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“Is this happening way too fast?”
His hands went to my waist, pulling me in. It was then, as I met his chocolate eyes, that I read the emotion swimming in them. He was scared. And here I’d thought, I was the only one afraid of this new relationship.
My fingers brushed the light stubble at his chin. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“Nothing.” His voice trailed off, his gaze drifting to somewhere over my shoulder. “I don’t think it’s happening too fast. Or maybe it is.” He laughed without humor. “Now, I’m not making any sense.” He shook his head and pulled me further into the room until we were both sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m not used to this, Becky. Sharing my thoughts, my kids, my life with someone else who isn’t”—he exhaled heavily—“Natalie.”
In that moment, I understood him, where he was coming from. We were both scared but for totally different reasons. I was scared of getting hurt again, and he was scared of letting go.
I wrapped both hands firmly around his neck. “We’re both afraid of what’s happening between us. Maybe because it seems like it’s too good to be true. But”—I exhaled, deeply, meeting his eyes firmly—“I’d like to believe that we deserve happiness. That everything we’ve gone through was enough trauma for one person in a lifetime of lifetimes and that we can finally be happy.”
His arms wrapped around my waist, and he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. Then, he pulled me in tightly against him. We held each other in silence, comforting each other without words, until he finally pulled us to the bed, and I found myself lying on his chest while his fingers rustled through my hair.
After a few long, quiet moments, he stilled. “When I moved into this house, I moved her stuff in too. Her clothes are still in the basement. Her toothbrush and our wedding rings are on her supposed side of the bathroom.” His voice was soft, and it was as if he was talking mostly to himself. “What crazy man moves his dead wife’s belongings into his parents’ house?”
His breathing turned shallow beneath my cheek, and I could hear his heart pounding faster.
“In the beginning, the insane part of me thought maybe she’d come back. But …” He held his breath for a few seconds before getting the next words out. “She can’t. She’s dead.”
Tears formed behind my eyes, and I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry. I’d suffered tragedy and heartache and pain during my lifetime, but so had he on a different level. He’d lost his other half, his wife, the mother of his children. The thought gutted me. To have it all and then, in a split second, have that taken away.
“And I think of putting it away.” His voice choked with sadness. “I tried to once. But then it seemed like … I was erasing her memory. It felt … wrong.”
All my restraint was weakened by the sound of his voice, and the tears fell, streaming down my cheeks. I lifted up higher on his chest and kissed him, wanting to comfort him—or more so, needing him to comfort me. “It’s not like that. You can’t think of it like that.”
He visibly swallowed. I couldn’t help but think of how we were opposite on this. I had lived my life, trying to forget my past. He was afraid he wouldn’t remember it anymore.
“Everything happens for a reason. Every single thing,” I said. “I wholeheartedly believe that. Every heartache, everything that has happened in my life, every hurt—it’s made me who I am today. Stronger … more resilient.” I paused, framing my own thoughts in my head. “I’m ashamed of my past. More than that, I’m trying to forget what has happened because I hate reliving those memories.” I touched his cheek, staring at the newly formed stubble. “But you’ve helped me get over that.”
He had. I wasn’t healed from everything that had happened to me, but telling him had been a huge hurdle to overcome and one more step to me getting where I wanted to be—healed and whole and new.
“Moving on for me means something different for you. You have happy memories with Natalie, joyful ones.” I touched his cheek as a shudder ran through him. He had one hand thrown over his eyes, and then I knew. I knew he was crying. “Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. Moving on means remembering. Remembering how she impacted your life, how she showed you love, shaped you to be the father and CEO you are today.”
My tears fell down my cheeks because it was true. There was no doubt that she’d played a major part in shaping this man—this kind and thoughtful man in front of me. They had known each other since high school.
I pulled his arm away from his eyes, forcing him to look up at me. “Her love is shown through you—how you love your kids, how you lead the company, how you have compassion in everything you do. And I …” I inhaled deeply. “One day, I want to be the recipient of that same love.” I lifted myself higher on his chest. “It’s okay to remember because if there wasn’t Natalie, there wouldn’t be the you that you are today.”
Chapter 29
Charles
I didn’t get an ounce of sleep that night, my mind rampant with thoughts of Natalie and Becky, my past and future meshing.
But the longer I held Becky in my arms, peace filled me. There were a lot of things said yesterday, in the early morning. Things that we needed to deal with, but we both realized we had come a long way already from where we had been with emotionally healing from the past.
I slipped out of my bed, careful not to wake Becky, and walked to the bathroom, staring at Natalie’s belongings on her side of the sink. I could almost hear her voice as though she were in the room, her nose wrinkling when she didn’t agree with something that I had done.
What are you doing, Charles? This is ridiculous.
It was me holding on, and in my heart, I knew that she wouldn’t want me to do that. With a huge breath for courage, I took a duffel bag from my closet and carefully packed up her side of the sink. As I placed her makeup brushes and her perfumes and her toiletries into the duffel bag, surprisingly, the tightness in my chest lightened.
Letting go is not forgetting,I could practically hear her saying.
And I knew that Natalie, my angel, was watching over me.
It didn’t take long to get her side of the sink cleaned up, and as I bent down to zip up the duffel bag, that same voice whispered in my head,Keep on going.
And so I did.
