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Chapter 1
Hailey
K
I
A
Three measly letters that made up one acronym you’d never want to hear when it came to your loved one.
Your best friend.
Your husband.
Your soulmate.
And your child’s father.
Even worse to hear was, “We weren’t able to recover Vince’s body.”
So now, not only had I lost the only man I ever loved, but I didn’t have a body to bury. To visit. To remember.
It was stupid to be mad about it because Vince never wanted to be buried. He wanted to be cremated. He didn’t want me to feel obligated to visit a grave or headstone at a cemetery. He wanted me to remember him and our life together. To always keep our love alive in my memory.
The Saturday sky was bright blue and filled with fluffy white clouds. Hudson sat in his playpen while I tended to my vibrant garden. Bright pops of color fluttered in a dance under the spray of water. A sense of hope filled me when a tiny rainbow formed as the sunlight hit the spray. I finished up and walked toward my pride and joy.
“Hudson,” I sang, opening and closing my hands in greeting. I pulled him into my arms and kissed his cheek with a loud kiss. “Mama,” I coaxed, trying to get him to repeat the word. One tiny hand cupped the side of my face as his chubby fingers of the other patted my lips. I kissed his fingers, then nuzzled his neck, inhaling his sweet baby smell. “Mama loves you so much. Yes, she does,” I said, squeezing him tight with a tickle.
His giggle was music to my ears. “Let’s go inside and get you a snack,” I told him. He smacked his lips.
I settled Hudson into his highchair and gave him his toy lion and giraffe. I popped my cold cup of tea into the microwave, then poured some Cheerios onto his tray. I laughed as he scooped some into his hand and brought them to his mouth. “Mama’s tea is ready,” I told him. I ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head before turning to the microwave. When I sat down next to Hudson, I accepted the Cheerios he wanted to feed me. “Mmm,” I said. “Thank you, Hudson.”
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught my attention. I walked to the front door. My breath caught in my throat when I looked through the open screen door. The last person I expected to see was Pete Dinsmore, one of Vince’s and my best friends. He’d only left three weeks ago. Before he left, he told me that depending on how things went, he might be gone for a couple of months. My stomach dropped when he climbed out of his car. Even from where I stood, I could tell something was off.
Dread settled in as awful memories of that fateful day almost two years ago flashed before me. The harrowing chime of the doorbell. A military car in the driveway. Sorrowful-looking officers standing on my stoop. And the words I would never get out of my head.There’s been an accident. I’m so sorry. We lost Vince.
I remember dropping my hands to my swollen belly as they told me. Vince was dead, and they hadn’t been able to recover his remains. They wouldn’t tell me anything more—I wasn’t privy to the details of the operation or what went wrong. I didn’t know anything more than something went terribly, terribly wrong. It didn’t matter in the end. The only thing that mattered to me was that Vince wasn’t coming home, and he’d never meet his son.
I opened the door before Pete had a chance to knock.
“Hailey.” My name was a rushed whisper, and the way he said it shook me to the core. All breath left my body as the blood drained from my face. The room was spinning. I couldn’t deal with more bad news. Nothing could be worse than losing Vince, but if we lost someone else we loved, I didn’t know how I would handle it. “Hey, hey,” he said as he caught me in his arms. I would have fallen to the floor if not for his quick reflexes.
I inhaled deeply, letting oxygen seep back into my system.
“How’s Hudson?” Pete asked as he helped me to the kitchen, his arm secured around my waist to keep me steady.
I perked up at the sound of my son’s name. “He’s amazing,” I said.
“Of course, he is. Look who his mom is.” I could hear the smile in Pete’s voice. “And there he is,” he said when his eyes landed on Hudson. Excited but garbled toddler noises arose as Hudson saw Pete. “Hey, little man,” he said, laughing as he attempted to meet Hudson’s pudgy hand, still clasping a fistful of Cheerios, for a high five.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked. I moved around the kitchen with no idea what to do with myself. “Lemonade?”
“You know I can’t say no to your lemonade.”
I smiled tightly, feeling like a fish out of water. “I made it fresh yesterday.” Like he cared when I made it. I was making small talk with one of my husband’s best friends. The guy who kept me afloat during the most devastating time of my life. The one man who came through when my entire world fell apart. Pete stepped in and helped me during my pregnancy and delivery. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to drop another bomb on me.
“So,” I said, “you’re back earlier than expected.” I handed him a glass and leaned against the counter.
