Page 40 of Healing Bonds

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She nuzzled closer to me, and I tightened my arms around her in turn. I was probably squeezing her too much, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Will you come to bed with me now?” she softly asked.

I stroked a hand down her spine. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I promised.

Chapter Seventeen

AMBER

Even in darkness, there was moonlight. Even when the day appeared to be gloomy, the sun was ready to brighten the day.

When I was ready to give in to the darkness, Ryan was my moonlight, shining so brightly, I couldn’t ignore him even if I wanted to.

His light shined through my despair and self-loathing to remind me that even in darkness, there was light, regardless of when I could see it or not.

Like a moth to the flame, I stuck to him, wanting his light to burn me, to remind me of what it felt like to be in love, to want to be alive, to forgive myself for failing our child.

For the first time in months, I finally left the house. I even went as far as to put on nice clothes, brush my neglected hair, and put on a light dusting of makeup to remind myself of the woman I was before. The woman Ryan fell in love with. The woman I was before the accident and my life went to shit.

Ryan and I started small. Every night, just as the sun was setting, we would go for a walk. Rain or shine, we didn’t care. The first day, he had to pull me out the front door with soft words of reassurance that no one could see the broken person I saw every time I looked in a mirror. We made it fifteen steps.I counted every single one just as I counted my breaths to keep calm while my pulse raced and my entire body shook with fear.

On the second day, we took thirty steps. Every day, we went a little further. The whole time, Ryan held my hand, squeezed my fingers when someone walked past us, whispered how much he loved me as we spoke about mundane things, and slowly, we fell deeper in love than we had ever been before.

Every afternoon, I watched the clock, willing the minutes to pass quickly so that we could go on our walk and be reminded of what it felt like to be in love before tragedy struck. Ryan spent his days working from home now, holed up in his office doing paperwork and such. We shared a brief lunch, but he was all mine in the evenings, and so, I longed for our daily walk, where he unraveled pieces of me I had never shared with another soul.

He shared stories of war, of days where he questioned whether he would come home to me and live a normal life, and of days where he wondered if he would be alive come nightfall. I tried to stay calm, to keep my breaths steady and even, but every time my pulse raced, I froze at the thought of losing him.

Now, I understood the gravity of my words to him. The world without him would be crippling. Completely unbearable. In three months, I had only one panic attack, a slight lapse in our healing on the anniversary of Angel’s death.

It didn’t matter how hard he coaxed me, I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want to act normal, not on a day that changed our entire life, flipped it upside down and unraveled both of us.

I stayed on my side of the bed, holding myself as I cried, and eventually, he climbed into the bed with me and enveloped me in his arms, his touch warming me, soothing my soul in a way that words never could describe because my love for this gentle, strong man was infinite.

Now, three months since our almost undoing, I stared at myself in the mirror, my green eyes scrutinizing my body, my skin, my face, and my hair.

Three months since that day and my whole life had changed again. I gained back some weight, yet there were deep, black rings under my eyes from too many sleepless nights where I cried into Ryan’s chest. My eyes didn’t shine like they used to, and my clothes still hung off my frame. My curves were gone, and I worried that Ryan would notice and his love would falter.

I had to constantly shake the thoughts from my mind because Ryan didn’t love me for my body—he loved my soul, my mind, everything about me. I chanted those words as I looked over the pale pink dress that used to hug my curves in a way that made me look sexy but now was a bit too big. I had painted my face with makeup but regretted it when I didn’t recognize myself anymore. The pink sparkles on my eyelids made my eyes pop, but was the pink blush and lipstick too much? Was I trying to be someone else, someone I most definitely was not anymore?

I had cut my typically untamable red hair on a whim a few weeks ago with a YouTube tutorial. Now, it just brushed my shoulders. Ryan told me countless times that he loved it, but he also loved my hair long, when it reached just below my mid back, and today, I regretted cutting it. Would he look at me and realize he wished it was longer again?

“You ready, babe? We need to leave if you don’t want to be late.” Ryan’s voice filtered into the bathroom from our bedroom, and I dropped the pink lip gloss I was holding in fright. It clattered loudly into the sink.

He hadn’t seen me yet. What would he think? Would he think I was being too much, that I was trying too hard?

“Almost,” I managed with a shaky voice. I prayed he wouldn’t notice.

“Can I come in, baby?” I saw him in the reflection of the mirror just outside the bathroom door.

“Just a minute. I want to surprise you.”

I applied one more coat of gloss, puckered my lips, and smacked them to be sure they looked kissable. Ryan loved when I wore gloss. He claimed it made my lips a perfect target for his. I smiled at the thought, reaching for my mascara tube. I swiped the wand across my red lashes until they lengthened and darkened.

With one last glance in the mirror, I turned before I changed my mind, somewhat happy with my appearance, and headed for the door. I still needed to find my nude heels in my closet before we left.

I swung the door open and watched as his jaw dropped and then snapped closed again. His eyes grew larger as he did a once over before reaching for my waist, his big hands warming my skin through the thin fabric of the dress. I sank into his hold, thankful he seemed to like my appearance.

“Absolutely fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He touched his forehead to mine before kissing my cheek and pulling away to look at me again. “I’ll be kissing that gloss right off, babe. Just you wait.”

“Why not now?” I asked, unable to help myself.