Page 99 of Gravity

Turning in my hold, Nora steps in close, her head low as I wrap my arms around her. The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall and my skin becomes decorated with a blanket of goosebumps when her fingertips brush down my chest.

“Let me hear them again?” she whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek.

My hands cradle her jaw, I hold her gaze and repeat the words she’s needing to hear with conviction and assurance. "You are beautiful. You are brave and you are strong," I whisper. "So very strong."

They’re the same words I’ve said to her all week—the ones I’ve repeated in her ear when I’ve caught her staring into space and falling into a world of solitude. They’re the same words I’ve whispered against her skin when I’ve held her close and as I’ve stroked her nose at night before she’s fallen asleep.

“I don’t feel strong. Not today,” she whispers, her lip quivering. “I feel like my heart is fractured, Grayson. I’ve never known pain like this before.”

Her words and the look of devastation in her eyes is enough to make my body tremble. I’ve told her she is brave, strong, but the truth is, I’m not. I’ve tried to hide my sadness when I’ve been around her as best as I can, and there have been times when I’ve said I’ve needed to go home to take care of a few things. But I’ve only used that as an excuse to be on my own and cry like you wouldn’t believe.

It’s hard to remain the strong one when you’re still learning to survive your own heartbreak.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It gets easier, Nora. I promise you. With time, you will slowly learn to breathe again.”

Empathy clouds her eyes as a flat smile tugs at her lips.

Her hands glide up my torso, and I can already sense the words that are going to fall from her lips. She can see what I’ve been trying to hide this past week. She can see that my guard is falling, and I loathe that I’ve made myself this vulnerable when she needs me to be her strength right now.

But I don’t know how long I can keep this wall up.

"I'm sorry, Grayson," she whispers. "This can't be easy for you either. It must bring unpleasant memories back for you."

I trail my finger along her hairline, down her jaw before I lift her chin a little higher so I know I have her full attention. I speak with conviction and sincerity. "My heartache doesn't matter when you're the one breaking right now."

"I need you more than you know, Grayson. And I don’t just mean today."

My heart rate shifts gear, and those damn tingles she creates cascade down my spine. She doesn’t have to say anything else because I can hear the hidden meaning behind her words. I can feel it in her touch. I can see it in her eyes, and I sense it in her kiss.

This woman is my everything. All this time, my reason to live has been right in front of me, and whatever happens next, I’m going to fight with everything that I am to keep it that way.

"I’m never letting go, Nora.” I kiss the tip off her nose. “Never.”

* * *

Everyone else has paid their respects, Fiona has headed home with Mark, Charlie, Makenna, and Wade leaving the two of us here. It’s just us at the graveside now.

As a daughter, Nora has been the strongest I’ve ever seen her for Fiona, but as a mother, Fiona had known Nora needs her time with her dad.

The moment we are alone, my girl breaks down so hard that she takes me with her, falling to her knees. The cries that leaves her tiny frame sends a blade of pure agony straight to my heart, shattering me into pieces. Her nails dig into the grass, her knuckles white, as her body shudders with the wreckage of what is playing out in front of her.

The service had been everything you would want it to be for an honorable man like Pete: beautiful yet raw. American flags provided a wall of color around the graveside, and the men in their dark uniform stood like statues as the sun had reflected off their badges that lined their chests.

Now, I can’t move.

I’m completely numb, paralyzed with my mother’s face once again before me as that heavy load of bereavement I’ve carried for the last two years hits me like a fucking freight train. I can’t breathe, my chest is raw, and tears stream down my face. I’m right back there to the day I buried her—to the day it was me crouched to the ground asking anyone listening why it’d had to be her.

I’ve relived every part of that day while I’ve been at this cemetery, and I can’t even rationalize how I feel about it, other than pure gut-wrenched. I’ve hardly been to her grave since she’s been gone, and this is been a brutal reminder of how I’ve let her down once again.

Only I’m not back there.

This day isn’t for her, and I certainly am not the man I was two years ago.

Like I’ve just been shoved back into reality, the soft sounds of Nora’s endless tears jolt me into the present as I hear her ask for her daddy to come back because he’s gone too soon.

Needing to comfort her, I wipe my tears and kneel beside her. With a gentle brush of my hand, I tuck loose strands of her hair from her face behind her ear. Her skin is hot and clammy, her body trembling with sheer distress, and even with my own agony, I’d do anything to take hers away.

“Shortcake, I’m here. It’s just us.”