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“Lucy, please, for the love of god, say something!” Piper shakes me, begging I speak. But there are simply no words.
As she continues rocking me, I know it’s time to go.
Turning slowly, I look at my best friend, staring into her tear-stained eyes. I need to say something, anything, so I say the only thing that I can—the only thing that’ll elucidate how I feel inside.
With a single tear tracing a path down my cheek, I profess, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
* * * * *
April 8th 2011
Dear diary,
Today has been the best day of my life. Well, one of the best. Samuel and I finally did it— we moved in together! After eight years of dating, Sam has finally made an honest woman out of me!
Our dream home in Montana is everything I could ever wish for. I still can’t believe I’m sitting in my bedroom, in my new home, writing this. Our property is absolutely amazing, and I can’t wait to venture out on our twenty acres, hand in hand. Or better yet, ride our horses into the sunset. So corny, but true!
Our ranch, Whispering Willows, has incredible views of the Tobacco Root Mountains, and I look forward to sipping iced tea while enjoying the tranquility from our decks and stone patios, which are surrounded by our beautifully manicured landscapes.
Cottonwood trees, quiet groves of quaking aspen, and gorgeous willow clusters give us the privacy we need to venture around undisturbed. Mom and Dad are about thirty minutes away, and so are Kellie and Gregory. It’s perfect. It’s my dream come true.
Every day I wake, grateful for what I have and who I’ve become. I don’t like to separate my life into two parts because bouncing around from foster home to foster home in L.A. is a distant memory, but it’s one I’ll never forget. It made me into the person I am today. It showed me where I belong, and to whom I belong.
I know we’re going to be happy here. I can feel it in my bones. This is the start of our new life together and I couldn’t be happier.
I knew Samuel was ‘the one’ and as naïve as that makes me, I do believe in true love and our happily ever after. He is my soul mate, and there is no one for me but him. He’s ingrained into my very existence, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Not that I ever have to worry about that.
I know Sam feels the same way because I saw something which cements our future. I didn’t mean to snoop, but the gleam from his grandmother’s engagement ring caught my eye. The ring was sitting innocently in a box he had half unpacked. I debated with myself for all of three seconds before I quietly, like a thief in the night, slipped my hand inside and pulled out the most stunning ring in the world.
I felt beyond wicked, as I’ve never been a rule breaker, but the moment I felt the smooth, one carat diamond and imperial white gold band pass under my fingertip, I was completely converted to a life of crime.
I didn’t dare put it on, but then my newfound rebellion kicked in. I snuck a quick peek at the door before slipping it on my finger. I couldn’t stop the tears—it was perfect. But just as quickly as I found the ring, I swiftly placed it back, not wanting Sam to catch me red-handed.
We’ve spoken about marriage and kids in passing, but Sam wants to focus on the family business, Stone and Sons, helping his dad on the wheat and barley farm. We’re still young—we’ve got our entire lives ahead of us. But as I think of that beautiful ring and how it looked on my finger, I realize I want that future to come sooner rather than later.
I want nothing more than to be become Mrs. Samuel Stone. But all good things come to those who wait, so I’ll sit tight, but not so patiently. Patience has never been my strong suit, but I’ll wait forever and a day for Sam.
So here’s to our new life together…I can’t wait to see what comes next.
Two
The stunned, grief-stricken gasps ofvisitors and patients reveal I look as mad as I feel. But I can’t stop. After I finished throwing up all over my now ruined gown, a sense of urgency passed over me and nothing, not even Satan himself, could stop me from charging into the hospital, desperate to see Sam.
My heels strike in time with my hammering heart as I pound down the long hallway, frantic to find my fiancé. Piper and my parents trail behind, offering words of encouragement, but nothing will ease the knot of despair eating away at my very existence.
A pretty blonde nurse sitting behind a large counter raises her head when she hears my stilettos stab at the linoleum. Her horrified reaction confirms that I look like the bride from hell with my smeared makeup, vomit-stained dress, and lopsided bun. But my appearance is the least of my concerns. On any other day, I would make conversation and ask how her morning has been. But not today. I sniff back my torrent of tears. “C-can you p-please tell me where S-Samuel S-Stone is?” My breathless tone is shrill, unlike me; therefore, my sentence is comparable to gibberish.
“Sorry?” she says, pulling backward as I prop onto the counter, ignoring social etiquette and disregarding her personal bubble.
“Samuel Stone,” I repeat, tugging at the pearls around my neck, as they’re suddenly cutting off my air supply.
When she continues staring at me, no doubt thinking I’m completely unhinged, I slam my palm on the counter, tears pricking my eyes. “Samuel Stone! Where is he?” She’s wasting precious time.
Just as I’m about to very uncharacteristically jump over the desk and strangle her, a warm, familiar hand rests on my arm, reminding me of my manners. “Sweetheart, I’ve got this. Go wait with your mother.” I don’t argue with my father, and nod a quick apology to the startled nurse. I’m appalled at my behavior. This isn’t her fault.
I wait on the sidelines and watch as my father calmly uncovers the details. When he pales, I cover my mouth, turning into my mother’s side. I know it’s bad, my father’s reaction says it all. “It’s going to be okay, honey.” My mom’s words are empty, but the false assurance is her way of saying there’s always hope.
But my hope is lost. I know nothing will ever be the same.
