Beyond The Roses - Monica James Page 0,109

is lonesome, he can unlock each one, remembering the impact our love had on the world.

“Are you scared?” His voice floats across the still night, giving me comfort for what’s ahead.

“Not right now,” I reply, closing my eyes and burying my face into his neck.

“Why?” He continues swaying, the movement lulling me into a comfortable state.

“Because…you’re holding my hand.”

A pained breath escapes him. He’s biding his time. “I promise…I’ll never let go. No matter where you go…I’ll find you. I love you. So much.”

“I know,” I whisper, the darkness beginning to conquer the light. But I’m not scared. I have saved the man I love, so I am finally free. With shallow breath, my parting words are my final bow. “Lead with your heart…and you’ll find me. Always.”

There is no more pain or uncertainty. All that is left is love…

“Chase me!” The sparkle of a child’s carefree laughter reminds us of the simplicity to life. I sometimes forget what that feels like.

“Owen, go play with your sister!” Owen crosses his chubby arms across his chest, pouting. So stubborn, just like his father. He complies a second later, however, chasing after his younger sister.

The sun is balmy against my aged skin, but I lost the ability to stay warm long ago.

My weary body creaks as I lower myself to the rich soil, but I ignore the ache, the memories overriding any pain. This garden has provided me endless hours of comfort. Coming here is like coming home.

Strawberry Fields has never looked more beautiful. The sweet perfume of roses transports me back in time, and I close my eyes, revisiting my favorite memory of all.

“Lead with your heart…and you’ll find me. Always.”

And she was right. She always was.

We danced the night away with her tucked snugly in my arms. If I dig deep enough, I can almost taste, feel, smell her—I long to feel her just one more time. That miraculous evening was the last night we spent together.

After I took her home, we made love one final time. The next morning, she slipped into a deep coma, which she succumbed to three days later. Her dying wish was for me to take her heart, but the thought was too heinous to even comprehend.

I knew she would go when she was ready. Lola never did anything she didn’t want to do. So I sat with her, holding her hand. I promised never to let go, and I didn’t. Seeing the person you love more than life itself slip away before your eyes does something to you. I didn’t see the point in living if the person who made your life worth living was gone.

I tried to grapple with the reality that I would live once she was gone, thanks to her. But I didn’t want to be here without her. So with my mind made up, I waited, waited to be reunited with my one true love.

But in true Lola Van Allen fashion, she fought until the bitter end, speaking to me on the cusp of death. My mother knew my decision, and she didn’t push, but she said Lola wanted me to have something, hoping that I would make the right choice.

When she handed me Lola’s journal and Sadie’s necklace, I knew that even from beyond the grave, she wouldn’t let this go. That journal was my savior. It felt like Lola was reading me her words. A lost, scared woman wrote the first entry, but each page detailed her strength, her growth.

I laughed; I cried. I never felt more loved than I did when reading how I appeared through Lola’s eyes.

The last page I read on the very last day. I was holding off, knowing that whatever was scrawled upon that page had the ability to change my mind in a heartbeat…and it did.

I watched Lola’s life begin to fade away, and before it was too late, I opened the book, realizing the ending was only the beginning.

Who knew one simple word could change a person’s life forever. But in our case, that word was forever ours.

Live.

It may not have been poetic, but that one word changed my mind. I would do this for her. I would live in her honor, her heart becoming ours.

“Dad, are you all right?” My son’s voice brings me back to the present, reminding me that I stayed true to Lola’s words—I lived.

The transplant was a success. Her heart now drummed within my chest. Each strong beat was a reminder of everything I not only

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