Page 28 of One Final Breath


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Chapter 13

Faye

Waking up, my eyes are heavy, and as I bring in the room, something feels different. Then I’m reminded of what Thane and I did last night, and I can’t believe it really happened.

Resting my hand against my forehead, I roll to my side and find what I thought would be a heavy weight of regret weighing on me isn’t there.

Instead, I find contentment bursting inside me. The relief I’ve been searching for is so strong and reassuring; it’s almost scary. Reaching on my nightstand for the picture of Ben that I sometimes hang my necklace on with our rings, I lift it up and look at him. God, it feels like so long ago since I saw him.

Closing my eyes as I clutch the rings, I hold them against my chest and study his face. I can almost hear his laugh. Jesus, all we did was laugh; he was so funny and goofy. Lifting the photo, I kiss his face and then set it back down.

My phone chimes and I grab it to see a text from Thane. I can’t wait to see you, he messages me, along with a picture of a sunrise. Me too. Thank you for last night, I message him back, thinking about what we did.

Right away he responds, Are you kidding me? Thank you! Was it okay?

Yeah. I liked it.

Good, me too.

Where are you?I ask, curiously, wanting to know where he is as I thought he was flying all day.

Just landed at LAX, then I’ll be home. Can I see you?

Yes!I respond, probably a little too quickly. But I haven’t done this since I was in high school, so I don’t know how to be. What I do know is that Thane likes me for who I am, so I’m not going to change or question things. Like last night, I was scared and nervous, but I pushed through and followed my gut, and because of that, I’m really happy.

I can’t wait, Faye.

Staring at my phone, my stomach is full of butterflies. I can’t wait either.

Hopping out of bed, I go to wake Braxley, but he’s already up, sitting on the floor of his room eating cereal out of the box as he watches cartoons. “Morning, baby.”

“Hi, Mommy.”

“How’d ya sleep?” I ask him kissing the top of his hair as he stares at the television and then sit next to him.

“Okay.” He seems a little more quiet than usual—withdrawn—as if something’s bothering him, so I ask, “Are you feeling okay today?”

“Yeah. I miss Daddy.”

“Oh, baby,” I pull him into a tight hug, holding his tiny body close against my chest. “So do I; so do I.”

“When can I see him again?”

Tears fill my eyes, listening to his words, and I search for the right answer, but I can’t find it. “I…I…”

Please, Lord, give me strength.

“Honey, you’ll see your daddy one day in heaven, but that won’t be for a very long time.”

“But what if I want to talk to him now?”

“You can always talk to him; he’s listening.”

“But I can’t see him.”

“No, you can’t.”

I blink a few times wishing I could give him something more, another way to connect with Ben. Then it hits me, and I imagine taking him with me to Ben’s gravesite. But I don’t know if I can. When he was buried, Braxley was so young. I don’t think he remembers, or at least we haven’t talked about it. But he’s asking now, and it is my responsibility as his mother to help him through these things.

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