I want more than anything is to one day ask you to be my wife. To hear a beautiful, blue-eyed girl call you her mommy, to wake every morning with you cuddled in my arms. I will protect you, Pearl, until I take my last breath.” Her thumbs were swiping near my lips, and I kissed one as it passed across my mouth. “We have nothing but time to make those dreams come true.”
“A child.” She swallowed, the emotion welling in her throat. “Our child.”
I wiped under her eyes as they continuously overflowed. She slid her arms around my neck, and I held her tightly on top of our mountain. Our breaths matched, emotion pounding from our insides.
I knew things wouldn’t always be easy. As the weeks passed, more challenges would arise. New fears would present themselves. Pearl’s road to recovery would be rocky as hell. But I wasn’t afraid of those unknowns. We would solve them together, and Dylan would help me with each one.
But I also knew something greater was in control, and it didn’t take standing on top of Cadillac Mountain to feel it. I’d felt that sensation from the moment I had run into her in the hall at BU. When she’d glanced up at me with those innocent eyes and lips so pouty that I couldn’t drag my stare away.
This girl was always meant to be mine.
“I love you.”
It was as though I’d said those words myself.
But I hadn’t.
They had come from Pearl’s lips.
I squeezed her even harder and whispered, “Baby, I love you too.”
Epilogue
Pearl
Sixteen months. That was how long it had taken for me to come here. Even though I’d envisioned this visit almost daily and I’d talked about it with Marlene several times a week, there were very few things I could have done to prepare myself for this moment. For what it would feel like when I saw the headstone of someone I loved so deeply. For when I would sit on the grass that grew above her casket, breathing in air that was so close to her body.
Like I was doing now.
My life was still so scheduled, but coming here had been spontaneous. A feeling I had woken up with while Ashe’s arms were clasped around me. Now that I was here, I expected to feel a weight lift off my chest, my lungs to open and turn lighter.
That didn’t happen.
But there was a warmth in the breeze as it passed over my face, and it reminded me of the way her hand used to hold my cheek. The sunrays were like her gentle kisses. The tingles in my ears like her tender voice.
Baby, I could hear her say in my head.
She knew I wasn’t ready for dollface. Even if that man was spending the rest of his life in prison with no chance of parole, that word needed to be locked away.
At least for now.
Esther Daniels
Grandmother, mother, and best friend
I traced my finger over each of the engraved letters along with the dates in which she had been alive. The stone felt so hard and cold—things she was not. And so final. But the same way she had known I wasn’t dead, I knew that she was.
I could feel it.
An emptiness where her breath used to live in my heart.
I rested my forehead on her headstone, my hand gripping the top, tasting the tears as they hit my parted lips.
Gran.
I know I don’t have to apologize for taking so long to come here. You’re watching; you know. Just like I know you were with me in the prison, holding my hand the whole time, giving me strength.
I took a breath.
I dream about your arms. They were different than anyone else’s I’d ever felt. They had this way of holding me, like a shield, and when they were around me, I would forget every thought in my head. The softness of your skin would soothe me. The way your hand cupped my cheek would give me a peace where I knew, no matter what, everything was going to be all right.
I missed those hands.
Those hugs.
Oh God, Gran, I miss you.
I want you to know I’ve been channeling some of your strength as I’ve been writing. For a few hours a day, I sit in front of my computer, and I type small parts of my story that will eventually lead to the entire tale. I don’t know if I’m doing it just for me and the story will only ever live