And I hate that I even want to.
ChapterFifty-Five
Stevie
Icall in sick to work on Monday, permitting myself one more day to fall apart. I probably should have returned home this morning, but Beck has gone to the office, and I have his place to myself. He told me to make myself at home, so I take a bath in his clawfoot tub, crying an endless stream of tears as The Carpenters play in the background while I sip a glass of wine. I know alcohol isn’t the answer and I can’t make this a habit, but I’m giving myself today to wallow.
Tomorrow, I’ll try to pull myself together.
Hadley drops off a bag with some of my clothes en route to the university to take her first exam. I manage to dry my eyes while she’s here. The last thing she needs to worry about the week of finals is her mess of a roommate.
After she leaves, I change into gray sweats and a white tank, pull my hair into a messy bun, and lounge on the recliner in my room. I have my AirPods in, and I’m listening to the playlist Garrick made for me while I scroll through photos of us on my phone through blurry eyes.
If I’d known Saturday morning was the last time I’d see my love, I would have said so much more. I would have told him how much he brightened up my world and how gray it feels without him in it. I would have reminded him he’s my everything and told him to keep fighting to come back to me. I would have told him how empty I feel without his love and how much I regret keeping distance between us.
Since the accident, I have questioned everything I thought I knew about my future and what I want from life. I realized too late that Garrick was right. My career goals mean little without him in my life. Why was I so determined to wait until I was thirty to get married and have kids?
You can’t plan every aspect of life to the nth degree.
The accident proves that point in the most devastating way.
Life is short, and you need to make the most of it.
Ineed to make the most of it.
I should have made Garrick my priority.
I should have taken out a student loan and stayed at UO for senior year with my boyfriend and then moved to Seattle with him when we had graduated. Then I could have focused on my career goals with the man I love by my side.
I hate it took this tragedy for me to wake up and understand what is truly important in life.
I enjoy my work, and I give it my all, but I have given no consideration to starting my own business. I’m not sure it’s even what I want to do anymore. Nothing matters in the same way. Family and friends are the only things that matter.
Picking up the special edition book Beck gave me, I open it to the first page and reread the inscription through my tears. I haven’t stopped reading it since Beck gifted the book to me, and it never fails to warm my frozen heart.
To Stevie,
No one has ever believed in me like you do. No one inspires me as much as you do. Although we met under tragic circumstances, I am so grateful we found one another. Thank you for understanding and sharing my passion. As a writer, I should have the words to properly convey how much it means to me, yet they simply don’t exist in the English language.
I adore you.
Love, Beck.
It’s even more special that he signed his own name. Placing his trust in me like this is huge. I don’t think I would have survived these past couple nights if Beck hadn’t helped me through it. I can’t even contemplate how much bleaker my life would be without him.
Clutching the book to my chest, I close my eyes and cry as song after song plays in my ears.
That is how Beck finds me when he returns at lunch to check in. Sympathy splays across his face when he lifts me from my chair, cradling me in his arms as he carries us over to the bed.
With great tenderness, he lays me down on the comfy mattress before kicking off his shoes and removing his suit jacket and joining me. He gently pries the book from my hands with a shy smile and places it on the bedside table. Then he pulls me into his arms, and I go willingly, sobbing into his chest as he holds me tight. His large palm runs up and down my back, and he dots kisses into my hair as I fall apart.
It feels horribly mean to cry to him over another man, but he never criticizes or turns me away. He shares my pain, my grief, and my anger at the situation, and he is there for me no matter what I need. He is such a good man. Right up there with Garrick in the gentleman rankings.
I don’t know how long we stay like that because I fall asleep. My crying jaunt has exhausted me. When I wake, Beck is still here. His protective arms are wrapped around me, and his lips are pressed to my temple. “Are you hungry?” he whispers, brushing wispy strands of hair off my brow. “You’ve been asleep for hours.”
“I’m sorry,” I croak through my scraped throat. “Did you get in trouble with work?”
He shakes his head. “I took the afternoon off. I wanted to be here for you.”
