Page 54 of Until August

What a burden to put on someone’s shoulders.

And yet, I believed that if anyone could carry the weight, it was August.

My tears soaked the cotton of his shirt, and underneath the palm of my hand, I could feel his heart beating strong and steady.

The rhythm soothed me, and eventually, I stopped shaking, and my tears dried.

But August didn’t let me go. He held on like we were on a sinking ship and our lives depended on it.

We stayed like that, frozen in time for minutes or maybe hours. With my face buried in his chest and his hand stroking my hair.

His other arm was wrapped around me like a steel band holding all my broken pieces together.

When I pulled back and wiped the tears off my cheeks, I peered up at him, wondering what he must think of me now. I’d bared my soul to this man, but there was no judgment on his face, only understanding.

He brushed a piece of hair off my face and caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, his touch gentle. As if I was made of spun sugar, and he was afraid I’d shatter in his hands.

“You can’t spend the rest of your life punishing yourself.” He cupped my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. He wanted me to hear the words and believe them. “You had no idea what the outcome would be. Not even doctors know for certain. Their diagnosis is based on science. They don’t know a patient’s heart and mind, and spirit. Miraclesdohappen, Nicola. So you took a gamble. You believed he would fight to come back. That your love would be strong enough to bring him back to the other side.”

Nobody had ever presented it that way. Those were my exact thoughts when I’d made my decision. But how could he have known that? I hadn’t told him.

Then I remembered his son.

“Your son…”

He understood what I was asking without my having to finish. “My son. The doctors said it was a risky procedure but the alternative… it’s not worth thinking about. We took a risk, and luckily, it paid off.”

“Thank God,” I breathed.

He nodded. “Unfortunately, your risk didn’t pay off, but you did what you thought was rightat that time. And that’s all we can ever do, Nicola.Lifeis a risk. But if you’re not taking risks, you’re not really living. And what’s the alternative?”

“You just gotta keep fighting the good fight,” I said, repeating his words. “It’s either that or take a dirt nap.”

“Exactly. The world needs your scallops with blood orange sauce.”

We laughed.

I was so grateful to this man for listening and saying everything I needed to hear.

“Guilt has never changed the outcome of anything,” he said quietly. “Forgive yourself.”

As if it was that easy. I carried my guilt with me everywhere and wore it like a badge. But it sounded as if he wasn’t only talking about me but about himself.

“How about you? Have you forgiven yourself?” My voice came out hoarse from all the crying.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

Sharing my story didn’t really change anything. My husband was still in a long-term care facility. My sister-in-law still refused to speak to me. My husband’s best friend still believed I should get a court order. My parents still talked as if Cruz would magically wake up one day and return to his regularly scheduled life.

Which they’d discussed over dinner tonight, making me wish I’d just let my father disown me for not making an appearance.

But oddly, I felt better after spilling my guts and crying another river. Lighter, somehow. As if I’d shirked off some of the guilt and blame like a suit that didn’t fit me anymore.

I didn’t fool myself into thinking it would be easy or that I would wake up tomorrow feeling like everything was right with the world.

My husband was brutally ripped away from me, and I would always grieve that loss.

But I’d been stuck in this holding pattern for so long, incapable of moving forward.