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I didn’t.
I’m not going to lie. I thought about it. But, the truth is, I’ve decided that the internal turmoil Amber is experiencing now—and will for the rest of her life—is punishment enough. After all, what goes around always comes back around, doesn’t it? In Amber’s case, it’s come back around in her forever-title of mistress of a murderer, and also in her child of a serial killer.
So instead, I snuck over to Amber’s house in the middle of the night—to avoid being spotted by the media—to forgive her. To get my closure, to take the first step in letting everything go. When you forgive, you heal. I read that quote while in prison. It resonated with me.
I want to heal and I want to start over.
Today is day one of starting over.
Kellan reaches over and lays his hand over mine. Smiling, I thread my fingers through his, and with my other hand, trace the veins on the back of his hand. He has such manly, sexy hands.
“We’re boarding.”
Little butterflies tickle my stomach. The same ones that awaken every time he looks at me in that way… which, really, is every time.
I glance down at the text on my phone showing a picture of Banjo, sprawled out on an expensive leather couch, asleep, tongue lolling.
Kellan grins. “We might never get that dog back.”
I type a response.
Me: Thanks, again, Chris. For everything, and for watching Banjo for us. And please tell Emma we said hi. Keep me updated on my buddy. We’re boarding.
I slide my phone into my pocket and take a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
Kellan and I stand together, and hand in hand, step onto the jet bridge.
“Now boarding first class, Delta flight 5264, to Paris, France …”
*
