It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,79

such anguish, I let go of my anger and went to him. Wrapping my arms around his decaying and trembling body, I held him.

“Daisy,” he choked out. “You were the best and most beautiful thing in my life. As much as I hurt you, I was so blessed to have had your love—to still have your love, even though I don’t deserve it. I would have never left voluntarily. You need to believe me even if you can’t forgive me.”

“I believe you. I forgive you,” I whispered as I tried to remember what Steve had smelled like when he was alive. Ghosts had no scent. It saddened me that I couldn’t remember. “What exactly do you need me to do before you can move on?”

Steve laid his head on my shoulder. “I need you to find love—real love with a man who can give you what I never could. I need you to feel whole, Daisy.”

I closed my eyes and groaned. “Steve, you might be here for decades then. I’m not sure that will ever happen. After this morning, I’m not sure what part of my life is fact and what’s fiction.”

“It can happen,” he said softly. “We have to make it happen.”

“We?” I asked, feeling strangely back to normal with my gay dead husband who wanted to help me get laid… or loved. Neither were going to happen anytime soon.

My mind drifted to Gideon. I knew I could sleep with him if I wanted to, but he came with baggage that was dangerous and possibly deadly. I was smarter than that. There was no way I would road test my new womanly wholeness with the Grim Reaper.

“Yes. We,” Steve said with a chuckle. “We are going to find you a straight Prince Charming. It’s what you deserve.”

I pulled back and looked at my best friend. “And that wouldn’t bother you at all—to see me happy with another man?”

Steve pressed his lips together and made his sound. “No,” he said with a genuine smile. “It would give me peace that I’d finally done right by the woman I love.”

“Loved,” I corrected him.

“No, Daisy,” Steve said with sad smile. “Love. I will love you forever. Death can’t change that.”

“And I love you too,” I said, thinking maybe I wouldn’t have to throw away all of my memories.

The horrible ones of being gently rejected when I’d tried to seduce my husband were definitely on the burn pile. However, now that I knew why, it didn’t hurt quite as much… or at least not in the same way. Therapy would be helpful, but admitting to how I got my information was a no-no. It was unbelievable and wouldn’t be wise.

Maybe I could talk to Heather…

Maybe Gram…

Maybe no one.

Or maybe I would just keep talking to Steve. We could work through it together like we should have a few decades ago. As horrible as what he’d done was, he’d also given me a gift in coming back to tell me. I now knew that there was nothing wrong with me sexually. I’d also spent twenty years being completely adored by another person. And I adored him right back.

Nothing was ever black and white—completely good or totally bad. Shades of gray were what most of life was.

Steve was dead now. I didn’t know how much time we would have together to make our past right, but he was wrong about my future. I’d convince him of that soon. I was good. I liked myself. I liked myself more every single day.

I was strong, kind and loyal. I had friends I would take a bullet for and a Gram who loved me as much as I loved her.

I had two furry dogs—or at least one dog and one questionable little beast—and I loved them.

My new job was going to be a joy.

And my hobby of helping my squatters find peace? That made me feel like a freaking superhero.

I was truly fine. Steve would believe me. He would see it and he’d have peace.

Watching him leave me again would be hard. But having him here now… and knowing the truth?

That was the biggest gift of all.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Daisy girl, did you know that booby trap spelled backward is party boob?” Gram asked, slapping her leg with delight.

I shook my head and smiled. “I take it Jennifer visited you?” I asked, knowing how Jennifer and Gram loved to trade useless information that registered on the same intelligence level as a fourth-grade boy. I loved how much my friends adored