Page 15 of Someone to Hold


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He takes the baby monitor from her. “No problem.”

The guys, along with Joy, Lexi and Brielle, are fixated on the TV, where the Commanders are playing the Steelers.

We grab winter coats, hats and scarves, since the temperature has dropped into the forties, and head out, walking onto the beach and down to the water where the sand is packed down and easier to walk on.

I link my arm through hers. “How’s the engagement going so far?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“We’re all so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks. We were talking last night about how it’s a delicate thing to be overtly happy among our widow friends.”

“Don’t do that. We all know what you guys endured to get to this moment. Enjoy every second of it. We also know—all too well—how we have to live every day like it’s our last.”

“True. We just would hate to be too much, you know?”

“I do, and you’re not. If you get there, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you. Not just for that… For everything. Seriously, Iris. That day we first spoke, I had no idea what you were introducing me to or how critical this group would become to me surviving Patrick’s death. Thank you so, so much.”

“Oh, please. Don’t thank me. I got a wonderful new friend when you joined us. I should be thanking you.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? That our closest friends from ‘before’ aren’t so close anymore, but this whole new group of people are like family?”

“Everything is weird in the ‘after.’ Every single freaking thing.”

“Yes, it is. I still feel guilty, you know?”

“For what?”

“For loving Derek as much as I loved Patrick, even if it’s a different kind of love. It’s a wiser, more mature kind, if that makes sense.”

“It does. You’ve both been through an intensive course at the school of hard knocks. It’s made you wiser and more grateful for what you have.”

“That’s it, exactly. We’re not waiting for tragedy to show us how incredibly lucky we are. We’re living that every day.”

“Speaking of living every day… I did a thing.”

She stops walking and turns to face me. “What did you do?”

“I might’ve pretended to get in the wrong bed—naked—Friday night.”

Her mouth drops open. “Whose bed?” Her eyes go wide. “Gage?”

I flash my cheesiest grin. “Maybe?”

“Iris!And you sat on this all day yesterday?”

“I couldn’t get a minute alone with you.”

“You could’ve texted me!”

Laughing, I say, “I didn’t think of that.”

“This is huge!”

“Don’t make it huge. It’s just a thing that happened. Well, last night, too. And a little bit yesterday afternoon.”

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