After experiencing a life-altering tragedy, Emersyn feels as if her world has collapsed. Attempting to accept her new reality, Emersyn wonders how she can possibly keep going when it feels like her life ended months ago. Until she meets Haven, and s...
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When I wake, I feel as if I have gotten no rest at all.
I rub at my eyes and rise groggily before immediately turning to the nightstand and reaching for my phone. Tyler has texted me sporadically throughout the night, the most recent message from merely an hour ago. All of the updates consist of nothing new. Haven has still not regained consciousness.
I sigh as I set the phone down. The pit in my stomach deepens, turning vast and dark. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly and try to focus on breathing. I inhale hope and exhale doubt. It does not help.
Mom is in the kitchen when I finally find the strength to get out of bed and pad out into the hallway. She looks as if she has had a restless night as well. Her face is puffy, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She offers a smile, though her expression is hollow.
I take a seat at the island. Mom slides me a mug of coffee.
"Did you get any sleep, honey?"
I shrug and sip from the steaming mug wordlessly.
Mom nods as if she understands. I suppose she does.
Setting down her own mug, Mom gestures to the pan I left sitting on the counter overnight with a raised brow. She opens her mouth to spout the question I already know is coming.
I cut her off by explaining, "Beau brought it over last night."
Mom raises her eyebrows. For a moment, a bit of light has returned to her features. A surge of peace courses through my veins. Even amidst all of this chaos, it is nice to see her semi-happy.
"Well. That was . . . thoughtful of him," Mom murmurs. I know that she wants to elaborate as well as I know she is carefully choosing her words for my sake.
"It was thoughtful," I admit. Mom is clearly shocked by my words, though trying not to seem so outwardly.
I continue, "It's okay . . . if you're ready. And I'm sorry. For how I acted earlier. I get it now, really. If you were to ever start dating again, it wouldn't mean you're letting go of Dad. I know that now. And if you want that, I want it for you too. I don't want you to be . . . alone."
Mom eyes me for a brief moment in silence. Her eyes turn indecipherable, swarming with multitudes of undechiphered emotion. When she smiles, her lips are soft and full of love.
"I'm not alone, Em," she says. "I have you. And thank you. If I'm ever ready, it means a lot to me to know that you feel that way. But for now . . . you're all I need."
Mom crosses the room until she is standing before the chair I occupy. When she envelops me in her arms, I do not retract. I melt into her warmth, allowing myself to be held the way I have longed for since I was a child. I grasp her tightly and close my eyes, savoring the comfort I feel in the solace of my mother's arms.
"Any updates on Haven?" Mom questions once we pull away, after what feels like seconds and light years all at once.
My vision burns as I shake my head. A lump has suddenly formed in my throat. The pit in my stomach grows stronger.
