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She held out her hand, and I grabbed it and pulled her up. With the sounds of the African drums and chanting flooding the air around us, we started dancing wildly around the fire just like we had that night in Africa. We let our bodies free to move to the pull of the beat, and we lost ourselves in one another. We laughed and leaped around, our bond growing deeper with each step we took, then we reached out and grabbed each other’s hands. As we skipped around the fire, our hands and hearts intertwined, I felt our connection deepen, and I knew more than ever what I’d already known before.
We belonged together.
I smiled across the flames at the three faces grinning back at me—the faces of my three best friends.
My sisters.
My Wilder Widows.
The women who had changed my life in ways I’d never be able to truly comprehend. The women I owed all of my happiness to ... happiness that wouldn’t exist without them in my life every day. They had saved me, and I had saved them. We had forged an unbreakable bond that I knew would be there as long as we lived.
And live we would. We would live wild and free together. For adventure. For love. For friendship. Always pushing each other to experience everything life had to offer, and always supporting each other as we went out and made our wildest wishes come true.
But my greatest wish had already come true.
I had them.
Forever.
