Hollow (Heaven Hill Generations #4) - Laramie Briscoe Page 0,47

life back, and I’ll never forget it.

I’ll always be thankful for it, and I’ll never again take the days for granted.

The Mandy who leaves here is going to be a different Mandy than anyone, including myself, has ever known, and I can’t wait.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dalton

Who knew I would be this nervous? Driving Mandy’s SUV to Magnolia Behavioral Health, my hands sweat as they grip the wheel. It’s warm today, warmer than it should be and the sun is shining brightly. Maybe I should have driven my bike.

I’m happy.

Happy that her coming home day is bright. Unlike the day she left.

Such darkness overtook all of us, I had worried we wouldn’t be able to come out the other side of it, but we have. It hasn’t been easy and I don’t think it ever will be. As I get older I’m beginning to learn life isn’t meant to be easy. It’s messy, full of things that don’t make sense, but all of that stuff turns into beauty if you’re willing to wait.

If you’re willing to let it marinate and become entrenched in itself. Just like we’ve let Mandy have the time to become the person she’s always been. With a little help and some direction, I’m feeling more optimistic about our future together than I ever have.

Pulling into the parking lot, I take a deep breath, letting it wash through and over me. This is it. The beginning of the rest of our lives.

I refuse to let us fail.

I refuse to let her fall.

This woman is going to know how much she’s loved, and I’ll never again let her push me away.

I’m in such a hurry, I don’t even remember getting out and walking to the front door, but before I know it, I’m in the lobby, talking to the same receptionist that was here the last time. “My wife is coming home today,” I announce proudly.

She smiles at me, not in that sad way that most people do, in a way full of pride. Like she’s proud of Mandy too.

“Let me call down and see if she’s ready. You can wait right over there.” She points to an area with some seating and a TV.

No way can I sit down right now, no way can I pretend this is not one of the most important moments of my damn life. Adrenaline runs through me as I anticipate seeing her again. Pacing up and down the tiled floor is the only thing I can do. It’s a mosaic pattern, much like the craziness that’s been our lives since Travis was killed.

But I notice that pattern eventually morphs into a straight line of white tile.

Hopefully that’s a metaphor for what our life is going to become. I don’t mind hills and valleys, but a straight line for a little while? I would love that.

“D!”

Her voice. My God her voice. I’ve heard it in my dreams, when I’ve wanted to tell her something over the past few weeks, and even when I’ve been alone. There have been times when I could’ve sworn she was right there with me. Turning around, I see her face, bright and happy, a small suitcase and her purse next to her.

Don’t run, walk.

My heart overrides my brain.

Scoop her up and never let go.

That’s exactly what I do. Twirling her around the area, burying my face in her throat when she leans back to laugh. We’re in our own little world, but eventually I hear a voice clear.

“Oh yeah, Dalton.” Mandy tries to compose herself. “You remember Dr. Crawford.”

Dropping one arm from around Mandy’s waist, I reach out and clasp hands with the doctor. “Nice to see you again, thank you for helping my wife.”

“She’s been a pleasure to help. I’ll tell you like I told Mandy, there’s an open invitation for if she needs help again, or even just to talk through certain parts of life. My information is in her discharge packet. If either of you need it, my services are here for you separately or together. You two have a really bright future in front of you.”

Hearing her say the things I’ve always thought makes my throat tighten. “Thank you,” I tell her again.

She winks at Mandy. “Go on, get outta here. No reason for you to be here anymore, girl.”

Mandy lets go of me and hugs her tightly, before I grab her suitcase, and together we walk out of Magnolia Behavioral Health holding hands.

We’re on the interstate heading south to Bowling Green, I stopped at Sonic