctor said he’ll have minimal to no long-term scars,” Kyle said as we sat at the table with Josh.
Was he saying that to make me feel better? It didn’t. The sound of Josh screaming would stay in my head forever.
I combed my hair with my fingers. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Josh rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. “You look pretty.”
My heart twisted, wringing more tears from my eyes because he was so sweet, and I couldn’t stop looking at his arm.
Those scars could have been on his face.
Kyle mimicked Josh’s pose and grinned. “I second that opinion.”
I blushed and laughed. “Thank you. How’s your arm?”
“Better. I’m doing my exercises for it.”
My smile faded. “You shouldn’t have carried me. That was too much.”
Kyle twisted his lips and bobbed his head. “Perhaps it was too much, but it’s exactly what I should have done, and that’s why I did it. The alternative wasn’t an option.”
Letting me die.
When Josh shifted his attention to the puzzle again, I curled my hair behind my ears and stared at my hands folded on my lap. “I’ve been rehearsing so many apologies in my head.” I squinted and shook my head. “But you caught me off guard today, and I want to get it right when I say it—”
“Eve, you don’t owe anyone an apology for anything.”
“I do.” I lifted my gaze to his. “I really do. I let my past, my ego, and a million other things lead me down the wrong road. And I blamed everyone except myself. So I need to take responsibility for what I did wrong and the people I hurt.” I glanced out the window at the gray, overcast sky. “I fell so hard for you,” I whispered.
“You fell?” Josh asked without looking up.
We chuckled. There was too much to say that wasn’t for Josh’s ears. And I didn’t know if I’d ever get to say it. He was leaving, and I was … well, I didn’t know anything beyond that moment. My time at rehab taught me to slow down, be grateful for tiny accomplishments, and not buy tomorrow’s problems.
Still, I wanted to ask him what my dad said, if he’d talked to his brother, and if he would miss me.
“Did you have turkey today?” I asked.
“Your mom snuck us two plates filled with turkey and trimmings,” Kyle said.
I told myself to be happy for them and not feel slighted by my parents not visiting me with a plate of home-cooked food. I told them not to, but I no longer meant it.