Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Isaac let me cry. He let me fall apart. And he didn’t tell me I would be okay, we would be okay, or life would be okay. My best friend was gone.
Nothing would ever feel okay again.
“I should … I sh-should … I should have been … in that c-car.” I hadn’t hyperventilated before, but that’s what I imagined it felt like.
My heart raced. I felt lightheaded. And I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how hard I tried.
“Shh. No, baby.” He kissed my head. “You could have been in that car. But you weren’t. And I’m so fucking sorry that you lost your friends. It wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t their fault. It was life. And sometimes life can be cruel. But that’s part of the deal. Death is part of the deal. No one knows how long they have. And it sucks that your friends didn’t have more time, but nobody thinks you should have been in that car.”
“I can’t b-breathe …” My chest puffed out in little staccatos as I clawed for a breath.
“Yes, you can.” He pressed his hand to my cheek and rubbed his thumbs over my tears. “Purse your lips.” He pursed his. “Slow it down. Slow each breath. There’s plenty of air; just slow it down.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’ve got you.” He took my hand and rested it flat against his chest. “Feel that? I’ve got you. Breathe with me.”
Isaac wrapped me in his whole body while we sat in the middle of the sunflower field, dressed in black, with a lot of explaining to do.
Eventually, I found my breath, exhausted, like I could take an eternal nap. Isaac loosened his hold on me and stroked my hair while gently rocking us side to side.
“I have to go back. There’s a burial. And I have to do it all over again in two days. And now I also have to explain why you carried me out of the church.”
“You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to explain. You don’t have to bury anyone. You don’t have to do it again on Thursday. And if you don’t want to go home, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Why would you do that for me?”
“You know why.”
Because you love me.
I didn’t want to run from the grief. Heather never would have done that. And I didn’t want to leave my family. I loved them. And I wanted to make things right with Matt because by trying to chase my dreams while protecting him, I only hurt him.
“I have to go back.”
Isaac regarded me, gauging my sincerity. Then he stood and helped me to my feet. We brushed the dirt off our backsides. Then I straightened his tie.
“You look handsome,” I said, staring at his tie. The swelling caused my eyes to squint permanently. “But I never want to see you in a suit again. If I die first, wear jeans and your cowboy hat to my funeral.”
“On one condition,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out of the field.
“What’s that?”
“You let me die first.”
I stopped, tightening my grip on his hand so he would stop too. He turned, eyes narrowed.
“I can’t lose you,” I whispered.
His expression softened, and he brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “That’s my line.” He kissed me, and I released his hand to wrap my arms around his neck.
We were either the bad kind of right or the good kind of wrong. It was hard to distinguish the two. We had a reckless love and perfectly awful timing. We were impossible to describe, and that’s why every time I tried to put us into words, it made no sense.
He released me and again took my hand, taking a step in front of me.
“Isaac?”
“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder.
“I love you too.”
A slow smile slid up his face. “Then I’m a lucky son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE BEATLES, “LET IT BE”
We returned to the church just as Matt and the other pallbearers carried Heather’s casket to the hearse. Isaac and I let go of each other at the same time. And I loved him even more for knowing it wasn’t the right moment to take something suspicious (like carrying me out of the church) and turn it into an unquestionable declaration.
After all, Isaac spent six years serving and protecting. Was it a stretch to believe that he was the only one in the church who wasn’t so lost in their own emotions to see me bleeding out?
My mom and sisters hurried toward us.
“Sarah,” Mom hugged me. “I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be okay. I’m so sorry. No one should have asked you to speak.”
I pulled away from her, peering at the casket as they loaded it into the back of the hearse. It wasn’t real. Her body wasn’t in that shiny box. The cruelty and unfairness were too much, even if Isaac believed it was part of the deal.