A Beautiful Funeral (The Maddox Brothers #5) - Jamie McGuire Page 0,67
autopilot, letting me lead him outside. We sat down on the top step and listened to the birds whistling, the wind pushing through the leaves on the trees, and watched the cars drive by. It was a beautiful, sunny summer day. It should have been pouring rain from gray skies, but instead, the storm was inside. Taylor’s cheeks were wet from silent tears, and I felt myself growing desperate.
“I know this is probably the worst time for this, but I have to. I’m going to say something that I wanted to say the other night, so I don’t want you to think there is any other reason for this than me telling you of a decision I’ve already made,” I said.
“Falyn.” He waited several seconds before speaking again. I was afraid he would tell me to shut up because he didn’t want to hear anything from me. That anything I had to say would be of little importance to him that day, and I couldn’t be mad because he would be right. “If you tell me you want a divorce right now, I’m warning you … I might just walk into the street and lay there.”
I couldn’t help but smile, but it faded. “I don’t want a divorce.”
His eyes met mine, and he really saw me for the first time in hours. “You don’t?”
I shook my head. “I love you. And you’re right. We should work on this together, not apart. It’s not doing anyone any favors, particularly the kids, and …”
“I think I’m hearing you say that when we get home, we’re not separated anymore.” He waited, cautiously optimistic.
“I’m saying we’re not separated anymore.”
“Anymore? You mean now?”
“Yes.”
“As in right now?” he asked, still unsure.
“If that’s okay with you. I don’t mean to assume.”
He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands, leaning forward almost onto his toes.
“Be careful,” I said, holding him back by the arm.
He puffed out a cry, and then he pulled me into his arms. Soon, he began to sob, and I held him. The muscles in my back began to burn, but I didn’t dare move. If he needed me, I would sit in that position for the rest of the day, holding him.
His shoulders stopped shaking, and he took in two deep breaths, pulling back and wiping his eyes. I’d never seen him in so much pain. Not even the night I left. “I do love you,” he said with a faltering breath. “And I’m going to be better. I can’t lose you, too. It’ll break me, Falyn … I might already be broken.”
I leaned over to kiss his cheek and then the corner of his mouth. He stiffened, unsure what to do, worried to do the wrong thing. I pressed my lips against his, once and then again. The third time I parted my lips, he kissed me back, holding each side of my face. We hadn’t touched in months, and once we started, we couldn’t stop. We were crying and kissing, hugging and making promises, and it felt right.
Taylor held his forehead to mine, breathing hard, relieved but once again cautious. “Is this for now? Is it going to be different when we get back to Colorado and go home to the same problems?”
“We’ll be working on the same problems, but it will be different.”
He nodded, a tear dripping from the tip of his nose. “It will. I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
ELLIE
I SWIPED LEFT ON MY EREADER DISPLAY, turning the page, and then adjusting my body when Tyler stirred. He’d been asleep on my right thigh for two hours, and Gavin on my left for three. I wasn’t sure why I moved. Trying to adjust after one of my boys did to make them more comfortable usually just made them uncomfortable, and they would shift again. For whatever reason, I thought I’d know what would make them more comfortable than they did, and I was almost always wrong. It was in part a control issue and maternal instinct. I needed to feel I was helping to make them comfortable, when in reality if I’d just sat still, they could have done it themselves.
I skimmed down the page, absorbing ideas about coping with death, helping others to cope with death, and the comfort in the belief held by a Ph.D. that our energies move on to the next life. I wasn’t sure if that made me a transcendental new age fruit loop, but it made me feel better, and as far as I