Page 94 of Hopeful Hearts

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“I’ll see you at Mom and Dad's then,” Sophia patted Emmet’s arm and hurried out of the hospital. She had no idea what preparing for Emmet’s homecoming entailed, but she knew she wanted to make it as special as she possibly could for her brother. He needed reminding no matter what the limitations were on his body, life goes on and the people that matter won’t think of him any differently than before.


Brodie strung the bunting up above the Randalls' fireplace and studied his wife.

Sophia’s hair was piled up on top of her head, with a few rogue waves escaping to frame her face.

There was a hint of colour in her cheeks today, and the skin under her eyes had become less translucent.

She was coming back to him. Hour by hour, the improvements were small but noticeable, and watching her get better made him burst with pride.

Still, she had a long way to go, and her eyes gave her true well-being away.

“You look tired.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your eyes. They’re always a dead giveaway.”

“They are?” She popped an inquisitive brow.

He stopped hanging the bunting to wrap his arms around her.

“When you’re happy and well, they sparkle this bright green colour like a forest and when you get sad, or mad for that matter, they are full brown. Like winter has come and stolen all the leaves from the trees.”

“You’re so lovely to me, you know?”

“I’m just saying what I see.” he swiped a finger over her nose and she scrunched her face.

He loved that her playful side was coming back, and it was a relief after months of serious discussions and worry.

When he planted a warm kiss on her lips, she responded, and he instantly sought out more of her with his tongue.

Sophia pushed him away. “Stop.”

“Why?” Brodie groaned.

“We’re running out of time. Emmet will be home soon.”

“We could sneak a quickie in?”

“Very funny,” she shook her head, and he rolled his eyes.

“How am I going to last another three weeks? It’s like some form of torture. You’re right there but I can’t do anything I want to do to you.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” she winked at him and he jokingly scrunched up his face in frustration.

“Should we even be doing all this?” He asked.

“I just want things to be perfect for him.”

“Well, no one can accuse you of not making an effort,” Brodie said over the drawing pin between his teeth as he pinned the end of the bunting into place.

“I’m just glad he’s coming home.”

“Do you think this will be comfy enough? We could try carrying his old bed downstairs?”

“Um, you won’t be carrying anything. You’re still on the mend, remember?”

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