“Honestly,” she says, peering up at me. “I think if that happens, then I’ll know we tried, and I’d be more than content to live out the rest of my days married to you here. I’m realizing that home for me is wherever you are. You?”
She thinksIfeel like home. My heart leaps in my chest and then dips down into my stomach.
“Yeah, Sugar, I think I’d be good with that too.”
My heart rate begins to build, and my mouth goes dry.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, sensing my shift and slowing our dance.
“I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, but I do need you to know that I love you.”
Her breath hitches.
“I’ve been wanting to say it, and I don’t expect for you to say?—”
“I love you too,” she says, smiling.
“You do?”
“Yeah. I love you so much,” she repeats.
My mouth finds hers in a passionate kiss, the snow continuing to fall, and the whole world blurs into swirls of pink around us.
Chapter 42: Could It Be?
Claire
December Eighteenth
Laying in bed, I try to ignore all the sounds coming from outside my window—dogs barking, people shouting, horns honking, and an ambulance siren blaring. The sunlight pouring through the blinds causes me to squint as I fumble to grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time. It’s not even eight in the morning.
Groaning, I shut my eyes tightly and shift backward in the bed, expecting to nuzzle against my sleeping husband, but I don’t feel him behind me. Flipping over, confusion overtakes me. Instead of Everett, I’m met with a pile of cream and olive blankets and pillows gathered into a messy pile.
Cream and olive. Not pink.
Sitting up, my pulse begins to race as I take in the room I’m in. I’m on a large king-sized bed with a rattan headboard and black trim. The neutral colored bedding is gathered around me. The bed is framed by two large, black, wooden bedside tables. Each is adorned with a large ceramic lamp. My alarm clock and a photo of me with my sister sit on the nightstand to my left.
“Everett!” I yell.
Nothing.
This is my apartment in New York, and Everett isn’t here. He’s gone.
Reaching for my phone, I frantically search for his phone number, but it’s not there. My chest aches as I try to think through the night before, and nothing makes sense. Why would he leave?
Swiping through my contacts, I click on my sister’s name. It begins to ring, and a mix of emotions washes over me when I hear her voice.
“Hello,” she says, groggily.
“Andi?”
There’s a pause, and the sound of her moving in bed to sit up to talk to me comes through the phone.
“Uh, yeah, who else would it be?” She ends her question with a yawn.
“I just…I wasn’t expecting you to answer… I’ve missed you so much.” The words spill out frantically as I try to deduce what’s happened.
I should be happy that I woke up in my own bed. I should be relieved to finally talk to my sister, but I’m none of those things. If I can’t have him in this world too, then I don’t want to be here.
