Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
We were at a crossroads and we’d chosen different paths. I wanted to pull her to me and wipe her tears away. My eyes flicked to Andrew and I remembered it was no longer my place to comfort her.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I managed to croak out a response.
“It’s okay, Ana.” Then I turned and walked away.
Part III
Chapter Forty-Two
Ana
Present Day
I stood at the front of the line, shaking people’s hands, giving a polite ‘thank you’ when they offered their condolences. I felt hollow, almost as though I was standing off to the side, watching the shell of who I used to be, trying to function.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Anabelle. Natasha was a wonderful woman.”
“Thank you. She was.”
Was, was, was, was.
I hated past tense. I hated ‘was’. What a shitty word.
My mother is an amazing woman. Whether her soul resided in her body or not. She is amazing. My chest shook looking over at the casket, but I choked back the sob rattling its hollow cage, trying to break free, and turned to the next person.
“I’m so sorry, Anabelle.”
On and on it went. One person after the next. I didn’t even look up at the faces anymore, instead staring somewhere below their chins. They were a blur, and I didn’t care.
Until one voice broke through. One I hadn’t heard in four years.
“Anabelle.”
Just my name.
My eyes jerked up and found his eyes. God, I’d missed them—didn’t realize how much I needed them until I stared up at them. The same eyes that I’d looked for in my best and worst moments since I was sixteen. They were exactly the same, just a little older and wiser.
Two strong hands wrapped around my cold shaky ones and held before shifting to link his pinkies with mine. He said nothing, but he didn’t need to—his eyes held all the comfort I’d been missing from every other person in the room. We stopped the line as I held tight to the lifeline he’d given me.
Not caring about anyone else, I took my time to look him over. Kevin looked the same. His hair was a little shorter, but when I scanned all of him, it was all the same. Comfort, safety . . . home.
And within the grasp of my haven, I crumbled. The sob I’d been holding back broke free, and my face fell from the pain that had been clinging to me. Not wanting to be sobbing as I shook everyone’s hand, I bolted. My dad could take the head of the line for a bit.
I didn’t look back see if Kevin followed me, and walked as fast as I could on wobbly legs to the bathroom, locking myself inside. Plopping on the toilet seat, I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked, trying to pull all the pieces back together.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to feel my mom, tried to find her presence around me, but could only remember her words in the last few moments with her.
“You’re so strong Ana. You make me so proud, seeing how strong and independent you are. But baby . . . there is no harm in needing someone else. No harm in leaning on others. Promise me you won’t take on the world alone.”
“The only person I need is you, Mom.”
“And I’ll always be with you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Finally standing, I moved to the sink and splashed water on my face trying to soothe the redness around my eyes. I looked in the mirror and tried to find her within me.
I felt nothing.
“Just a minute,” I called out when someone knocked on the door. That was enough hiding and I needed to get out of there.
It wasn’t long before they announced it was time to head to the cemetery where they would bury her. Kevin hadn’t approached me again, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel his eyes on me the whole time.
I wished he would have sat in the front with me and linked his hands in mine as I watched her casket being lowered to the ground. I wished everyone would stop staring at me as though they were waiting for me to crack. I wished I was as alone as I felt.
As soon as it ended, I had the hired car take me back to the house to let the guests in for the party. I’d wanted to end the whole thing after the burial, but my mom made sure to request a party in her honor.
I’d laughed, picturing her smile as she wrote it in her will. She’d loved a good party. Shayla had been kind enough to help me plan it, even after I’d snapped after drinking a couple bottles of wine, and had told her that she would never replace my mother.