Page 109 of The Promise Of Rain

I dug my toes into the carpet.

Filled my lungs with the scent of her perfume.

Locked my eyes with hers.

“I’m okay,” I wheezed.

My shoulders dropped, and I rubbed a shaking hand over my face.

“Can I come to you?”she asked.

Oh, God.She’s terrified.Too many violent men held starring roles in her childhood.

I held up a finger, fighting to steady my breathing.“I’m all sweaty.Let me take a quick shower.I’ll be right back.”

Fifteen minutes later, I walked back in.

Clean sheets on the bed, the bedside lamp on, two glasses of water and a plate piled high with thick slices of sourdough bread smothered with jam.

And her.

The remaining tension leached out of me.

She threw back the covers and patted the bed beside her.

We didn’t speak while we ate, but she plastered herself to my side.When the plate was empty, she cleared everything to her dresser then crawled back into bed beside me.

“Tell me.”

I winced, ready to refuse.

“Tell me,” she urged, her voice soft but insistent.

I lay down on my side and pulled her back to my chest.

Starting from the beginning, I told her about the dream.

Then I told her all about Charlie.

I swallowed past the grief strangling my throat.“It was just a training exercise, but it was supposed to be me up there.He’d just found out his wife was expecting.He was boiling over with excess energy, and he asked to take my place.”

“Baby,” she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.“I’m so sorry.”

I nodded, sticking my face in her hair, filling my nose with her sweet fragrance rather than the stench of smoke and twisted steel and blood that stayed with me.

I breathed her in.

She trailed her nails up and down the arm I anchored around her ribs.

Her peace stole over me.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I admitted.“And I feel guilty that I’m happy here with you while he never even got a chance to hold his kid.”

She was quiet for a moment, then I felt her ribs expand.

“For a long time, I believed there was something inherently wrong with me.Ansel showed me that’s not true, but that belief is buried so deep and wrapped around so much of me that I’m not sure it can be yanked out without destroying something else; something good.”

She paused.“If you weren’t meant to be here, you wouldn’t be.That’s the truth.But maybe there’s something wrapped up in your belief that he should be here that’s good.Maybe you’re not meant to yank it out entirely.Maybe it doesn’t mean what you think it does.”