Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
And when he told me he wanted to help me live again and asked me to kiss him, to let him breathe life into me, instead of saying no, I kissed him, and for the second time since I’d met him, I really did feel like I was living again. And instead of feeling guilty, it felt good.
“Kinsley is thinking about moving out,” Mom says, shaking me from my thoughts.
Dad turns around to look at me. “Really?” he says with a smile.
“Try not to sound too excited,” I drawl.
“I’m not excited,” he says gently. “But the fact that you’re considering it and with the anniversary coming up … I love you, and I’m glad to see you finally starting to climb out of the darkness. Moving out is a big deal …”
He continues to speak, but his words are drowned out by the pounding in my heart at his mention of the anniversary. How did I forget about it? I’ve been so busy with Taylor and Shane that it completely slipped my mind.
I glance at the date on my phone—March 11th. The anniversary of their deaths is in four days. And I completely forgot.
“I need to go shower,” I mutter, taking off out their back door before they can stop me.
When I get to my place, I peel my clothes off and turn the water to hot, needing to wash Shane off my body. I can smell his scent from sleeping on the couch with him. We kissed yesterday.
After my shower, I try to get lost in my book, but my brain is too busy thinking about this week.
“Kins,” my mom says, stepping through the front door. “You okay?”
“Hey. Yeah.” I set my book down.
“I knocked a few times, but when you didn’t answer, I got worried.”
Of course she got worried because this week is the anniversary of their deaths.
“I forgot,” I admit, blinking back my tears. “I was so busy with Shane and Taylor that I forgot until Dad reminded me. What kind of shitty person does that make me?”
“That doesn’t make you shitty,” Mom says, having a seat next to me. “That just means you’re moving forward.”
“While they’re dead.”
“And nothing you do will bring them back,” she says. “But for the first time since their deaths, it feels like you didn’t die with them.”
“I … think I need to call Julia.”
Mom nods. “Okay, if you need anything, I’m here.”
“Thank you.” I reach over and hug her. “I love you.”
Once she’s gone, I text Julia and ask for an emergency session. Since we were due to speak tomorrow anyway, she moves it to today.
“Kinsley,” she says when I walk into her office a few hours later. “How are you?” She has her legs crossed with her most recent knitting project in her lap.
“Not good,” I admit, having a seat. “I forgot that this week was the anniversary of Brandon’s and Brenna’s deaths.”
She nods. “And why do you think that is?”
“Because I was distracted by Shane and his daughter.”
“Distracted how?” she asks, not letting me get away with my vague answer.
“I spent the weekend with them.”
Julia raises a brow and sets her knitting project down. “Well, now, we’re getting somewhere.”
“Shane asked me to let him in,” I admit, remembering the way he looked into my eyes and asked me to kiss him.
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes?”
She quirks a brow. “Was that a question?”
I laugh. “Well, I tried to push him away by telling him that I’m leading him on because I don’t want any more kids or to get married, and eventually, he’ll want those things, but instead of him running, he said he just wants to take it one day at a time. No promises or labels.”
Julia nods. “Getting back to the babies and marriage. Is that a sure thing?”
I take a moment to think about her question, trying to imagine moving forward and getting married again, making promises for forever … growing another baby, one who isn’t Brandon’s, but instead Shane’s.
“A month ago, I would’ve said there was no way in hell that would happen, but now … I’m not so sure. Shane just makes it so damn easy to be myself around him. He doesn’t judge the way I’m grieving. He simply wants to spend time with me, and when I’m with him, I feel less sad. I feel like the old me, before the accident.”
“Did you just hear what you said?”
I shake my head, unsure of what she’s referring to.
“You said before the accident. You’ve never done that before. You always make a point to say you caused it, but you just admitted it was an accident.”
She’s right. I’ve always avoided that word because using it would mean taking the blame off me and I didn’t want to be let off the hook.
“Shane and I spoke about it the other day. He asked me if he got into a car accident with his daughter, would that mean he was a horrible dad, and it made me realize that even though I hold myself responsible, I hadn’t done it on purpose. I loved my husband and baby, and if I had known that by us getting into the car that night, they would lose their lives, I never would’ve done so.