Page 85 of The Air He Breathes (Elements 1)

“Doing what right?”

“Falling in love.”

“It’s too soon…” I said, my voice shaky.

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. Society? What’s the amount of time you’re supposed to have before starting to fall in love again?”

“People say a lot of things and give you all kinds of unwanted advice and tips on how to mourn. They tell you not to date for years, to let time pass, but that’s the thing with love—time doesn’t exist with it. The only thing love counts is the heartbeats. If you love him, don’t get in your own way. Just allow yourself to feel again.”

“There’s something that I have to tell him. Something terrible, and I think I’ll lose him.”

She frowned. “Whatever it is, he’ll understand if he cares for you the way you care for him.”

“Mama.” Tears fell from my eyes, and I stared into the eyes that mirrored mine. “I thought I lost you forever.”

“I’m sorry I left, baby.”

I pulled her into a hug. “It doesn’t matter. You came back.”

>

Tristan drove us home from the wedding after I had one too many glasses of wine, and Emma passed out in her car seat as soon as we left. We didn’t speak to one another, but so much was said when my hand, which had been alone for so long, tangled with Tristan’s fingers.

My eyes couldn’t move away from staring at our touch. I lifted our hold up and lightly placed my lips against his hand. How could I tell him about Steven and the accident?

How do I begin to say goodbye?

He glanced over to me and gave me his half smile. “You’re drunk?”

“A little.”

“You’re happy?” he asked.

“A lot.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I think my feet are a bit bruised from Emma stepping on my feet so much, but I loved it.”

“She’s crazy about you,” I said, staring at his lips.

His eyes studied the darkened road as he replied, “I adore her.”

Oh my heart. It stopped. Or sped up. Maybe both all at once.

I kissed his hand once more. My fingers traced every line that wound across his palm.

When we pulled up in front of my house, Tristan lifted Emma from her car seat and carried her to her bedroom. As he laid her down, I stood in the doorway watching. He took off her shoes and placed them at the foot of her bed.

“I should probably head home,” he said, walking toward me.

“Yeah, probably.”

He smiled. “Thanks again for tonight. It was great.” He placed a small kiss on my forehead and stepped past me to leave. “Goodnight, Lizzie.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”