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But something keeps pricking in my head. Like a needle moving through skin, preventing me from falling into the deep slumber I crave so keenly.

Ada is a conundrum; always has been since the day we met. But there is something I can be sure of, a lesson learned the hard way by her past behavior. She is convincing, she is unpredictable. That combination often equals a nuclear bomb of consequences.

She had told me she loved me and then cheated on me. She continues to berate me, claiming she wants me even though she so clearly had me before. There is nothing left that can surprise me about her erratic behavior and poor decision-making.

I fall asleep eventually, trying to place my concerns about Ada on the shelf of my mind. I dream of a bomb going off as I stand in a field with Josephine, watching as the red blooms into black.

37

JOSEPHINE

Isit in my room looking over the photos from an extra copy of the magazine Aiden sent me. It has been a few days since we’ve seen each other, and I’m not going to lie to myself anymore. I miss him, and that is the damn truth.

I flip through the pages as the morning sun pours in. I haven’t slept much since mom came back home. I have missed her dearly, as has my father. But she still needs her rest, so we leave her be when the commotion of our presence becomes too much.

When I find myself unable to sleep, I walk through the hallways and stand silently outside her bedroom door. Anxiety makes me listen to her breathing, while love makes me simply want to be near her.

On more than one occasion, I have pushed the door open a bit and seen my father in there with her. He usually sits in the easy chair, propped up, snoring away, his hand still clutching my mother’s even in sleep.

The sight of it destroyed me the first time I saw it, in more ways than one. It is the image of an ideal love, one I wish I could somehow get a grasp of.

Today, I stay in bed a bit later. I have taken a few days off from work to spend it with my mom, helping her settle in. She shows a general contentment to be home and in the arms of her family, and I want to be by her side as long as I can.

My father, too, has taken time off from the shop. We have fallen into a lull of letting her sleep in late, bringing her breakfast in bed. When that is done, we simply spend as much time as we can together. She is able to get up and is slowly but surely getting better. A physiotherapist comes in three times a week to help her get her confidence and skill back.

But it is likely that she will never be who she was before. I know that there is a great grief in that for anyone, but my mother’s disposition remains the way it always has; disruptively hopeful.

I think about this as I flip through the photos of Aiden and I, with a mixture of gratitude and disappointment. My parent’s wedding photos have a similar feeling to them; a youthful optimism that cannot be downplayed. It was genuine happiness that I felt that day, but looking at them now makes me feel like a bit of a fraud.

A fraud who truly misses the person who is technically her husband, if only through formality.

I have yet to tell my mother about our deal. I take off my ring every time I see her. It almost feels more dishonest to walk around with it on, in front of the two most important people in my life. Two people I still don’t want to disappoint.

I sigh and close the magazine. It is nearly 10 A.M., and I haven’t heard a stir from my father. He likely fell asleep in the chair next to my mother again, his wife, the love of his life…

The moment I begin to feel downcast again, I see my phone light up. It’s on my side table, and I have yet to look at it. Social media can feel just as fake as the marriage I found myself in.

I grab it off the table. Immediately, my heart does a backflip. It’s a text message from Aiden.

Good morning, gorgeous. Take a look outside, when you get a second.He sent a winky face emoji along with it.

“What did he do?”

My heart gallops in my chest, suffocating any sadness I had been feeling just moments before. I shoot up from my lying position on the bed and get onto my knees, pushing the curtains aside to peer out the window.

Aiden is indeed there, standing by the mailbox with a stunning bouquet of flowers in his hands. He is quite a marvelous sight in his slacks and polo shirt, which nicely frames those thick and strong shoulder muscles I have been craving to touch since the day we met.

He does not see me, but I smile anyway. I change out of my pajamas and into something casual, a T-shirt and yoga pants, then pull my hair into a loose bun. There is no time for trying to impress him. I hope in my heart, perhaps foolishly, that all of that beauty will come later.

I whisk out the front door and walk down the driveway, the cool air slapping against my bare skin. The sun sits in a bright blue sky, the day of wonder just beginning. I move slowly, watching him, waiting until that fateful moment when he sees me.

When he does, I feel a glow in my chest that can truly, only mean one thing. My body is a bushel of roses, blooming in front of him, excited beyond measure to be in his presence. I don’t repress the feeling. I can’t do it anymore.

His smile is dazzling, his eyes deep and shining as he holds the flowers like a young boy on prom night. I fold my arms and lean against the post of the mailbox, pursing my lips sarcastically.

“Well well, look who it is,” I say in a low, teasing tone. “I thought you may have gone out to pasture…”

Aiden’s smile slowly fades away. Mine does, too, as I feel a beat between us. He drops his hand holding the flowers to his side, then does something that I had been dreaming of since I first laid eyes upon him.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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