Two hearts, two souls. Devastated by loss, united through destiny.

The rules: Communicate only through text messages and never reveal our real names or other personal details.

My name is Ean Montgomery. After the drunk-driving accident that killed my wife, son, and unborn daughter, I was forced to see a grief counselor. In an unconventional move, she gave me a private cell phone and the first initial of the name of a woman who had been widowed by the same accident. I had no intention of ever texting her but with all hope and the will to live gone, I found myself quickly slipping down the rabbit hole. Desperate, lonely, and unbelievably sad, I reached out to her and she became my everything.

Everything is excruciating! Everything is broken!

My name is Dani Adams. I was married to my college sweetheart, the love of my life. Together we were raising our four-year-old daughter and running a successful business. Then the accident happened and life as I knew it ended in the blink of an eye. I didn’t want to answer his text but I was barely hanging on by a thread and he was in tremendous pain, so I replied. And once again, my world was forever changed.

I can’t lose you, I won’t survive…

Over the course of a year, through texting alone, we bond. Friendship blossoms into something deeper. We were never supposed to meet, but fate had other plans, and in this world of loss and despair, something amazing began to grow… But can the passion we’ve found sustain itself with the deep, soul-twisting pain that never seems to fade?

Saving Each Other

Text copyright © 2017 by S. A. Terrence

Title ID 7238934

Though this is a work of fiction, a product of the author’s imagination, the names of several places mentioned are not. Please check the “Special Thanks” section at the end of the book for a list of the all the restaurants that were frequented and businesses and services that were mentioned in this story. All are highly recommended.

There are also resources at the end for information to help cope with loss. Please reach out, whether for yourself or for a friend. Help is always out there.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published by Amazon, New York www.apub.com

Amazon and the Amazon logo are trademarks of amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

Please continue reading after this story for a preview of my next book, Saving Them.

This book includes strong language and explicit sex scenes, possible trigger warnings, and is not recommended for anybody under the age of 18.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Synopsis

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue 1—Ean

Prologue 2—Dani

Chapter One—Ean

Chapter Two—Dani

Chapter Three—Ean

Chapter Four—Ean

Chapter Five—Dani

Chapter Six—Dani

Chapter Seven—Dani

Chapter Eight—Ean

Chapter Nine—Dani

Chapter Ten—Dani

Chapter Eleven—Ean

Chapter Twelve—Dani

Chapter Thirteen—Ean

Chapter Fourteen—Dani

Chapter Fifteen—Dani

Chapter Sixteen—Ean

Chapter Seventeen—Dani

Chapter Eighteen—Dani

Chapter Nineteen—Ean

Chapter Twenty—Ean

Chapter Twenty-One—Dani

Chapter Twenty-Two—Dani

Chapter Twenty-Three—Ean

Chapter Twenty-Four—Dani

Chapter Twenty-Five—Ean

Chapter Twenty-Six—Ean

Chapter Twenty-Seven—Ean

Chapter Twenty-Eight—Dani/Ean

Chapter Twenty-Nine—Dani/Ean

Chapter Thirty—Ean

Chapter Thirty-One—Dani

Chapter Thirty-Two—Ean

Chapter Thirty-Three—Dani/Ean

Chapter Thirty-Four—Dani/Ean

Chapter Thirty-Five—Dani

Epilogue—Dani

Acknowledgments

Resources

Author’s Note

Preview of Saving Them

To the men that make my life worth living. I dedicate my first book to my husband, Jeff.

You know me better than I know myself. You know all the worst parts of me, yet somehow, you still love me.

Thank you.

You’re my best friend, my true constant, and I love you.

“OUCH, YOUR KNEE!” ALYSSA EXCLAIMS.

We’re parked down by the ocean in Manhattan Beach, California, sitting in the back of my silver Jeep Grand Cherokee, facing the ocean. It’s right after the holidays, our senior year of high school, and we just had the best Christmas. Alyssa and I have been dating for over three years, and when we kissed to welcome in the new year, we made a joint resolution to lose our virginity this year. An odd resolution? Sure, but in our teenage brains it’s the perfect resolution.

I feel like I’ve waited forever to take this final step and I’m not waiting a minute longer. I know it’s not very romantic, but here we are, with the backseat folded down, trying our best to get comfortable.

“Watch your elbow,” I groan as she jabs it into my ribs.

“My elbow?” she questions while moving around in the confined space, still trying to get settled and still poking me in the process.

“Ouch,” I groan again. Then with a more resigned tone, I add, “We need more room.”

Alyssa agrees and then starts laughing. I know she’s laughing at the absurdity of the situation but I don’t care. The sound of her laughter is always music to my ears.

We met within the first month of our freshman year when the athletic department hosted a meet-and-greet for the football team and the cheerleading squad, and have been an “us” ever since. Her twinkling bright blue eyes are so full of light, and her long, golden blond hair masks the fiery fierceness that is Alyssa. One look at her was all it took and I was forever ruined for any other woman.

I knew tonight was going to be a special night. We’ve done everything under the sun but have never crossed this line. After much begging, she finally agreed tonight would be the night. Her parents are on the stricter side and have never allowed us to have much privacy. When I say not much…I mean, none at all. If we’re in her bedroom with the door closed, her mom usually knocks, very loudly, and tells us to keep it open. She says it through the closed door, almost as if she thinks she’ll find us naked on Alyssa’s bed if she came in. I wish we could be naked on her bed!

My parents are more liberal and really don’t mind us being alone in my room with the door closed but because of how Alyssa was raised, unfortunately she minds. “We’re being disrespectful to your parents,” she keeps telling me. When I tell her they’re okay with it, she just rolls her eyes and says, “But I mind.” In the end, I love Alyssa and respect her wishes, so that’s why we’re attempting to lose our virginities in the back of my Jeep.

I wanted this night to be romantic so I brought a picnic basket filled with sandwiches from our favorite sub shop and treats from our favorite bakery. I added a candle and some flowers and loaded my phone with all her favorite songs. We had a great dinner while watching the sun set and even spotted some dolphins playing in the water.

When it starts to get cooler, I close the hatch and bring out a blanket.

“It’s your elbow that’s the problem!” Alyssa complains, still squirming, still trying to get comfortable. “It’s in the way!”

“Allie,” I say, in my “serious” voice, while using my nickname for her. “It’s not my elbow I want to get in the way.”

“Eww! Ean!” She playfully swats me on the chest but then stops moving, looks at me, and sighs. “We really need to go somewhere where we can have more room,” and then, in a more somber tone, she adds, “Maybe we should wait.”

“Oh no!” I protest. “We’ve been waiting long enough and we both want it. We’ve discussed this,” I say defensively. “I’m not waiting any longer.”

“Ean,” she says quietly to get my attention. “My parents are going to be away this weekend. You already know this. Let’s wait until then. This way we can spend the entire weekend naked…in bed…together.” She whispers the last part.

I struggle for a moment but the thought is too appealing and I quickly give in.

“Sold,” I whisper back. “But can we still stay here a little while longer?”

She quickly agrees and we start kissing again, now not bothering to get comfortable. With the promise of sex planned for this weekend, I open the tailgate and we sit in companionable silence while listening to the roar of the waves as they crash against the shore while enjoying our delicious dessert.

“Can you believe we’re about to graduate?” Alyssa says, breaking the silence before taking a bite of her crumb coffee cake, the moans of her pleasure going straight to my dick. I really can’t wait for this weekend but being with her in any way is just as great. So I pull her in, close to me, and take a bite of my vanilla bean glazed donut.

“I have no idea where the time went,” I answer after swallowing.

“We had some great times, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but we’re going to have even greater times.” I wink and nudge her with my shoulder to make her aware of my double entendre.

“Hah!” She laughs and nudges me back. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” I kiss her on the temple and continue. “UCLA’s going to be epic.”

Alyssa, my best friend, Justin, and I all got accepted to UCLA and will be starting in the fall. Justin and I will be rooming together and Alyssa will be in the same dorm, on the girls’ side. I can’t wait to get started on the next chapter of our lives.

“I can’t wait to get started on the next chapter of our lives,” she says, repeating my thoughts. It’s always amazing how alike we think.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

Alyssa shivers and I pull her in even closer, covering us with the blanket. Southern California always has great weather but the nights, especially by the ocean, tend to get cool. “You cold?”

“A little,” she says, and snuggles in even closer.

I wrap the blanket tighter around her delicate shoulders, keeping her protected and warm, and whisper, “I love you, baby.”

Alyssa puts her hand over my heart and whispers back words I could listen to for the rest of my life. “I love you too, Ean.”

“FOR YOUR FIRST ASSIGNMENT, YOU will be required to team up with a partner and create a space using only green materials,” Professor Kitchener tells the class.

It’s the beginning of my junior year at UC San Diego and I’m sitting in Special Topics of Design, ready to embrace all this year has to offer. I love everything about this program. The last two years have been amazing and I’m excited to learn more.

I grew up in San Diego and stayed for my mom. My dad died in a terrible car crash when I was twelve years old. My parents each called the other “The love of my life.” They were soulmates, always kissing and touching one another whenever they were together. My mom was always giggling and my dad could never wipe off the silly grin he always wore whenever she was around.

My dad, Simon Egan, was a very handsome man, and a force to be reckoned with. Both women and men were always tripping over themselves in his presence, but he only had eyes for my mom. They were high school sweethearts. Each other’s firsts. Each other’s always, and, as they always said, each other’s last.

Dad taught music at my high school. He was incredibly creative and knew how to play several instruments. We always had music filling our home. My dad was my hero. I wanted to be exactly like him. I can play the piano well, as I’ve been playing since I was six years old, and I’m fairly decent on the guitar, but my passion is art and design. My dad was always encouraging me; he was my greatest supporter and my biggest fan. The day my dad died my mom died too, inside. Alcohol replaced him as the love of her life. I raised myself and took care of my mother. When the time came to go off to college, I didn’t have the heart to leave her alone.

“Do you want to be my partner?” the gorgeous guy who’s seated next to me asks.

I actually look around since he couldn’t possibly want to be my partner. When he smiles and nods, I become completely tongue-tied and am probably wearing a look that screams, “What?”

At my silence, he continues. “My name’s Scott, Scott Adams.”

“Danielle…” I reply. Why would someone so stunning want to talk to me?

I clear my now incredibly dry throat and continue. “Danielle Egan…Dani…m-my friends call me Dani.” My stutter has me blushing from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

Great! On top of stuttering, I’m also bright red.

At my bumbling, Scott’s face lights up with the most spectacular smile I’ve ever seen. It extends to his eyes, causing them to crinkle in the corners and dance with glee. My breath hitches and I turn into an even brighter tomato, ratcheting up my level of embarrassment to DEFCON 10, even though there are only five levels.

Don’t think I haven’t noticed Scott. I have, many, many times in the past two years. Scott’s beautiful! And don’t say a guy can’t be called beautiful because Scott Adams puts Chris Hemsworth to shame. He has a thick head of dirty blond hair that skims his collar, and blue eyes that shine brighter than the California sun. And when he smiles? Kill me now. His smile shows off a dimple on his right cheek, one dimple! Could he be any sexier? And his body? All I can say about his body is just…WOW!

Since I’m still a mute, Scott asks once again, “Do you want to be my partner?”

“Y-Yes,” I stutter out in all but a whisper.

Oh my God, he wants to be my partner!

“Your phone?” he asks, holding out his hand.

“Wh-What?” I squeak out, blushing yet again.

“Pass me your cell phone so I can program in my number.” He keeps his hand extended, waiting for me to give it to him.

“Oh, s-sure…” Wide-eyed and still red-faced, I hand it over.

Scott just shakes his head, laughing, as he takes it from me. After a couple of minutes of him typing into his device and mine, he hands it back.

I turn and slip it into my bag, using the time to calm my breathing and collect myself. I turn back to him and just as I’m about to ask about the project, I hear a text come through.

“Excuse me,” I say holding up one finger to indicate I need a minute. I check my screen but don’t recognize the sender. Who’s Blush Lover?

And when I read the text, I actually do die, right smack dab in the middle of the lecture hall.

You’re cute.

I hear another chuckle but before I get a chance to look up, it pings again with another text from the stunning man to my right.

When you blush.

And now my skin tone is perma red.

We make plans to meet up. Or I should say, Scott makes plans to meet up because, yep! still a mute.

I learn that Scott’s originally from Manhattan Beach but has always loved San Diego and knew, from a young age, he was going to attend college down here.

Fate sure knew what it was doing, keeping me here instead of sending me to UCLA, where I was also accepted.

Scott quickly becomes my everything and we become inseparable.

My roommate and best friend, Sandi, loves him and is only slightly upset when I move into his apartment only weeks after the fall quarter ends. He proposes to me the beginning of our senior year and I quickly accept.

Scott and I both graduate with a BA in speculative design and a minor in interdisciplinary computing in the arts. After college, we move to Hermosa Beach, get married and begin doing consultant work together with a focus on environmental design. Our business becomes so wildly popular, that after the birth of our beautiful daughter, Chloe, we decide to open our own store.

From the minute we met, we were an “us.” He’s the love of my life and I never want to be without him.

“BABE, CAN YOU DROP BY the realtor’s office on your way to Alex’s karate class?”

Alyssa and I got married right after graduating college, went on an amazing honeymoon through Europe, and had Alex shortly thereafter.

“Sure, baby,” Alyssa says, getting ready to leave. “I can’t believe you’re finally doing this.”

“We’re finally doing this,” I correct her while closing the space between us to kiss her.

I’ve worked as an architect for a large firm since college, but opening my own shop and finally getting my furniture out into the world has been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. My dad and I converted our garage into a workshop when I was in middle school and we’ve spent countless hours over the years building the furniture we’ve designed. I love creating outdoor furniture; it’s a passion of mine and has always brought my dad and me together, no matter how busy we are.

I hope to one day partner with a local environmental design firm. I love designing unique pieces for exterior spaces in the beach communities in Southern California and know, with the right partners, I can really bring out their full potential, especially in this new market.

The complexion of the South Bay has changed in recent years. Many families who have done exceptionally well in technology or finance have moved in to these neighborhoods, changing it, like the entertainment industry changed Malibu, from a sleepy beach town into something I don’t recognize. Something I don’t want to recognize. The small beach cottages that give this city its character are systematically being torn down to create multimillion-dollar McMansions. These people are making the city what they want it to be. However, on the plus side, the wealth that’s been flooding in has made business owners such as myself, my parents, and many of our friends successful where we otherwise may not have been.

Even though I design for the rich and the new, sleek, ostentatious homes they build, it’s not what I want for myself or for my family. We own one of the original small cottages near the ocean in an area that doesn’t permit cars. The streets are called “Walk Streets” because the pavement has been replaced by sidewalk with barriers at each end. Since cars can’t drive down these streets and since property is so limited, families have set up play equipment in front of their homes for their kids. There are always bikes and other things lying around during the day, making our neighborhood feel like one big backyard. The area is very safe, everybody knows everybody, and we all have each other’s backs.

I love having the ocean literally at my back door and take advantage of it as often as I can. Our home reflects that lifestyle. The front of our house is marked by two very large, rectangular shiplap planters that Alyssa keeps filled, year-round, with all types of flowers. My outdoor furniture fills the space between the planters and the split-front barn door. We always keep the top part open to let in the wonderful beach air, to keep an eye on our six-year-old son, Alex, or to greet our friends as they walk by.

The interior of our home is light and airy. Our living room, which is painted a soft sand color, has a very “shabby chic” feel. An oversized sectional covered in light denim sits amongst great accent pieces reminiscent of what you’d see in a Pottery Barn catalogue. Our kitchen is off to the right of the living room and is open and bright, with white cabinets, sand-colored granite counter tops, and stainless steel appliances. Behind that is a hallway which leads to the bedrooms, bathrooms, and a small office. Our garage is detached, common amongst some of the older homes that still exist in this area, and opens to an alley. A courtyard is tucked in the space between the house and the garage and we put in a small spa which Alex uses as a pool.

We also live within walking distance to Alex’s elementary school, a charming little place tucked securely in the embrace of our neighborhood. We’re always there helping out and love being able to walk him to and from school.

The best news of all? Alyssa is pregnant with our second child, a daughter, so I’ve been drawing up plans to add a second story to our home, while still keeping the same feel.

“It’s been your dream your entire life, babe,” she tells me with a smile.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been my dream my entire life.” She giggles. I love her giggle as much today as I did the first time I heard it. “You, Alex, and our baby girl.” I kiss her five-months-swollen belly.

“Our dream,” she whispers, her face lighting up with that smile of hers that has me falling in love with her all over again.

“DADDY!” Alex shouts with excitement as he comes barreling into the living room in full karate gear. He’s always moving and so full of life. A brilliant, beautiful kid who looks just like his mother.

“I’m getting my yellow belt today!” he announces with pride.

“Way to go, big man!” I tell him with a giant smile, as I hold out my hand for a fist bump.

“Are you coming to watch?” he asks, his little hand bumping my much larger one.

“Ahh, sorry, buddy,” I answer, disappointment erasing my smile. “I have that appointment today with Mr. and Mrs. Endicott, Sam’s parents.”

Jonathan and Tracey Endicott’s son, Sam, goes to school with Alex and the two of them are close friends. The couple made their money in technology, gaming to be exact. They bought and will be tearing down a home in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Manhattan Beach and have hired me to not only create their outdoor space but to design their entire home. It’s my biggest project to date and my mind has been working full time ever since they hired me. Even though they have money, they work hard, are not pretentious, and want their home to reflect that. I respect a strong work ethic and know I can do right by them.

“Sam’s sick, Daddy. He can’t get his yellow belt today and he’s sad he can’t go,” Alex says with a frown on his face. “We were supposed to take him with us.” He stops, his little face scrunching up in thought. “Do you think I should wait too?”

I squat down to his eye level. “You know something, Alex?”

“What, Daddy?” he asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“You are one super-cool dude.” I tap him on the nose and continue. “But I think Sam will be very happy when Mommy takes you over to his house after karate so you can show him your new belt.”

“YAY!” he cheers and turns to his dog. “You hear that, Po? Daddy thinks I’m one super-cool dude!”

“Woof!” Po responds.

Our 110-pound goldendoodle, who ran in the room with Alex, always likes to join in on the action. We adopted him a little over three years ago and Alex named him after the main character in his favorite movie, Kung Fu Panda. I trained him to bark when he hears his name, knowing Alex would think he’s talking to him.

“We have to get going, Alex. We have just enough time to run Daddy’s errand before your four o’clock class,” Alyssa interrupts, grabbing her purse and his backpack containing things to keep him busy. We learned early on to never leave home without it. “Give Daddy a big hug goodbye.”

He throws his little arms around me and squeezes tight. Alex, the new baby, and Alyssa are my life; I don’t know how I’d ever survive without them.

“Bye, Daddy!” Alex says waving his little hand as he heads for the door.

“Bye, buddy!” I say back to him with a full heart.

I stand up and give my wife a passionate kiss. Even after all these years of being together, it still feels like the first time. She was my first, is my only and will be my last.

“See you after karate,” she says as she hoists the bags over her shoulder and leaves.

“Drive safe!” I holler as Alyssa gets in the car. I say that to her every time she leaves but today something doesn’t feel right; I can’t explain it but there’s a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat that’s making it hard to breathe.

I shake off my negative thoughts. Just because things are going great doesn’t mean something bad is going to happen, right?

If I only knew…

“HI, SWEETHEART, I’M ALMOST READY.”

“That’s why I’m calling. Traffic is gridlocked so I’m going to get off the freeway and take Sepulveda Boulevard instead.”

Even though our firm is in Hermosa Beach and many of our clients are local, we often get requests for work in other areas and that’s where Scott’s been today. I normally go with him, especially when it’s for large companies with several properties, but it’s our wedding anniversary and I chose to stay home to get ready and to make him his favorite dessert, an almost flourless chocolate cake. Our daughter, Chloe, is with his parents and I have a special evening planned. He wore a suit today so I also got dressed up and made reservations at our favorite restaurant. I can’t wait.

Seven years ago I married the love of my life. I remember it like it was yesterday. We got married on a beautiful autumn day at Hope Chapel in Hermosa Beach. I was getting ready in the bridal suite when I heard a soft knock on my door.

“Danielle?”

Scott!

I could never stop the smile that overtakes my face when I hear my full name passing through his beautiful lips. Aside from my mom, Scott’s the only one who’s ever called me Danielle. My mom only uses it when she’s angry or wants to get my attention; Scott uses it to express his love. I tried to correct him at first but when he said, “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” I lost every argument swirling around in my brain and embraced it. He’s the only person I let call me that because it’s his special name, his term of endearment.

I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out of me as I answered him, in a soft voice, through the still closed door.

“You can’t be here. You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck.” I knew that it’s a silly tradition, ever since I met him, my garden’s been full of nothing but four-leaf clovers, but I’ve always been big on tradition and I didn’t want to jinx my wedding day. A day I’ve dreamt about my entire life.

“I just need to be near you,” he said back, his voice also soft and quiet. “I just want to hold your hand. Please.”

I could never deny him. I cracked open the door and stuck out my arm, immediately feeling my small hand become engulfed in the warmth and security of his larger one and was gently guided to the floor.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m sitting,” he whispered back. “I want us just to be.”

“Then let’s just be,” I told him and we sat hand in hand through the slightly open door.

“I’m so incredibly excited to be marrying you. You’re the love of my life.”

I squeezed his hand in response and said, “As you are mine.”

I felt so blessed to be marrying him. He’s my best friend and my greatest support. He is my light and my love and I’ve never been happier.

“I never knew what love was like until I met you and I plan on cherishing every minute with you until the day I die.”

Although his words were beautiful, the word “die” echoed in my head causing a lump to form in my throat. I never want my life with him to end. I couldn’t exist without him.

“Scott, that’s never going to happen. You’re never going to die so we don’t need to talk about it.”

At my sniffle he squeezed my hand and responded, “Oh, baby. Don’t cry, I don’t plan on dying for a long, long time. We have a lot of years ahead of us. Let me hear your smile.”

It was our wedding day so I forced my tears to dry and even though I knew he couldn’t see it, I gave him the smile I knew he was craving. “I can’t wait to give you babies,” I said changing the subject.

“What do you want to have?”

“A little girl that looks just like you.” I felt him smile and my smile got wider at the thought.

“A little girl sounds amazing but I hope that she has your looks. Your hair that glows auburn in the sunlight and those mesmerizing hazel eyes I love so much. I want her to have your strength and your heart, your laughter and your intelligence.”

I sighed through the fresh tears that had fallen once again at hearing his beautiful words. I was just about to argue with him, telling him all the things I love most about him when I was interrupted with a screech.

“SCOTT!” his mother, Beverly, bellowed, admonishing him for breaking tradition. “You’re not allowed to see Dani before the wedding. It’s bad luck!”

I heard Scott sigh and as my hand fell from his, I immediately missed his warmth.

“I just needed to be near her.”

I quickly saved him from Beverly’s wrath by saying, “He didn’t see me.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to be near her,” she insisted. “But first you need to let her finish getting ready so the two of you can get married and begin your lives together.”

I heard his muffled “Okay.” Immediately assuming he just pulled her in for a hug because that’s what he does.

I then heard Beverly say, “I love you too. Now off you go! We have a wedding to get ready for and I have a feeling you’ve ruined her makeup.”

“I love you, Danielle. I’ll see you at the altar.”

“I love you too, baby. I can’t wait—” My reply was cut off when Beverly stormed into the room and closed the door, stopping all further conversation.

The ceremony was beautiful. I was instantly in tears when he started reciting his vows. “Danielle, my favorite color is your blush, my favorite sound is your laugh.” He looked at me with love in his eyes and continued. “My favorite flavor is your lips and my favorite thing is you.”

He continued to take my breath away as he professed his love and he still takes my breath away with every word he blesses me with.

“It’s no problem, sweetheart, our reservations aren’t until six thirty so you still have plenty of time,” I say and then add, “Drive safe.” He always drives safe, it’s the other drivers I worry about.

Sepulveda Boulevard is a major thoroughfare that runs parallel to the freeway. It’s usually very busy but not nearly as crowded as the freeway so we often use it when there’s a lot of traffic.

“I love you, Danielle.”

Danielle…

“I love you too, Scottie.” I hear his breath hitch at the sound of his nickname and I smile.

I’m still smiling a short time later as I take the cake out of the oven to cool. But before I have a chance to set it on the counter, my phone rings, again.

It’s rung a few times but I’ve been too knee-deep in chocolate to answer. Assuming it’s Scott giving me an update on his whereabouts, I place the phone between my ear and shoulder and answer without looking at the screen. “Hey, baby, are you close?”

I freeze when I hear sobbing coming from the other end of the line. “Scott?”

It’s my mother-in-law’s voice I hear instead of Scott’s. “D-Dani…” Why is she crying?

Suddenly her voice is replaced by a male voice and his misery is visceral.

Oh God! I can’t breathe. Something terrible has happened! I can feel it!

“SCOTT!” I scream.

The cake I’m holding falls out of my hands and crashes onto the floor along with my heart. Something is very, very wrong.

“Scott…” I whisper through the tears suddenly pouring down my face. The phone now locked in my hand in a death grip to keep it attached to my ear in the hope that what my gut is telling me is wrong.

But it’s not.

“Dani… it’s Rodger.” Scott’s dad is crying so hard I barely understand him but I do hear three words. Three words I never wanted to hear. Three words that decimate my entire world.

“Scott is dead.”

NOOOOOOOOO!

I HEAD OFF TO MY new business, my dream. I’m so excited to finally be doing this and so are all my friends and family, who have always proudly flaunted everything I’ve ever created for them and have been forever asking me when I was going to open my own store. Many of my clients who I’ve done architectural work for are also excited to see me branch out on my own and all the enthusiasm and support I’ve received have given me the impetus to take this step.

I rented storefront space on Main Street in El Segundo, a sleepy little beach town at the mouth of LAX. It looks like the town of Mayberry from The Andy Griffith Show and the people are just as welcoming. Main Street is flanked with boutiques, small restaurants, and mom-and-pop shops.

The space I’m renting isn’t terribly big, but I know I can make it work. The previous tenants ran an artisanal olive oil shop and designed the interior to be very European and very elegant with textured walls and hardwood flooring throughout. They sank a lot of money into it and when the fad began to die, so did their business. Their loss became my gain.

I have the whole thing laid out in my head. The front of the store is going to be retail while the back will contain offices, a conference room, and a small workshop/storage area, with a dining area in the corner. My mom is an interior decorator and will be using one of the back offices when she needs to meet with clients; I’m excited to be able to work with her.

I’m also going to be spending more time with my dad and we’re already planning what we’re going to make. The furniture I want to showcase will have a European flair to match the interior of the store. Each grouping of furniture will be contained in its own vignette and will be designed to have the feel of being in an outdoor space. I’ll also have my portfolio on hand to take custom orders.

I’m naming the store Allie’s Retreat. Once I get the signed paperwork back to Eric, my realtor, I’m planning on hanging the sign out front and surprising Alyssa with it. She doesn’t know I’m using her nickname but I know she’s going to love it. I can’t wait to show her and see her reaction.

Alyssa is my rock and I depend on her for everything. She was a business major at UCLA, with a specialty in marketing, and graduated at the top of her class. She’s wicked smart, and really very good at what she does. She had just started working at a very successful company which she loved but decided to stay at home and be a full-time mom after Alex was born, a decision I wholeheartedly support. I love that she’s been home with him. Alex is the person he is today because of the loving dedication of his amazing mother. He has a brilliant future ahead of him that I can’t wait to see and I'm so excited to be part of all the great things he’s going to experience.

I don’t usually meet clients so late in the day, but Jonathan had to be out of the area all day and pushed back our appointment. It actually works in my favor, because I’ve got some new ideas and decided to come in and fine-tune the blueprints before our meeting.

It’s a beautiful, sunny fall afternoon so I took the coast, instead of Sepulveda Boulevard, the local thoroughfare that takes you from one beach city to the next. For some reason, I was more stressed out about Alyssa driving today and I haven’t been able to shake it. She’s always very careful and safe but my gut has been in knots since I kissed her goodbye. I usually follow my intuition and my heavy gut is yelling at me for not stopping her or, better yet, going with her.

Still shoving my trepidation aside, I smile when I enter my new space. The only things in the shop right now are my drafting table, a chair, a small couch, and a mini fridge. I just finished adding the final touches to the Endicott project and turn on my phone. I don’t like the distraction when I’m working, so it’s typical for me to have it off. Everybody knows this and have accepted my quirk. Not two minutes later, my phone rings.

“I bet that’s Alyssa!” I say out loud as a smile lights up my face, imagining her giggle while she tells me the news that Alex received his yellow belt and how excited he is.

Still smiling when I see it’s my mom’s face lighting up my phone, I swipe my finger across the screen, accepting her call.

My mom is an amazing person, beautiful both inside and out, and I love her dearly. My dad is the yin to her yang. Where she’s petite, his towering presence commands attention; where she’s light, he is dark. Yet they complement each other perfectly, bringing out the best in one another. Like Alyssa and me, they’re stronger together than they are alone.

“Hi, Mom, I’m at the new shop,” I say with excitement in my voice. “Alex is in karate and my appointment with the Endicotts was pushed back so I came in to add some extra details before our meeting. What’s up?”

I always spit everything out in one fell swoop when it comes to her because I know that once my mom gets started, it could be a good five minutes before I get a word in edge-wise.

But that’s not the case today, not even close.

“Ean…”

She’s sobbing so hysterically I can barely understand her, except I do make out five words that will forever change my life.

“…Alyssa and Alex are dead.”

My gut was right; I stop breathing and collapse.

My.

World.

Goes.

Black.

Literally.

I’VE ABANDONED MY BUSINESS AND given up the Endicott job along with every other project I was working on. I don’t care about the loss of business or about any of the furniture that was made for the store. I told my dad to sell all the completed pieces and to throw the rest away. I am never doing that again. As a matter of fact, I’m never doing anything again. My family is dead. My life is over.

I’m still living in my cottage because I need to be here when Alyssa and Alex come home. I have to believe they will because if I don’t, I really have no reason to live. Ironic since I’m not living now. Everything is too painful. I’m so fucking angry and so incredibly sad.

I’ve lost contact with everybody except for my two best friends, Justin and Chance, my sister, Riley, and my parents. They all mercilessly refuse to leave me alone. They pick me up off the floor and bathe me. They keep my refrigerator stocked and attempt to feed me. They also walk and feed Po. Po…he’s so sad. He lies next to me on the floor by the door and waits with a sad expression on his face. Yes, that’s right—I live on the floor by my front door so I can be the first thing Alyssa and Alex see when they return.

These people and my dog are the only reason why I haven’t killed myself…yet.

When I do leave the house, on those rare occasions, I avoid the intersection where my family was murdered. At. All. Costs. That is the intersection where some drunken asshole ran through the intersection at full speed, never even slowing down for his red light. The cars in his path were demolished; all passengers dead on the spot.

My family was in one of those cars; D’s husband in the other. It just so happens that even though that intersection is usually very busy, they were the only two cars crossing at that exact moment. Apparently, the car D’s husband was driving was struck first, flipped and landed upside down on top of my wife’s car. Yes, I was told everyone had died instantly. No, it doesn’t help, and it doesn’t help D either. Not by a long shot.

I learned about D through my grief counselor. After the accident, I had to see a counselor, as did D. This, in part, was because the asshole who decimated our loved ones was a city employee, apparently a high-level one. Grief counseling was required as part of the settlement because yes, the murderer had lived.

The place D and I have been forced to go for grief counseling is called Our House and is about a half an hour away from my home. My mom insisted on driving me and spent the entire ride, before my first session, alternating between trying to get me to read the articles flooding the internet and trying to persuade me to attend the court proceedings. I’m not going to read what some asshole has to say about my family and I’ve made everyone promise they wouldn’t either. I’m also definitely not going to the trial. The minute I see the man who murdered my family, I’ll lose my shit and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, especially me.

Our House usually holds group sessions but because our sessions are court-mandated and high profile, D and I are able to meet separately with our counselor, Barbara Macintyre, on a one-to-one basis.

Since we’re both barely hanging on by a thread, Barbara decided to do something very extreme and very risky. She came up with the idea that connecting us with one another could help us get through the grieving process. Her thinking was, since we’re both going through the same thing, we could potentially help each other and to her that was worth the loss of her license.

She gave us each a new cell phone that contained only each other’s new phone numbers along with the first letter of our first names. She wanted us to have a dedicated line to one another and her only stipulations were that we only communicate through text message and never reveal our real names or other personal details. This I agreed to because I had absolutely no intention of ever contacting her.

Except today. Today I have to. So I turn on my phone and type:

D, this is E.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I don’t see how it’s going to change anything but I can’t stand this anymore. I’m at my breaking point. I’m in constant pain. It feels like a huge band is crushing my chest and getting tighter every day. All I do is cry! Everybody has been trying really hard, I know that. I just don’t have it in me to give a shit.

I lost it with my mom yesterday. Said things no son should ever say to his mother. All she did was ask me to move in with her and I lost it. It got so bad that she ran out of the house crying with a very mad Riley on her heels. Sure she’s asked me before but that’s no excuse. My dad laid into me, took Po, and left. I’m now truly alone; being sucked into an inescapable vortex of grief. I’m so lost.

They haven’t been by yet today and I hope they don’t come by at all; this way I can die in peace. I’m falling down the rabbit hole very quickly and that’s why I need to contact D, the only other person who could possibly understand what I’m going through.

So I continue.

I wasn’t planning on contacting you, but here I am. I’m sure you feel the same way since you haven’t reached out to me and I don’t blame you if you don’t respond. It’s been almost a month since my world ended and let’s just say, unfortunately, suicide isn’t an option. Even though I really wish it were.

I push aside my tears but not my pain, it refuses to leave. I take a deep breath and continue.

I’m dying! With each second that passes, I keep dying more and more. I never leave my house, I just sit by the front door waiting for their return. So yeah, I’m contacting you. Are you going through the same thing? Why does it hurt so much? How am I ever supposed to move on or whatever the hell that even means. Why did this have to happen?!

Through my agony I type the plea that just might save my life.

I really need you to text me back. I’m scared, sad, lonely, and extremely desperate.

My thumb hovers over the send button, my world has fallen apart. All the endless, empty platitudes, hollow words spouted by well-meaning people, to make them feel better, still echo in my ears.

Why do people feel the need to apologize? It’s so stupid! “I’m sorry I squirted ketchup on your shirt,” sure. “I’m sorry that your entire family was murdered,” FUCK YOU! Time heals shit and it’s not going to get better. IT NEVER WILL! One asshole actually thought that he was being clever by saying, “When you’re going through hell, keep going.” What’s that even supposed to mean? And if one more person tells me they’re in a better place…!

Every day I pray for a miracle. Every time the door opens, I hold my breath in the hope they’ve come back to me. But hope is a dangerous thing because every time I realize it’s not Alyssa and Alex, I slide even further down that dangerous hole.

I stand and go to the window. I spend a lot of time looking out the window, but instead of seeing the two people who I need to see the most, I see nothing. Nothing but yellow ribbons. Since the accident, the neighbors have rallied together. They’ve blanketed the streets, tying yellow ribbons on all the houses that line the neighborhood.

There was a ceremony by the flag pole in the front of Alex’s school. My mom and Riley went in my place. I just couldn’t bring myself to go. Many of my neighbors have also been to city hall, demanding justice. The monster is in jail, but that isn’t justice. He should have been the only one dead!

There were so many people who wanted to attend the funeral that my parents held a wake in the gym at my old high school. I was forced to go. I didn’t want to be there! It made everything more real. I went though, I went for them.

The place was packed because everybody loved Alyssa and Alex. Several people spoke, saying things they remember about them and kids even came up to talk about Alex or just hand me drawings. Alyssa’s best friend, Cami, sang Alyssa’s favorite song, the Hawaiian version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”—and Chance made a montage of pictures set to other songs she loved. He actually used the playlist I created for her when we were eighteen.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t breathe. I was a zombie. I walked in, sat down, and walked out. I don’t remember what anyone said. The entire day was a surreal blur. I just remember hearing a lot of crying.

If I thought the wake was hard, I was wrong because the funeral was impossible! I barely made it past the gates of Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City. Watching the people I love most in this world being lowered into the ground destroyed me.

“WHYYYY?!” I bellow into the emptiness that surrounds me while I sit alone, a prisoner of grief, praying that death will also take me.

And it’s for that reason, I hit send. Not because I want to, but because I have to.

And I wait.

D, this is E.

Wow! I can’t believe E texted me. I only agreed he could because I was out of my mind with grief and had absolutely no intention of ever contacting him.

I think I’ve reread his text a hundred times. Not because I didn’t understand it; I kept reading it because I did, I do. I don’t want to, but I do. I understand it. All. Too. Well.

“He’s going through exactly the same thing I am,” I say out loud in my empty house.

Chloe’s with Scott’s parents. They take her a lot because I can’t stop crying and that both confuses her and makes her sad. In her four-year-old little mind, she still thinks her daddy is coming home. I think that too. No, I know that! So I sit, frozen, like E, by the front door whenever she isn’t home and I wait.

“Scott, where are you?” I croak out through my ever-present tears as I wonder how I’m ever supposed to live without him.

Scott is the love of my life; but unlike E, I have to move away from the door. I have to keep living for Chloe. She’s my princess, my baby girl, my reason to live. She not only has her father’s looks, she also has his personality. She lights up a room simply by being in it.

I didn’t want to reach out to E and I don’t want to respond. It makes everything even more real and I certainly don’t want to relive my nightmare or hear about his pain.

But I’m not living and he’s obviously in tremendous pain, so maybe…?

While thinking about E’s text, my wary mind wanders back to the day I buried Scott.

It was a bright, clear day, outside. Blue sky, white fluffy clouds. But inside? Inside my world was dark, gray, and so very ugly. Vicious storm clouds. Ominous echoes of thunder. Scars of lightning slashing the sky and torrential rain threatening to drown the world. It’s felt that way every minute of every day since he died and I don’t expect that to ever change.

“I can’t do this, Rodger.”

Parked in front of the hole that will become Scott’s new home at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, Rodger and I sat side-by-side in his car; imprisoned by grief, unable to move. We had just dropped Beverly off at the chapel to meet with Father Henderson before the funeral. Father Henderson is a wonderful man and an even better priest. He married Scott and me and baptized Chloe. Until today, I’ve only associated him with the best parts of my life. Now, I’ll never look at him the same.

I glanced over at Rodger and noticed the toll this has taken on him. He’s a strong and virile man, with eyes so dark you can’t tell where the pupils end and the iris begins. His full head of thick hair is streaked with threads of silver, and frames his face which is punctuated by a strong jaw that houses the most amazingly deep cleft in the center of his chin. He is the kind of man who measures his words carefully before he speaks, believing that “Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something,” but not on this day.

On this day, Rodger wasn’t the man I knew. His hair seemed dull and thin, his features less pronounced. He didn’t look strong and wise—he looked haunted, broken. On this day, Rodger wasn’t measuring his words because on this day he had none.

“Dani, sweetheart…” He gestured with his chin to where Father Henderson and Beverly were waiting to bury my husband. At my nod, he came around the car and helped me out, but the closer we got, the more my soul and body disintegrated, sending me crashing down onto the hard grass in a field littered with the souls of lost loved ones.

I’m broken beyond repair. My spirit, hollow. A vast chasm that will never be filled.

“SCOTT!” I wailed.

“Dani, my child,” Father Henderson said in a soft voice once he was by my side.

Seeing him through tear-drenched eyes, I reached out, grabbing his robe, praying for a miracle while pleading for answers. “Why, Father Henderson?” I begged. “Why did this happen?”

“I don’t have the answer for that, my child. It was God’s will.”

At hearing his response, I lost all common sense, and found myself on my feet.

“God’s will? God’s will?!” I shouted. I was out of control but didn’t care. “FUCK THAT, FATHER HENDERSON! FUCK GOD’S WILL!”

“Dani.”

“No, Father Henderson!” I shouted while shaking my head in a vicious attempt to let him know how wrong he was. I knew what I was saying wasn’t right but I was too broken to stop. “That’s not a good enough answer!”

Rodger and Beverly rushed to my side, crying and begging me to stop. But I was too far gone.

“NO!” I bellowed.

My howls of despair were heavy and deep; mirroring the ache in my soul. Desperate and pitiful, like an animal suffering inescapable agony.

Everything is excruciating! Everything is broken!

“I won’t stop!” I wailed. “Scott was a good man! HE DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE!”

I turned and started to run. I needed to get away from that hole! My skin felt too tight and my racing heart threatened to pound out of my chest.

This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t possibly be burying Scott!

Suddenly I was scooped up in two strong, familiar arms that felt like Scott’s. Was I wrong? Was this all just a hideous nightmare? But all hope faded when I heard Rodger say, “Dani…I’m so incredibly sorry…”

“W-why, Ro-Rodger…? W-why?” I rasped, my throat lined with sandpaper; my voice scratchy and raw. “W-w-we were g-g-g-going to, to c-c-celebrate our w-wedding anniversary…”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Beverly cried.

I looked up, into the eyes of my beautiful mother-in-law who had just caught up to us and I noticed changes in her too. On any other day, her oval face would highlight her stunning eyes which are both expressive and inviting—Scott’s eyes—but not this day. On any other day, her personality and beauty shines bright, her smile ever-present, her dimple always coming out to play. A single dimple—Scott’s dimple—but not this day.

On this day, her smile didn’t exist and that endearing dimple was nowhere to be seen. Her brilliant blue eyes were dull and lifeless. On this day, Beverly was curled into herself. Her face hollow, her body sunken. The California beauty I knew…gone.

The three of us sat sobbing in the shadow of Scott’s casket. Huddled together; clinging to one another for dear life.

After an interminable amount of time and with the hands of grief still wrapped around our hearts, we made our way back to the gravesite. We chose to have a private funeral because we knew we wouldn’t be able to handle being around other people. Scott was loved by many and people wanted to pay their last respects but thankfully they understood. Our devastation was also the reason we left Chloe at home.

“I apologize, Father Henderson,” I said when we got back to the gravesite. I knew he was just a messenger of God and didn’t deserve my wrath.

I wish I could say my heart is broken because I can get over a broken heart. But my soul is broken and that is something I will never get over.

Barbara, the grief counselor we share but see separately, wanted us to reach out to one another, and while I had no intention of ever texting him, I’ve clung to the phone she gave me as a lifeline.

I can’t just sit by while he is so shattered. I have to help. So through fresh tears, I text E back.

E…you’re right. I had no intention of ever contacting you. But here I am returning your text because I also happen to be sitting on the floor by my front door. I know it’s against the rules to disclose any personal information and while I’m aware you know my husband, the love of my life, was murdered that day, I want you to know we have a four-year-old daughter. My reason for telling you this is because, if not for her, I too would be sitting in this exact spot, 24/7 waiting for him to walk through the front door.

D…the love of my life was murdered that day TOO! But not only was she killed, I also lost my six-year-old son and my unborn daughter.

ALL.

THE.

AIR.

LEFT.

MY.

BODY.

My heart stops and even though I don’t think it’s possible, it breaks even more. I text back.

I don’t want to say I’m sorry because that’s the stupidest thing to say and I’m sick of hearing it myself. But what you just texted me…I kind of understand now why people say that. My world ended the day he died and my in-laws constantly have to take my daughter because I can’t ever stop crying.

His reply is immediate.

That makes two of us.

Now I’m crying for the both of us.

E, to answer some of your questions, I am going through the same thing and I hate it. I hate all of this! I have no idea why it hurts so bad, it just does, and I don’t think we’ll ever move on. I don’t want to. All the color has left my world and I just want him back.

I knew contacting him would hurt, but in a weird way, it’s making me feel so…not so alone.

I want them back too…so badly! I can’t stop crying. This hurts so much. It feels like I’m carrying the pain of the entire world on my shoulders and I can’t seem to make it stop. I’m suffocating in my own anguish and I’m tired, D, I’m so incredibly tired.

I can’t breathe; his words wreck me. The only sound in my empty house is the sound of my pain. And even though I don’t want to, I can’t stop myself from texting him back. I don’t know why, I just do.

I can’t stop crying either. This is so incredibly wrong. It shouldn’t have been them. It should’ve been that monster! They were good people, E. Really good people. Why did it have to be them? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE!

This time he took longer to respond, like he had to think about his answer.

I don’t know either. And you’re right, they didn’t deserve to die. I don’t understand how it happened? That intersection is always so busy. How could they have been the only two cars to be crossing at that exact second?

Oh my God! We really are feeling the same things.

I’ve thought about that a million times. It’s like the universe is out to get us! But I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m a good wife, a good mother, and a good person. He was coming home to celebrate our wedding anniversary and it was supposed to be the beginning of a happy weekend. Not a horrible end.

I watch the gray bubbles dance on the screen and wait to read his reply.

I’m a good dad, a good husband, and a good man. My son was going to get his yellow belt in karate. He was supposed to be walking through the door beaming with pride! We were supposed to be spending that weekend celebrating.

Why us, E?

I don’t know.

I don’t know either and I just curl myself up into a ball and cry. I don’t know how much time passes but I jump in surprise when I hear my phone ping.

D? Are you still there?

Oh my God, I forgot what I was doing.

Yeah, I’m sorry. I started crying again. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever really stopped and I kind of forgot about the text.

His response is swift and understanding.

I understand. It’s hard to relive this.

It really is. How is this supposed to help us?

Although I see the bubbles on the screen, this time, they keep appearing and disappearing. It’s almost as if he’s unsure about what to say.

When Barbara gave me the new phone, I never thought reaching out to you would help but in some sick way, knowing you’re going through the same thing? It kind of does seem to help.

I was right, he was weary. It’s amazing how many emotions I can discern through his texts and it’s strange how I can already sense his soul.

I agree, I don’t feel so alone in all of this.

We text some more about all the articles that have been written about the accident. He tells me how he refuses to read what some asshole wrote about his family and how he refuses to turn on the television. I really don’t blame him. I read a few articles and they destroyed me. He also tells me how he begged his friends and family not to read anything either. I had done the same with Beverly and Rodger and was thankful when they agreed. We then talk about the upcoming trial. I can’t bring myself to go and was relieved when he said he wasn’t going to be there either.

From there, we move on to telling each other about all the things our neighbors are doing for us and saying to us. We share how much we hate it but at the same time, understand they aren’t coming from a bad place and really don’t know how to react.

It feels surprisingly good to have someone who understands what I’m going through; to have someone in my corner. I learned how his parents come by daily to take care of him, what he did to send them away and how guilty he feels about it. I let him know how hard it is to constantly pretend I’m okay and how hard it’s been to be present when all I want to do is disappear.

At some point, our conversation turns, and we start comparing notes about some of the stupid things people are saying to us and I actually start to smile.

Oh my God, E, I can’t believe someone actually said that to you. Who wants to even think of being in hell let alone trying to figure a way out once there. Why would anyone ever say that? I haven’t had the privilege of hearing that one yet but at least you haven’t received the ever-so-popular, “Oh, you poor thing.” Which is always accompanied by my all-time favorite, the pity stare…I think that may be a girl thing. “Oh, she’s so fragile! How can she ever survive!”

D, HAH! Your sarcasm slays me. You just made me laugh and trust me, that’s something I never thought I’d do again.

Oh my God, I just laughed too! How is that even possible?

I just laughed too and, like you, I never thought I’d do that again. I guess this really is helping.

We continue texting in this new direction. I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a very long time. And when he calls me “Little Miss Funny Pants,” I realize two things at once. First, I did the right thing in returning his text and second, this isn’t going to be the end of them.

Oh God! Parents are here for their daily visit to the “psych ward.” I was hoping they’d take the hint and not show up but you’ve made me smile so I think I can handle what’s ahead.

I suddenly feel like I can handle what’s ahead of me too, so I quickly type:

Text soon?

And I smile when I read:

Absolutely!

We haven’t stopped texting since our first exchange. He’s making me feel better and I want to think I’m doing the same for him. I’ve started to crave hearing from him. His texts ground me. We’ve spent hours crying, screaming, and commiserating. I’m not alone anymore and that knowledge is empowering.

Halloween was really hard for E. Apparently, he lives in an area that’s very popular on that night. He told me how he kept his house dark, how he was able to hear the revelers outside, and how kids kept ringing his doorbell anyway…while he stayed home alone, in a dark house…drunk.

Thanksgiving is upon us and I know this holiday will be even harder for him, especially with nothing to give thanks for. So I’m not surprised when his text comes through.

D, are you around?

Since I know he’s worried about the holiday, I go ahead and put it out there.

You’re worried about Thanksgiving, aren’t you?

What the fuck do I have to be thankful for?!

I just thought that.

Is it morbid if I say nothing?

No, it’s truthful!

I don’t want him to spend Thanksgiving like he spent Halloween—alone, miserable, and drunk—so I decide to give him a nudge.

You’re going to your parents’ house, right?

He’s already told me his parents are cooking and how they’ve been begging him to join them.

No!

You should. They love you and want to be with you.

Really, D? Not you too!

I haven’t seen this much anger from him in a long time but I understand where he’s coming from.

Not me, E. never me! I’m on your side and you know it. I just think it’ll help.

It won’t!

I haven’t forced him to do anything yet, but, in my soul, I believe this small step will help him.

My in-laws are having a small dinner, just the four of us. Maybe your parents can do that too. Just them, you, and your sister—

I wasn’t able to get my full text out before his next one cut me off.

It doesn’t matter!

Please? For me?

Seriously? You’re going there?!

Screw this! It will help him and I am going there!

Yes, E, I’m going there.

Fine.

Wow, really? That was too easy.

Really?

Why am I now questioning myself?

Yes, really…I kind of like you pushing me and you’re probably right. I’ll ask if it can be just the four of us.

I’m proud of you, E.

Thanks.

It turns out that all his relatives were there. Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s trying to push him, but in the end, he had a nice time and was actually thankful he went.

I’m glad I pushed him to go. It was a turning point for him and also a turning point in our relationship.

Since Thanksgiving, we’ve branched into texting about other subjects. Still not crossing any lines, we’ve talked about everything from favorite books to favorite movies (at which we are still in a stand-off). We’ve covered everything from favorite food to color to music and more. We’ve argued about the different restaurants in the area. Which are best and what we like to order at each… Who doesn’t like mushrooms on their pizza?

We text daily and he’s become my closest friend.

THE MORE WE TEXT, THE closer we become. We text about anything and everything and still never run out of things to say. Even though we’ve never discussed anything too personal, I’ve become very dependent on him; I need his words as much as I need air to breathe.

Christmas is on the horizon and I’ve decided I can’t be here, not without Scott. I want to go home to San Diego but I’m afraid. So I pull out my special phone and text E.

I’m leaving.

His response comes quickly.

You’re… What?!

E, I know we haven’t talked about this in a while but I swear to God, if I hear even one more person apologizing to me or telling me things will get better, I’m going to EXPLODE! I’m the town widow. Everyone walks on eggshells around me. No one ever mentions his name. It’s like he never existed. I know it’ll only get worse at Christmas and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it. I’m thinking about going back to my childhood home for a while to find my bearings. What do you think?

I know I’m rambling. I also know I’m running away but I don’t care.

Go.

Wait… What?

Now he’s pushing me?

Go.

You said that, Einstein.

I’m not enjoying being on the other end of this.

D, you pushed me to go to Thanksgiving dinner. It turned out to be a good thing and I think this will be good for you too. Christmas is going to be hard for both of us. If you think going home will help, I think you should go.

I see why he agreed with me about Thanksgiving because that just made a shit-ton of sense.

Okay.

I’m serious, D. Like you said, a change of scenery might be the best thing for both of you. So go.

I’m scared, E! This is the first big thing I’ve done since my husband died and I don’t think I’m strong enough.

Babe! We text daily and I can assure you that you are strong enough.

Did he really just call me babe? And why do I kind of like it?

Babe?

Hah! That’s what you got from what I just said?

Yes, that’s what I got from what you just said and I like it. I seriously consider you my best friend, E. Your opinion means so much to me and with you by my side, I know I can do it.

You’re my best friend too and I’ll always be around to guide you. So are you going?

Yes, you know I always trust your opinion.

Well, babe, I’m always happy to give you my opinion because it increases the odds of me being able to say, “I told you so” in the future.

Yep! I like hearing him call me that. I love when I can sense his smile coming through his texts, and I really love when he gets all cocky and confident.

Hah! And (eye roll) I’ve never known you to ever shy away from giving me a good “I told you so,” E.

So when are you going?

This weekend.

Well, be safe, keep that little girl of yours safe, and don’t forget about this decrepit lab partner of yours.

Ever since he referred to his house as the “psych ward,” we’ve joked about how we are a science experiment gone wrong.

We are quite the science experiment, aren’t we? And, E… I could never forget you.

We are indeed! And back at ya, with the never forgetting part.

Chloe and I arrive at my mother’s house by two in the afternoon the next day.

I kept the goodbyes to a minimum because Chloe thinks we’re just visiting, even though I’m considering moving home permanently. Though, when I refer to where my mother lives, I wouldn’t exactly call it “home.”

I grew up in a small town called Escondido, just north of San Diego. My childhood home is in a nice, well-kept, middle-class neighborhood, on a lovely tree-lined street. Before my dad died, the two-story house was yellow with white shutters. I was always embarrassed because I was the only one with a yellow house and really, who painted their house yellow? Looking back, yellow was the perfect color. It represents life and happiness. It’s sunshine on even the darkest days. My house was always filled with music and love and life and that color represented that. The house is now white with black shutters. The color died with my dad and it shows.

“We’re here, baby doll,” I tell Chloe as I put the car into park. It’s a three-hour drive from Hermosa Beach to Escondido and aside from having to stop a couple of times, she’s been a perfect angel.

“YAY! I get to see Nana!” she squeals, delight radiating off her.

I sigh. If she only knew…

Chloe and I let ourselves in and I call out, into an otherwise empty room. “Mom?” She could at least be outside of her bedroom. She knows we’re coming and I saw her car in the driveway, so I know she’s here.

Finally making her dramatic appearance, she saunters out of her bedroom, dressed to the nines.

“Is that my daughter and beautiful granddaughter?”

“It’s us, Nana!” Chloe yells, rushing towards my mother with her arms open wide.

My mom squats down and gives Chloe a big hug, while I thank God for small favors; she seems sober.

When she stands up to give me a quick peck on the cheek, I notice a huge difference in her appearance. Alcoholism has never looked good on her. My once beautiful mother is now anything but.

“Are you two hungry?” she asks, even though she and I both know there’s no food in the house.

“Chloe and I aren’t hungry, Mom. We ate on the way here and picked up food from the market for dinner tonight.”

“That wasn’t necessary, dear. I’ll be out this evening,” she informs me while following both me and my groceries into the kitchen.

Of course, she will be. Ugh! I’ve been here a whole ten minutes and I’m already ready to leave.

“I wouldn’t expect anything different,” I say more to myself than to her. I knew she’d be going out. When will I ever learn? I had hoped her priorities would be different with Chloe here, but sadly, I was wrong. She didn’t come up for the funeral so I’m not surprised she won’t be here for us now that we’re here.

While Chloe is busy visiting with her, I head up to my old bedroom to text E. We make it a point to carry our special phones with us at all times so we can always be there for one another and right now, I’m glad we do. I need him. I feel like I’m drowning and texting him is the only thing that can rescue me.

Made it safely, thought you’d want to know. Thankfully, my mom isn’t completely drunk…yet.

Oh shit! I just broke the rules by telling him something too personal. I need to fix this so I quickly add:

TMI! Sorry, I broke the rules. Don’t think you have to reciprocate! I guess severe frustration’s gotten the best of me.

He responds right away and when I read his words, I immediately relax and smile.

LOL! First, I’m glad that you made it safely! Second, not too much information. My mom’s name is Heather, my dad’s name is Jerry, and I have a younger sister named Riley, so now we’re even. Don’t stress! Seriously, Dee, you have enough on your plate, as it is.

Thank God! I don’t want to lose you. I promise I’ll keep a tighter lid on my words—

Wait a minute! Did he just spell Dee instead of just using the letter? I have to know, so before he can text me back, I ask:

Did you just call me Dee?

We’re friends, yeah?

Absolutely!

So you just got a nickname!

I burst out in a laugh so loud it surprises even me. He’s just what I needed.

You just gave the first letter of my first name a nickname?

Yep!

That’s absolutely hilarious. I really like it!

I really do.

Well, I like you and you are never going to lose me! So please don’t guard everything you say. I kinda like that we’ve become comfortable enough around one another to be a bit freer about what we say.

Thank you, E.

No problem, Dee…

I should know E well enough by now to know he’d be okay with speaking more freely and what he said was exactly what I needed to hear.

BTW, I’m leaving too!

He’s…WHAT?!

WAIT… You’re…what?!

Deeeeee, I’m both following your lead and listening to my advice. I found a house to rent not far from where I currently live. The place I’m moving to will be close to the beach so I’m also going to start running again.

I’m really proud of you.

Seriously, Dee, thanks to you, I now sleep on the couch and I’m showering and eating on my own. I also started volunteering again at Austin House. So, like you, I think this will be a good change for me.

Isn’t Austin House a home for victims of domestic abuse?

Yep! My best friend and his mother were severely abused when he was a kid and he’s dedicated his life to helping other victims. My friends and family all help out there and so did I until…

He doesn’t need to finish the text. I know what he was going to say. We stopped doing everything we ever loved after the accident, the memories were just too painful. We’ve come so far and I want us to keep moving forward. I start to text that but another text comes through before I hit send.

I’m also thinking about buying a sketch book and drawing up ideas for new outdoor furniture.

Look at us growing!

Baby steps, and yeah, I’m proud of myself, too. This is big.

I’m so happy I’m able to keep him out of the dark hole he falls into so regularly. Humor usually does the trick, and so does changing the subject. So that’s what I do.

You go, girl! Exercise is important. Wouldn’t want those love handles of yours getting in the way of all that brilliant texting!

I love the banter that flows between us. The more we get to know each other, the more we joke around.

Dee, Dee, Dee, Dee, Dee… I think that we’ve already established the fact that A: I am indeed not a girl! And B: I am going to make this point very clear, young lady, so you better listen. I have already had other body parts get in the way while texting you and it hasn’t affected my brilliant texting in the least. So don’t start getting your panties in a bunch about any love handles, you.

Hah! And OOOOO! We haven’t crossed that line yet but what the hell. I go with it.

Very funny, “Mr. Big.” Glad your assets aren’t getting in the way!

I hear my name being called so before he gets a chance, I text:

GTG, big boy, It’s five o’clock somewhere.

Text me back soon, Dee, and let me know how everything’s going.

We say our goodbyes after I promise to keep him in the loop. These days I’ll take a laugh where I can get it because I know it won’t last long.

E makes me laugh and I love how well he knows me.

“JUSTIN!” WE GREET EACH OTHER with a “bro hug” as I enter Austin House, a shelter located in the industrial section of Santa Monica. It’s a refuge for victims of domestic abuse and wayward teens. A safe haven for them to get back on their feet. Austin House provides job training, skills, and assistance with finding employment. They also provide in-house schooling for the kids, along with extracurricular activities to keep them busy and out of trouble.

Both Justin and his mother, Mary, got involved with this shelter after she killed his father. She shot him in self-defense, to protect Justin from being beaten to death when he was a teenager. His dad was a very successful, well-respected criminal defense lawyer who people consistently cowed down to. He always had a very commanding presence but, in reality, he was really just a bully.

Justin was his greatest victim for the simple reason that he was his kid.

I still remember the day I found out my best friend was being abused by his father. It was after football practice. We’d been assigned that day to stay late to put away the equipment and clean up. When we finished, Justin started pulling off his sweaty jersey to throw into his locker. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing until I gasped. He was covered in welts. Not bruises…welts! I couldn’t breathe. I’ll never forget that argument; his body language screamed back off but his eyes were filled with fear.

“Justin! Shit, man. What happened to you? You look like you got the shit kicked out of you. What the fuck?!”

He froze mid-action and started pulling his shirt back down again. He looked so embarrassed but all he said was, “Nothing, man.”

I knew that was complete bullshit! My best friend’s body was completely black and blue and I was going to get answers. I was on my feet and in his face, before I even realized I was moving.

How in the hell is he covered in bruises?

I grabbed his shirt and started yanking it back up his body but I couldn’t get too far. He pushed me away as he pulled his shirt back down and then became furious. “I said it’s nothing!” he shouted.

I got back in his face and screamed, “BULLSHIT! I’ve known you since we were two fucking years old and I’ve never seen a goddamned bruise that looks like that on you before!”

Justin just looked at me. He didn’t say a word. All I got was silence but there was no way in hell I was going to let it go, so I sat back down and waited.

The time we sat in silence helped me to calm down. I needed him to talk, so in the calmest voice I could muster, I said, “Jus, there’s no one else here, man, and you know damn well I’m not letting you leave here until you tell me what happened. And don’t say you got that way playing football because I know that’s a complete lie.”

He had no choice and he knew it. He just sighed and looked at me. He then slid his ass to the floor and put his head down between his legs. He couldn’t even look at me when he said, “My dad.”

His dad got away with abusing both Justin and his mom for years and would have continued if she didn’t kill him. Nobody saw the abuse; he was very careful as to where he hit Justin and demanded the world perceive them as the perfect “Manhattan Beach” family. I was sworn to secrecy but knowing what was happening and being powerless to stop it nearly killed me.

My best friend tugs on my beard, bringing me back to the present. “You need to shave, bro,” he says as he lightly pats me on the cheek.

I swat his hand away. “Fuck off, asshat,” I say and turn toward the gym but not before finishing with, “And I’m not putting out, no matter how much you sweet talk me.”

And now he’s laughing. So without turning around, I give him the one-finger salute and add, “And I’m not polishing your toenails either. We have some b-ball to play.”

I’ve missed him. We’ve always been so close, more like brothers than friends, and it feels really great to be around him again.

“Ean!” Justin shouts to get my attention just as I’m opening the gym doors. I stop and turn around as he jogs to catch up. “I’m serious, man. You’re going to want to look your best for what I have planned.” I know that mischievous look in his gray eyes; whatever he has planned…cannot be good. Groaning, I say just that.

With a chuckle, he pulls out his phone, brings the screen to life, and turns it so I can read the opened email. I see the name on the screen and notice it’s from Shannon, Justin’s cousin, who lives in New York.

Shannon is less than a year younger than us. Growing up, she was always the light to Justin’s dark. She’s spontaneous, funny, and incredibly full of life. She’s always taken his serious nature as a challenge and spent our childhood forcing him out of his shell; she was always good for him. Shannon, Justin, Riley, and I were all inseparable when we were kids and since Justin never wanted to be at home, he practically lived with Shannon’s family and she always stayed by his side.

Like the rest of the world, Shannon and her family knew nothing about his father’s abuse. The discovery of what Justin and his mom had suffered through devastated Shannon’s parents so much that escape was the only option. They packed up and moved to New York when Shannon was just a teenager. I couldn’t blame them. I would have left too if it was possible.

“Aaand…” I say sarcastically, dragging out the word.

“Read it,” he says, shoving his phone in my face.

My eyes bug out as I read their exchange. “We’re going to New York?” I look up at him. “What the hell, man? I’m not fucking leaving.”

I’ve only recently been able to leave the house. There’s no way I have the strength to travel across the country.

“We’re spending Christmas in New York, bud,” he says using his, “you’re not going to win this one so don’t even try” voice and I know I’m not getting out of it, especially when he says, “I know what both Halloween and Thanksgiving were like for you and I’ll be damned if Christmas is going to be like that too.”

“We have a basketball game waiting for us,” I repeat, not wanting to get into it right now. I take a deep breath, pull the door open and when I enter the state-of-the-art gym, I put on my game face and walk calmly and confidently onto the full-sized court with only one thought in mind…We’re here for these kids.

The shelter was founded by Jayden Jaymes. Jay’s a wall of a man, who’s six-and-a-half-feet tall with a body made of iron. He has dark skin and even darker eyes. He can take a grown man down with just one look but is all sponge cake and fluff on the inside. Next to my dad, he’s the greatest man I’ve ever known.

Jay believes in giving these kids all the outlets they need to get their frustration and anger out in a healthy way and has spared no expense in achieving that. He doesn’t allow drugs in here or kids who are hooked on them. He does random drug screenings and has kicked out kids who were high. Everybody knows this and have grown to respect both him and Austin House.

Like all the residents here, his childhood was a nightmare. He never knew his dad. He grew up with a drug-addicted mother who would smack him around while telling him how worthless he was. He came home one day to his run-down apartment in South Central LA, to find all the money he had saved and his mother gone. With nothing but the clothes on his back, he turned to drugs; both selling and using them. He was on a one-way road to hell when fate, in the form of a police detective, stepped in and saved him. Jim Austin was working on the drug task force in his area when Jay was arrested in a sting operation. He saw something in Jay. Took him under his wing, got him cleaned up, and with Jay’s help, Jim was able to shut down and arrest several key leaders of one of the toughest street gangs in Los Angeles.

Thanks to Jim, Jay graduated high school and was accepted into the police academy. He worked his way up through the ranks and has been dedicating his life to the war against drugs ever since. He also opened Austin House, named in honor of the man who saved his life and the difference he’s made in the lives of the kids who live here is unparalleled.

Justin and I split the kids up into two teams and after a very spirited game, with a ton of smack talk, my team ends up kicking Justin’s team’s ass! Sweet, sweet victory, I can’t wait to rub it in.

I love being here. It gets me out of my head and makes it easier to breathe.

I ended up going to New York and it was amazing! It always is but there’s nothing like Christmas in Manhattan. Justin’s always been there for me when I’ve needed him the most. He has a sixth sense for what I need and when I need it, and our trip to New York was a testament to that.

Seeing Dee leave made me restless and lonely and even though I really didn’t want to be here over Christmas, the thought of leaving had me paralyzed. I texted her when I got home from the basketball game because I knew she’d be there for me and give me the push I needed. And she was. She calmed my nerves with her humor and guided me with her wisdom. I’m so grateful for having Dee in my life because she’s given me back the strength I lost and that strength got me on the plane to New York.

We did the whole touristy thing. Ice-skating in Rockefeller Center followed by frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity 3. We hung out in Times Square, saw Finding Neverland, and ate dinner at Ellen’s Stardust Diner, one of my favorite restaurants in the city. All of the servers there are aspiring actors and take turns singing. You cannot be in there and not smile. Our last night was spent at the Pegu Club. Some of the best mixologists in Manhattan came together to create this amazing “cocktail joint” that serves the most amazing and unusual drinks. Shannon got the Earl Grey MarTEAni while Justin and I worked our way through the menu.

Flying home with a massive hangover wasn’t pretty but it was well worth it.

I REALIZE I DON’T WANT to stay with my mother anymore, things aren’t going well. We’ve only been here a short time but she’s never home and I wonder why we even came. I know what she’s like, I grew up with it, but this time it’s hurting Chloe and that’s not okay.

My best friend, Sandi, has agreed to take Chloe for the weekend so I can talk to my mother and figure out what I’m going to do. Her daughter, Kara, is Chloe’s age and the two of them are as thick as thieves, so I know my daughter will love hanging out there.

Sandi and I have been friends since the first grade. I still remember the day we met, like it was yesterday.

“He’s so mean!”

Sandi was sitting on the ground in the playground at recess crying, her knee scraped up. She was pushed off the swing set by Matthew, the class bully. Her curly red hair was mussed and her green eyes were red from tears.

“I HATE HIM!” she cried.

“I hate him too,” I said.

She looked up at me through her tear-covered lashes. “My knee hurts.” I didn’t know her but I sat down beside her and hugged her.

We’ve been best friends ever since. We suffered through first dates, first kisses, first loves, and first heartbreaks. I practically lived at her house after my dad died. We shared a dorm room in college. She was the first one I told when I met Scott and was my maid of honor. She was there for me when Scott died, listening to me sob through the phone and I really appreciated the fact that she was supportive when I asked her not to come up for the funeral. Aside from E, she was the only other person who encouraged me to move back down here.

After dropping Chloe off, I head home to speak to my mother. I’ve always hated any type of confrontation but seeing her sitting on the couch, in the middle of the day, with a gin and tonic in her hand makes what’s about to happen a lot easier to stomach. And when I see her bloodshot eyes? I snap.

“Mom, Chloe and I are leaving.”

“Danielle, you just got here and you’re having such a lovely visit. I can’t see why you’d want to leave?” A lovely visit?

I thought about lying, but since the accident, I just can’t bring myself to do that anymore. She also doesn’t deserve it.

“No, Mom,” I seethe. “We’re not having a lovely visit. You’re never home and when you are…you’re drunk.” I can hear the volume of my voice rising but I honestly don’t have it in me to care. “You were too drunk to come up for the funeral and now you’re too drunk to even spend any time with Chloe!”

I know I’m being incredibly blunt and hurtful but it’s the truth and she needs to hear it.

“Whoa, how dare you talk to me that way in my own home, young lady.” My mom huffs while taking a swig of her gin and tonic. Really?

“I’m not going to apologize for stating the truth, Mom, so we’ll just be going.”

Regret flashes in her eyes. It’s just a second and she quickly recovers but I notice. As quickly as the emotion appears, it disappears, and her eyes then become filled with…righteous indignation?

“I never get any chance to spend time with my granddaughter!” she hollers.

This makes my blood boil! We drove down here. We’ve been here. She hasn’t. She can’t be bothered to be away from her “boyfriends” or her alcohol long enough to spend time with us and it’s my fault?

I tell her all that and I really want to say more. I want to call her a whore and an alcoholic. I want to lash out at her for all the hurt I’ve built up over the years. Not only from my childhood but also from her not being there for me when I lost Scott. Instead, I say, “We’ve been here.”

I take her silence as a cue to continue and again find myself, getting angrier with every word I tell her. “Chloe was excited to see her nana and she’s been sad she hasn’t been able to. We’re alone most of the time, and if I wanted that, I could have stayed at home!”

She lowers her head and actually sets her glass down on the coffee table. I know I should have stopped there. I really should have, but I’m on a roll and it feels so good to finally be getting this off my chest.

“Look, Mom, I get it,” I say in a now calmer voice. “I raised myself and stayed local for college in case you needed me. But the second I needed you…” I emphasize the word, you, with a pointed stare. “You weren’t there and now you’re not even here. So don’t go and tell me this is even remotely my fault.”

“Danielle,” she says sternly, once again using my full name to get my attention. And damn if that doesn’t sting since Scott always said it with so much love. “I apologize for not being around during your visit.”

That’s it?! No apologies for everything else I just said? Seriously? That’s all she’s apologizing for? I can’t understand why I ever expect anything different.

“That’s fine, Mom,” I say and to extend an olive branch, I add, “We’ll be here a few more days if you want to spend time with Chloe.”

She looks up at me and sighs. “I do.”

When I look at her skeptically, she adds, “I really do want to spend more time with my granddaughter. I promise to be around more.”

“Let’s see how the next few days go and if you are around more, I’ll consider staying. But make no mistake, if I see you drunk in front of Chloe, just one time, we’re gone. That is something that I will never tolerate!”

She looks at me, nods, grabs her drink, and silently leaves the room.

I fall onto the sofa she just vacated, cover my face with my arm, and blow a heavy sigh. I hate hurting her and this whole thing has left me feeling incredibly sad. It’s times like this when I really need E. He always knows the right things to say to cheer me up. It’s incredible how close we’ve become and how alike we think. He’s become my rock as I’ve become his. And we’ve never even spoken.

Knowing what I need, I gather myself together and go upstairs to text E.

I had it out with my mom today.

He knows about everything that’s been going on. Our daily texts haven’t stopped, if anything, they’ve become more frequent. I’ve grown to depend on him like I depend on water and air to survive.

What happened?

That’s my E, always quick to respond and always there for me.

I went off on her, E. I lashed out at her for never being around; for always being drunk and for not even having the decency to come to the funeral.

Ouch! How’d that go?

It wasn’t pretty. I said some very hurtful things but it felt really good. After everything that’s happened in my life, I’m over any type of bullshit.

Good for you! How did it end?

She asked me to stay and I told her we would if she’s around more. Then I told her if I see her drunk at all around my daughter, we’re gone.

What are you thinking of doing?

I’m going to stay, at least for one more week. If she proves herself then I think I may stay longer.

Is that what you want to do?

I had planned on asking you your opinion when the time drew near. So the answer to your question is, I don’t know.

You know me and my opinion are always here for you, babe.

He always makes me smile.

And that’s what I adore about your humble self. You always put a smile on my face, even when I’m blue.

I aim to please. So, you’re playing it by ear?

Yeah.

What are you going to do if you stay?

I have a friend here who teaches at her daughter’s preschool and she told me they have an opening for an assistant art teacher. I could put my daughter in school and be able to work near her daily, which I would enjoy.

That sounds really great. Have you ever thought about moving in with your friend, eventually finding your own place and maybe staying…for good?

I’ve been thinking a lot about this and from the pause in his question, I can see he has too.

Actually, that doesn’t sound horrible and I’ve thought about doing just that. But I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right, E. My in-laws adore us. They’ve always been there for us, despite their own pain. I know they’d miss us fiercely.

Well, it looks like your decision is made. If your mom steps up, stay there for a little while longer. Take the job and put your daughter in preschool. It’s what you wanted to do when you originally went back home. Being free to figure everything out is the reason you left and I think it’ll be really good for you. A routine of sorts…some stability.

When did you get so smart?

Did we just start texting?

Well, I know that you’re funny in a very dry way. Sarcasm, can’t forget that one. You love quoting random shit. You have exceptionally bad taste in food. You don’t really watch the best movies, you have questionable taste in music and, oh yeah! When we text, things keep getting in the way of your brilliant texting, but you’re so great that it never stops you.

I really enjoy being sassy with him.

You’re lucky you put in that last part.

Oh, and you may be a bit smart too.

God, I love you!

Wow! That was the first time he’s ever said those three words outright. I know he’s just saying them in an “in the moment” kind of way and probably didn’t think anything when he typed them, but he still said it. I’m not ready to go anywhere near there just yet, but I do love him and surprisingly, I’m okay with that. What I have with E…I just can’t put into words.

Back at you, babe! I have to get going but I’ll text and keep you in the loop.

Thanks! I care about you and I worry so I appreciate it.

I know he does and that’s why I always respond to his texts so quickly.

I feel the same way! Text you soon.

Bye, my love! Be good.

My love. I smile.

WITH SANDI’S HELP I GET a job at Children’s World in North Escondido. It’s a cute little school full of bright colors and filled with great teachers who really care about the kids. The owners of Children’s World believe that music and art encourage creativity, and I wholeheartedly agree. I was raised with music and have pursued art my entire adult life.

I love being around Chloe every day. She’s doing exceptionally well though I expected nothing less. She’s made a ton of new friends and has become even closer with Sandi’s daughter Kara. She’s also becoming close friends with Annie, the daughter of another teacher named Beth, who I’m also growing close to.

I’m actually happy, or at least my new version of happy. Chloe and I are settling into a routine just like E suggested, and it’s been nice. I need to tell him that. It’s my lunch break, so I head off to a quiet spot to text.

E.

Hey, babe!

I love it here! Thanks for the push. I took your advice and as always, you’re right. So far, the stability has done us both a world of good.

Wow, that’s great, babe. You sound happy and that makes me smile.

He knows I took the job, but it’s been a busy few days and we haven’t texted as much as I’d like…I’ve missed him. I just didn’t realize how much until right now.

Thanks, E. I am happy. It’s a great little school. We’ve both made new friends and it’s been really great to be able to work and spend time with my daughter all day. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much.

You never need to apologize for getting on with your life.

I’m apologizing for not being here for you. If you haven’t noticed, E, you’re a huge part of my life. I’d never be where I am today if it weren’t for you.

I feel the exact same way. I love the fact that we text all the time but I also understand life sometimes gets in the way. And to be perfectly honest, just knowing you’re around makes me feel less alone.

I’ve really missed you, E.

I’ve missed you too, Dee. And not to throw a wrench on this love-fest but how’s it been going on at the home front?

Ugh! Thinking about my mother always throws any good mood I may be having out the window.

My mom’s been trying but we both know it won’t last. Einstein’s definition of insanity is “Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” If you google it, you’ll see my picture.

(Evil villain laugh) I finally get to see what you look like… Wait a minute.

Why did he stop texting?

Ugh! Not a flattering picture.

Oh my God, E!

I burst with a laugh so loud that a few people actually look my way. I love our banter.

Did you just go online and look up the definition of insanity to see if my picture was there?

I did but I didn’t expect you to be an old man with crazy gray hair and an overgrown mustache.

You’re cracking me up! And here I thought they got my better side. I’ll have to face the other way next time. But seriously, E. Thanks for everything…the laugh included.

I’m really happy for you, Dee.

So far, so good, I guess. And that is saying a lot.

You’re on the right track so keep going.

You do know that the light at the end of the tunnel is another train, right?

LOL! And yes, I do know that. I’m that schmuck who’s always on that stupid train!

I’m right there with ya, and thanks for being my other half on this journey.

That’s what I’m here for.

How about you? You said that you were going to start running again. Are you actually working on those looove handles?

Let’s put it this way. I could model for GQ if I wanted to.

Hah and oooooo! I’m positive that he’s handsome. I imagine he has a lean, well-sculpted body, and I have no doubt he could model if he wanted to.

Well, that’s good those love handles will no longer be getting in the way! We can’t have anything interfering with all your brilliant texting. That would be a tragedy!

Do you not remember our previous discussion regarding my love handles? Or do I need to remind you?

I smile at the memory.

Nope! Still got a pretty vivid memory of that one. I think it’s been seared into my brain.

As it should be.

I hate to change the mood but I need to ask him about building furniture again. I know he abandoned his passion after the accident and the fact that he bought a sketchbook and started designing again shows me he misses it. I know it’ll help him move forward if he picks it up again. But I also know he’s scared, when your life suddenly gets stolen out from under you, everything is scary.

It’s my turn for the wrench, E. Any more thought on creating furniture again?

No.

Oh God, he’s going back to one-word answers. That’s not going to stop me though. I know him well enough now to be able to turn his mood around and I’m determined to help him like he’s helped me.

We’ve talked about this and we’ve already taken the first steps. I know you’re scared to go back into that again but it would be the best thing you could do. Your brilliant mind will be occupied again. You’re creative, E, just like me. You need this.

I know, sweetheart. I’m just not ready.

YES. YOU. ARE! I know it! You know it! When we hang up I want you to sit down. I want you to open that sketchbook of yours and I want you to draw something…for me. I’ll be with you, of course; texting exactly what I like, so you’ll make exactly what I want.

We’ve been spending a lot of time lately texting about him picking up that part of his life again. Through our texts, I got him to clear out his garage and get a drafting table and chair set up so he could work. I wanted him to also put in a love seat, table, and mini fridge so he could be comfortable, but he adamantly refused. It was how his store was set up before the accident and I can’t blame him for not wanting to see the same setup. It was slow-going and took a lot of convincing and a lot of virtual hand-holding but we got it done.

Getting him to actually sit in there? Work in there? Well, let’s just say we’re still working on that. Baby steps.

For you?

I can sense his disbelief and imagine him sitting on his couch with a scowl on his face; a scowl that I plan on erasing, and keeping away for good. Asking him to do it for me got him to Thanksgiving dinner, so going with what works, I continue:

Yes, for me! I’m heading home soon and I don’t have any outdoor furniture. I’d like a small dining table, four chairs, and a couple of lounge chairs with a small table to go between them. I feel like what you make for me should be bright. You bring that out in me. Summery, bright, and beachy!

Beachy?

Yes, summery, bright, and beachy! Are you even listening?!

I’m listening.

And you’re stalling!

I am.

I know he is but I also know he can do this; so I tell him just that.

Babe, I know you can do this! I have so much confidence in you and I’ll be with you every step of the way, like I always am. Why don’t we make a date? Text me from your garage and we can work on it, together. That way I’ll get to work with the best and get exactly what I want. A win-win! Come on, let’s do this!

Okay.

Okay?!

Again, why do I always question him whenever he gives me the answer I want to hear?

Okay.

YES!

And that’s exactly what we do. I have Sandi take Chloe for another weekend. I tell her I want to spend some time alone with my mom—a lie because my mom told me she’d be gone the entire weekend—but she buys it, which I’m extremely thankful for. E and I spend the entire weekend designing my furniture. We get on the same websites and pick out paint colors and fabric patterns. It takes a long time; we stop to eat a few times and plenty of alcohol is consumed, but we do it.

It goes so well that we even go to the hardware store and together, albeit through texts, we buy the tools and materials for my new furniture which is now sitting in his garage.

I think all our joking around helped him forget the significance of what he was actually doing, but I didn’t forget it. I know what he’s doing is huge for him. It’s a clusterfuck of emotions for me though. We came up with a bunch of stuff I know I’d love, but will never see.

Having said that, I know once everything is built, seeing all the completed work in his garage will bring a smile to his face and hopefully encourage him to continue down this new road. And that thought alone makes me happy.

Now I just have to work on me.

“ERIC, IT’S EAN MONTGOMERY.”

Calling my realtor was difficult but it needed to be done. Eric understood why I broke the lease on my storefront and even though he only does commercial real estate, he was more than happy to help me find a new place to live.

Dee told me she was leaving because everybody she came in contact with kept inundating her with words of sympathy and stares of pity. I know both. I hate both! But I also know the main reason she left was because she was scared shitless of facing her first Christmas without her husband. When she told me she was going, I tried to reassure her with humor, support, and friendship—while never mentioning I knew the main reason why she was leaving—she didn’t need to be called out, she just needed me to be there for her.

I was surprised Dee actually moved away. But I found I was even more surprised at how I felt after she left. We aren’t together, not in the literal sense, but for some strange reason, knowing she was nearby helped. She has a way of pulling me out of the dark hole I often find myself in, without even realizing she’s doing it. She’s my light! She’s strong and she’s brave. She can raise my spirits with just her thumbs, even when they weigh over a thousand pounds. Her words and actions have given me the ability to move forward. Going to New York turned out to be a great thing and I know this’ll also be a really good thing for me.

Knowing she was on the road was harder than I imagined; I was scared out of my mind for her safety. Needless to say, when I heard my phone ping with a text from her, I was finally able to breathe. And then smile.

In her text, she accidentally blurted out that her mom’s an alcoholic. She panicked and immediately apologized. It was adorable how worried she became about breaking our unwritten rule of divulging too much information. Dee and I have grown even closer since Thanksgiving and she needed to know that although I don’t plan on breaking our rule, I love how comfortable we’ve become with one another and I’m never going to fault her for being herself. So to reassure her, I told her my parents’ and sister’s names. I also called her “Dee” for the first time instead of just using the letter D. She loved the nickname and was instantly relieved, so I’ve been calling her Dee ever since. I also told her I love her. I absolutely do love her but I could never love another woman the way I loved Alyssa. Knowing Dee, I’m sure she took it the way it was intended. At least I hope she did.

I love the witty repartee that flows between us. Sometimes I wish I could hear her voice but I won’t cross that line. There’s something very comforting about only communicating through texts.

The house I’m renting is in Hermosa Beach on a quiet street that runs parallel to the ocean and is within walking distance of both the beach and the commercial part of town. Since the houses are so close to each other, I was pleased to see the one next to mine was vacant. Even though I plan on getting out more and finally start running with Po again, I’m still not ready to socialize or make new friends.

The move was hard. I didn’t tell a soul. I wanted to do it on my own; no, I needed to do it on my own. I only took what I needed to survive; a few memories and some important documents. I was in and out in record time. My house is not a home without them in it and the silence was so loud it was deafening.

I still can’t bring myself to sell it. As unrealistic and insane as it sounds, Dee and I are both still holding out the hope that this whole thing is just one big, horrifying nightmare. I didn’t cry when I packed up because I didn’t let myself feel. I knew if I did, I’d completely break down and would probably never leave. I’ve come too far to go back. I’m finally in a place where the pain in my heart doesn’t make taking a breath an impossible task and it’s for that reason I won’t ever go back.

I just had dinner in my backyard and I’m staring into my garage, thinking about Dee and the furniture I just built for her. I’m proud of myself for taking this step. Dee used every distraction under the sun to take my mind off the significance of what I was doing. I indulged her partly because she also needed a distraction. She’s been miserable living with her mother. The other reason I indulged her was because I needed the distraction. I buried my passion when I buried my family. I didn’t want to ever design and build furniture again but Dee was absolutely right. I did miss it. My mind missed being creative, my hands missed the feeling of the wood in them, my nose missed the smell of the sawdust and my ears missed the sounds of the tools as they shaped what would become my masterpiece. I just didn’t realize how much I missed it until she brought it up.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe I made this!” I hear myself say and completely lose it. I start laughing, HARD! The hysterical, uncontrollable type of laughter where you’re doubled over with pain in your sides and tears in your eyes. “Oh my God! I made furniture again!”

After I dry my eyes I look around. Really look around. The furniture I made is fucking fantastic! I still have it.

Dee told me she wanted something summery, bright and beachy. I love that she said I bring that out in her. We actually bring that out in each other. When she first brought up the idea of making furniture again, I immediately shut down. But Dee, like she always does, turned my mood around. She also pulled out her secret weapon, she asked me to do it for her. I can never deny her and that’s why I’m staring at a garage full of Adirondack style furniture.

Seeing something tangible in relation to Dee makes her seem more real and for the first time in…forever, my cock twitches and comes to life. When my wife died, my libido died right along with her. I never thought it would come back and I’m surprised that seeing the furniture I built would reawaken that part of my body. Maybe it’s the fact that I built it for Dee. Who knows what made him want to come out to play. I’m just glad it’s happening.

I run my hand down over the bulge in my shorts and squeeze to relieve the pressure. Needing relief, I quickly head inside. The minute I get to the couch, I take out my aching cock and close my eyes.

“Dee, I need you,” I breathe.

I picture her between my legs, on her knees, with her full pouty lips parted in anticipation. I fist my cock imagining those lips closing around it, encasing me in the wet heat of her mouth. Waiting for me to fuck it. Begging for me to hit the back of her throat.

In my mind’s eye, I see her eyes darken and fill with so much lust that the flecks of nature in them completely disappear. I imagine she has thick dark hair, streaked with sunshine and soft to the touch as my fingers grab onto it while setting the pace.

“Yesss,” I hiss as I brush my thumb over my crown spreading the pre-come down my shaft for lubrication before closing my fist with a tight, slick grip while picturing her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks me, deep. I spread my legs and move my other hand down to my balls, rolling them between my fingers while also paying extra attention to my perineum. I’m extremely sensitive in both those places and my cock jerks in response.

With my eyes closed, I take a deep breath in through my nose and swear I can smell her. She smells like fresh air and springtime. Her scent brings my orgasm to the surface but I want this to last so with need burning in my gut, I slow my strokes, enjoying the edge.

Dee moves faster, taking me deeper with each pass, her perfect tits bouncing as she moans around me; the vibration traveling down my spine making my balls draw up with the need to shoot my load.

I’m so close and so desperate to get the hell off right fucking now.

I run my thumb back over my slit, picturing Dee’s tongue swirling over it at each pass. Her lips, red and swollen, her face flushed, her hair mussed by my fingers and it’s that image that hurls me over the edge. I fall…fast and hard.

“DEEEEE!” I scream while lights explode behind my eyelids and liquid heat surges violently out of me as I come harder than I can remember coming in a very long time.

Limp and shaky, I melt into the cushions, gasping for breath. As I touch back down to earth, I picture pulling her up onto me, kissing her deeply, enjoying the taste of my come on her tongue and I make a promise to myself, a promise I intend to keep. One day I will make this a reality.

I COME OUTSIDE TO FIND Beth and Sandi ogling the fathers dropping off their kids and can’t help but laugh. This is something they do on a regular basis and when I chide them about being married, Sandi says, “Just because we’re on a diet…” and, in unison, they add, “Doesn’t mean we can’t look at the menu.”

They both fall into a fit of giggles and I can’t help myself from joining in. The two of them are incorrigible. When I tell them this, Beth shrugs and Sandi winks and then asks, “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

“I have my babysitter ready to take all the girls,” Beth offers.

These women are funny and sweet and their antics have helped me take my mind off my mother and just live in the present. Being out will be good for both me and Chloe. It’s not like my mom is even home waiting; even though I insisted she be. I sigh. She only lasted a couple of weeks.

“I’m in,” I tell them.

“Yay!” Beth says while Sandi just smiles and nods. She knows I rarely go out anymore and I can tell she’s happy with my decision.

When I get home from work I turn on a movie for Chloe and head up to my room to text E. He’s kept me sane and I like to keep him up to date about what’s going on.

I’m going out with the girls tomorrow night.

As usual, he texts me back quickly which always makes me happy.

You go, girl!

HEY! That’s my line!

I’m serious, Dee. It’ll be good for you and it’s not like your mom’s waiting at home for you.

It makes me sad how true that is.

I know, how sad is that. I specifically insisted she stop drinking and be home more and look what happened.

I know, babe, but you were expecting that.

Not a question.

I know but it’s still disappointing. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Either that or I’m really stupid.

You are not stupid! You’re just optimistic and that’s never a bad thing. You like to see the best in people even if they’re not capable of it.

I sigh. He’s right but it also sets me up for disappointment.

Thanks, E! You always say the right things.

That’s what I’m here for. Go out, have fun, and get your mind off your mom.

I will.

Are you going to tell them you’re leaving?

E and I have texted, at length, about me leaving San Diego. I don’t want to put it off any longer. My mom’s not going to change and I really miss Beverly and Rodger.

Yeah, that’s another reason I’m doing this. I’m not looking forward to telling them but it has to be done.

Just rip off the Band-Aid quickly so you can enjoy your night. From what you’ve told me, I’m sure they’ll understand.

They will. Wish me luck.

Luck.

A man of so many words. I’ll text you after dinner?

I’ll be waiting and seriously, Dee, everything will be okay.

Thanks, babe.

: )

So far it’s been a great night. We’re at a Hacienda de Vega, a fabulous Mexican restaurant that’s been around forever. It’s nestled in an old adobe and the wood-beamed ceilings, white-washed walls and Saltillo tiles makes it feel very authentic. It’s a gorgeous night, we’re sitting on the patio surrounded by a lush garden filled with tropical flowers and I love it. Even though I don’t want to ruin the night, I have to tell them.

“I’m leaving San Diego tomorrow,” I announce quickly after taking a large sip of my Patron Cadillac margarita for “liquid courage.”

Nothing like “ripping off the Band-Aid,” as E says.

Sandi chokes on her margarita, spitting it across the table, while Beth freezes, a chip halfway to her mouth.

“W-what?!” Sandi stammers while trying to wipe off what landed on her top.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys earlier but I actually didn’t fully decide I was leaving until I got home from work today.” They don’t need to know E and I already decided I’m leaving. Or that I turned in my notice last week.

I sigh, take an even larger sip of my drink, and continue. “My mom’s never home and when she is, she’s drunk. It isn’t good for Chloe and, well, it isn’t good for me either.”

Sandi makes a “pfft” sound and although Beth has closed her mouth and put down her chip, she still hasn’t said a word. So I continue.

“Scott’s parents really miss us, and I miss them too. My friend Lysee is holding a waitressing position open at the local health food restaurant where she works that’s just down the street from my house. I really need to get away from my mom, guys. It’s really for the best.”

“What about maybe you getting an apartment here?” Beth asks after finding her voice.

Sandi shakes her head and turns her gaze from Beth to me. “I know you and I know I can’t persuade you to stay.” Then she sighs. “Once you make up your mind…” She trails off as she picks up her margarita also taking a very large sip. “I understand that, but waitressing? You don’t want to get back into design?”

The look on her face is incredulous and maybe a little disapproving, and the way she says “waitressing” is filled with way too much derision. But I’m not ready to go back into design…I don’t think I ever will be. I did that with Scott and since he’s not here…

Nope, not doing that again. That part of my life is over.

She’s passing unfair judgment and I find myself getting annoyed. “The waitressing thing is temporary,” I say in a defensive tone, not sure why I’m even justifying myself. “And Scott’s mom is going to help get Chloe into a preschool near us and will help take care of her.” I take another drink of my margarita to calm down and keep talking. “They’re really excited to have us back and I may look into being a teacher’s assistant again. But just…not now…”

“I’m going to miss you,” Sandi says with a tear in her eye.

“Me too,” chimes in Beth. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”

“Well, I’m not gone yet,” I say trying to lighten the mood and add that they should come and visit us in Hermosa Beach once we get settled. I let them know that Chloe will miss their girls and they should make a vacation out of it. They both agree and we spend the rest of the night laughing and drinking.

It makes me sad to leave but I have to…for my sanity.

Dee…

I hope she answers. Ever since I rubbed one out the other day, I’ve been thinking about her nonstop. What does she look like? How does she feel? What sounds does she make when she comes? Does she really smell like fresh air and springtime? SHIT! I’m hard just thinking about it. I also know she just told her friends she’s leaving and I know what I’m about to do will definitely get her mind off her woes.

Hey, babe!

Thank fuck! I’m going for it. I know she has no idea what I’m asking, but she’s about to.

What are you wearing?

What?

Are you in bed?

E?

Just go with it, babe. It’s been a long fucking time and we both need this. I certainly do.

Dee, do you trust me?

Of course, I do! You never need to ask me that.

It’s been a long time for both of us and neither of us are ever going to consider being sexual with anyone else. Can we try this? Please? Use the voice command to text.

Okay

THIS IS SO HAPPENING!

What are you wearing?

A cami and sleep shorts…pink lace.

Hah! Judging by the pause in her text she’s probably wearing a ratty old t-shirt and yoga pants but I’ll go with it.

Mmmm, are you in bed?

Yes.

My clothes are on the floor and my hand is wrapped around my now rock-hard cock.

Lie on your back, baby.

E…I’m so ready for you, I need you.

I’m so hard I hurt.

I’m naked. Take off your clothes, Dee.

They’re off.

Fuck yeah! My hips jerk off the couch at the image of her lying on her back, naked, needy and all mine. This is so much better than when I was doing this alone. I just pray I don’t come before we get started.

Pretend I’m kissing you. My tongue is touching your lips, soft like a feather. I’m nibbling on your bottom lip seeking entry. You open up for me and we kiss. A slow, passionate kiss that makes your toes curl. God, you feel so good. Your mouth feels so good and you taste so sweet. Do you feel me, Dee?

My eyes are closed. I’m so into this that my hand is moving on its own accord.

Yes…God, E. You taste so good…

So many nights spent dreaming about what she looks like and the image of her naked and touching herself is sending me into a tailspin. It’s all-encompassing and the need to come is desperate and painful.

I’m kissing down your neck with soft kisses and bites. I’m licking a path behind your ear and nibbling on your lobe, pulling it into my mouth. Wet your finger and follow my tongue. Are you following me?

I’m pumping my hand faster up and down my shaft, rubbing my thumb over the slit at each pass while my other hand is roaming around my body as if it were roaming around hers.

Yes!

How do I feel, sweetheart?

Feel me, Dee. Please…please feel me!

God, E! Your tongue is so warm and your stubble feels so good against my skin. I’m so hot.

She can feel me! So good…

I’m licking my way down to your breasts. God, babe, you have such perfect tits! So full, so ready for my mouth. I’m licking around your nipples, you taste so good. Are you following my tongue? My mouth is covering them, gently biting them. Pinch your nipples, play with them.

Oh, God, E, I need more.

God, I do too.

What do you need, my love?

It’s just like I’m there with her. I’m going to give you exactly what you need, Dee!

I need you between my legs, I need your mouth on me. I need you licking me and sucking me into your mouth. I need your fingers in me. I need…aaah! My back is arching off the bed trying to get closer to you to relieve the pressure. I just…need you.

Deee…

I can smell her, I can taste her! I’m so into this, I never want it to stop. Her words have my hips jerking higher and my hands moving even faster.

I love your cock. So hard, so perfect. I’m running my tongue down your shaft, licking it, slowly, tasting your need, salty and sweet just like you and it’s so, so good. Feel me. Feel my tongue, trace it with your finger. Wrap your hand around yourself. That’s me. E. My tight grip holding you as I open my mouth to take all of you into my hot, wet mouth.

Aaaah, Dee! Yes, my hand is wrapped around my cock, I feel you. Don’t stop…

I can’t hold back!

I’m taking your cock back into my mouth, sucking you in. All. The. Way. To. The. Root. I want you to shoot it down my throat, E. I want to suck every drop out of you. Having you in my mouth is so good, I can’t stop moaning. Do you feel the vibration?

HOLY SHIT! I can really feel her. It’s like I’m really with her! I can feel her mouth wrapped around my cock and it’s so good. So very, very good…

God, Dee! I need to be inside you. Touch yourself. Move your hand down to your pussy. Run your finger through your luscious folds and over your clit, put your fingers inside you. That’s my cock, baby. I’m slowly entering you. You feel so good. So tight, so fucking hot…

AAAAHHHYESSSS!

God, your cock feels so good in me. I’m so full. My fingers are plunging in and out of me. I need more, more friction. Harder, E. Pump harder, faster…aaaahhh…

I’m out of control! Being buried in her tight pussy, surrounded by her heat, is making me go out of my mind! YES!

I’m pumping so fast now. Take your thumb and rub it against your clit. Make yourself come, Dee. Our bodies are slapping together and our moans are filling the room.

I’m so lost in the moment that I can’t see straight, can’t think. I feel the tingle at the base of my spine. My balls are tight; I’m so fucking close…

Yes! Don’t stAAHHEEEECOMMMING!

Her orgasm hurls me over the edge.

Fuck yeah baby! I’m COMINGTOOOAAAHHH!

I can’t catch my breath. My heart is hammering, my ears are ringing and spots of white lights are clouding my vision. Being with her, like this, knowing what she’s feeling…I’m so thankful we did this. I feel fan-fucking-tastic!

So beautiful, Dee! So fucking beautiful! I love you so fucking much!

Shit! I really do.

I love you too, babe…WOW! Can we do that again?

Hah! I just need a minute to recover. I’m still seeing spots and my ears are still ringing. I haven’t come that hard in a very long time.

Thank you, E. I feel sooo much better!

Night, sweetheart.

Night, babe.

I head to my room on wobbly legs. My head is still swimming, my ears are still ringing and my vision is still blurred. With thoughts of Dee in my head, I quickly fall asleep with a big goofy grin on my face and have one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a really long time.

“YOU READY TO GO BACK home, sweetheart?” I ask Chloe as I’m strapping her into her car seat in my old Ford. I didn’t plan on leaving while it was still dark out but sleep evaded me last night. After four long months in San Diego, I’m eager to get back to Hermosa Beach and I figure Chloe can sleep in the car.

I pull out my special phone and text E before we get on the road. Since it’s so early in the morning, I don’t expect a response but I know he’d want to know I’m heading home and I plan on letting him know we arrived when we get there. We’re both very vigilant on letting each other know we’re safe when driving anywhere.

I’m on my way home.

After sexting last night, I feel even closer to him. Although it was virtual, being intimate bonded us more than words ever could. I also said things I’d never have the courage to say if he was actually there with me. That’s the main reason I couldn’t sleep. Although I find it strange to have sexual feelings for someone I’ve never met, I couldn’t get the image of him naked and touching himself out of my mind. I’ve absolutely pictured him naked before but never like that. Now I can’t get him out of my head.

I can’t wait to get home. I know I’m never going to meet him. We have an unspoken agreement. We started out simply saving each other but over these past months and countless hours of texts, our friendship has transformed into love. What we have together is special and pure and it belongs only to us. We were both married to the loves of our lives. That love will never die, but now we have our love and neither of us will EVER ruin that by crossing any of those dangerous lines.

We’re halfway through our drive home when Chloe asks me a question that breaks my heart and reminds me why I left in the first place.

“Is Daddy going to be there?” she asks with a hopeful tone in her voice.

“No, he’s not, sweet pea,” I answer with a heavy heart. “Remember what I told you? Daddy is living in the sky with the angels. But Grandma and Papa will be there.”

“YAY!” She giggles and I thank God it’s so easy to redirect a five-year-old. Breaking the news to her about her dad was so hard and it never gets any easier when she asks about him.

Chloe turned five last December. My mother made an appearance to wish her granddaughter a happy birthday but that was all she did. I knew she wouldn’t have a gift so I bought one for her to give to Chloe.

Rodger and Beverly, on the other hand, went all out. They sent her a box filled with gifts and balloons. When Chloe opened the box and balloons floated out, she squealed, liking the balloons almost as much as the collection of Frozen paraphernalia they sent. There was a party at her preschool and later, Sandi, Beth, and I took the girls down to San Diego to spend the day at Sea World.

As soon as we get close to home I pull off to the side of the road to text E. He sent me a text which I read when I stopped for gas. Be safe was all it said, but his words screamed volumes. I know he’s on pins and needles, waiting to hear I made it home safe. I would be too if the situation were reversed.

Almost back in the South Bay. I’m meeting the in-laws and may be busy. I didn’t want you to worry.

Since my car is old, it acts up a lot. I’m thankful we make it home in one piece. I’ve been putting off getting a new car, but I know it’s time. Scott and I had planned on going car shopping before he was killed and after…well, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. But now I don’t feel safe driving it anymore, so I plan on talking to Rodger as soon as I’m home to make the change. Sometimes when I apply the brakes it lunges forward. I know this, so I stop far enough behind the car in front of me so I won’t hit it if the brakes don’t stick.

It’s still early when I arrive and the usually busy streets are eerily quiet. As I’m driving up the road towards my house a large golden blur runs out in front of my car. I slam my foot on the brakes but my truck lurches forward.

SCREECH! BUMP!

OH MY GOD!

“Wait in the car, baby!” I shout as I jump out. “Mommy will be right back.”

I rush around to the front of the car and when I see a dog lying unconscious in the street, I lose it and start sobbing. I fall to the ground and gently place the dog’s head on my lap, trying to get it to wake up. At the sound of heavy footsteps, I look up and see a man in workout clothes running towards us. He sees the dog on my lap, turns white as a ghost, and freezes. He’s rooted to the spot as if stuck in cement. The look on his face is beyond sheer terror; he’s haunted. I know that look. I live it, every goddamn day of my life. His eyes are wide and empty. It’s as if he’s not even in his body anymore. Something unimaginable must have happened to him, because this is beyond any sort of normal reaction. He looks from his dog to me to my car and back at his dog again. I watch as his eyes gain focus and my heart breaks when he cries out in agony, repeating the word “no” over and over again.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter. “He ran in front of my car and…” My tears stop me from saying anything more. This can’t be happening.

He looks up at the sky, closes his eyes, and mouths words, too quiet for me to hear.

When he looks at me again, he shakes his head, which must have killed the fog he’s been in because his eyes fill with rage, his face turns red, and he starts shouting.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“I…” I can’t finish my sentence because the look in his eyes has me paralyzed.

Still standing in the same spot, still rooted to the ground, he looks at me with so much agony I sob again, harder. I know people become attached to their dogs but this reaction is different, so very different. I know immediately this must be about something so much bigger than his dog. He crouches down and puts his hands behind his neck, his elbows on his thighs, his eyes facing downward. He stays that way for several heartbeats before he straightens up and looks at me once again. But he’s not looking at me, he is just looking out into space…completely lost.

What happened to you?

“I don’t have my car,” he mutters in a resigned voice, more to himself than to me. He starts pacing back and forth a few times, mumbling about not having his keys, cell phone or wallet, before he stops, grabs the back of his neck, and looks back down towards the ground like he’s trying to figure out what to do.

“Let me take you to the vet,” I blurt out, still on the ground, still with his dog’s head on my lap. “You can drive and I’ll hold your dog on my lap.”

Let me help you.

Normally I wouldn’t be comfortable letting a stranger drive my car but I’m absolutely positive he’d never get in the car if I was driving. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t blame him.

WHEN WE GET TO MY car, I stop abruptly, causing him to nearly bump into my back. Regardless of what he’s going through, he’s acting erratic and I don’t want him scaring Chloe.

“My five-year-old daughter is in the back seat,” I inform him. He audibly gasps and is once again pale and rooted to the ground. Why?

I don’t bother waiting for a reply. “She’s going to be worried about your dog but I’ll let her know what’s going on.” He looks down at his dog, sighs, and nods.

I open my door and slide into the passenger seat. After he places his dog on my lap, I hand him my keys and he silently walks around the car to the driver’s side.

Once he’s in the car, I turn to Chloe. “Mommy hit this doggy and he’s not feeling very well so we’re going to help this man take him to the hospital.”

“Is his doggy going to be okay, Mommy?” she asks, her little voice full of concern.

“Yes, baby girl. You don’t have to worry,” I tell her, not fully believing what I’m saying.

“Okay, Mommy,” she responds, and goes back to playing with her Frozen dolls.

As we’re driving, I glance over and really notice him for the first time. He truly is a stunning man, rugged yet soft at the same time. He has thick, dark hair that’s longer on the top and shorter on the sides and his face is covered with a stubble that’s more than a five o’clock shadow but less than a full beard. I’m not usually a fan of facial hair but on him it works. He has a strong jaw, full, lush lips, a strong nose with a slight bump on the bridge and a scar bisecting his right eyebrow. His face paints a picture and I find myself getting lost in it.

He notices me staring and when he glances my way, I gasp. His eyes are beautiful, a kaleidoscope of color and I’m in awe. They’re incredible. Wedgewood with brushstrokes of charcoal with flecks of navy mixed in. I could drown in your eyes.

He breaks the connection when he turns his eyes back to the road and it takes me a minute to come back to myself and find my breath because I swear I just saw his soul. His eyes are focused, his expression blank. His jaw’s clenched so tightly it’s twitching and his grip on the steering wheel is so strained, it looks like his knuckles are going to snap in half. The tension rolling off him is thick and heavy, making it impossible for me to breathe.

The drive to the VCA clinic in Redondo Beach is unnervingly silent. Even Chloe’s quiet, which is something that never happens. Halfway here, I realized not having his wallet meant not having his license. Between that and the choking silence permeating the car, I’m so incredibly relieved when we finally pull into the parking lot that I let out a long breath so audible he notices.

He gets out of the car and retrieves his dog while I head to the back seat to get Chloe.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Getting my daughter out of the car,” I answer.

“I can see that,” he says through his ever-present scowl. “My question is, why are you getting your daughter out of the car?”

“What?” I ask, thinking I must not have understood him correctly.

“I asked, why are you getting your daughter out of the car?” He repeats his question through clenched teeth, slowly emphasizing each word, like he thinks I need to get a fucking clue?

“I’m getting my daughter out of the car…” I repeat, also speaking slowly and emphasizing each word. Maybe he can get a fucking clue. “Because, we’re going in,” I tell him in a way that leaves no room for argument. “I hit your dog, I’m paying for it, and I need to know if he’s going to be okay.”

“Oh no you’re not!” He grinds this out through his still-clenched teeth.

God, he’s making this difficult.

“You don’t have your wallet,” I point out through my own clenched teeth, too angered by his actions to talk any other way.

Without another word, he turns and walks silently into the hospital. Shaking my head, I retrieve Chloe and her backpack. I don’t know how long we’ll be there and want her to be kept busy.

I enter the hospital just as he approaches the counter. I set Chloe down, pull out her toys, and once she’s settled, I approach the counter and grab the clipboard to fill out the paperwork. He’s in too much of a state to do it himself and I want to help any way I can.

I watch him while he stands unmoving in the room; his eyes glued to the door his dog just went through. “What’s your name?” I ask, looking at him from my seat, pen in hand.

My question gets his attention. He turns around and glares at me but doesn’t answer. “I’m not making idle conversation here.” I show him the clipboard.

He’s still staring at me like I just asked him to solve world hunger, but after a few minutes, he sighs and sits by me, leaving an open seat between us. He puts his elbows on his knees, clasps his hands behind his bowed head, and sighs.

I sigh too. “Look, I didn’t think you’d want to fill this out but if I’m wrong…”

He looks up at me as I start to hand him the clipboard but stops me with his hand, shakes his head, and finally answers my question. “Ean. Ean Montgomery.”

“Ian Montgomery,” I repeat and write down.

I point the pen in my hand towards myself and say, “Dani Adams.”

He nods but still doesn’t say a word so I keep going. “Your dog’s name?”

“Po.”

“Po?” I ask, thinking I heard him wrong. He just glares at me. Guess I didn’t.

“Po,” I repeat and write that down too. “Phone number?”

At his silence, I arch an eyebrow, once again, pushing the clipboard in his direction. If you want to do this, have at it.

I have to bite my lip to hide my smile when he reluctantly gives me his number. See, big guy? that wasn’t too hard now, was it?

I decide to fill the rest out on my own, using my personal information. It’s easier this way. If I receive anything from here, I’ll just call the hospital and tell them to call him.

When I’m finished, I go to the counter, hand over the paperwork, pay, and return to my seat. His eyes follow as I open a juice box for Chloe and hand her a snack.

“What are you doing?” he asks. His voice, once again is thick with irritation.

“I’m getting ready to have a party,” I answer sarcastically. What in the hell is his problem?

“Why are you still here?” he spits out, quickly pissing me off.

Seriously!

“I’m waiting to see how your dog is,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to keep my voice low.

I really don’t give two shits whether he wants me here or not. I need to make sure his dog is okay. If I don’t find out, it’ll bother me.

“Oh no you’re not!” he hisses. “You’re not waiting, I don’t want you here. You’ve already done enough for one day!”

I know when I’m not wanted. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” I gather up Chloe and her things and turn to leave. When I reach the door, I turn to him. He’s once again sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped behind his downturned head.

As if he senses me he looks up.

“I hope your dog is okay,” I say and leave, not waiting for a response.

“I HOPE YOUR DOG IS okay.” Her parting words.

I can’t believe what just happened and I’m embarrassed by how I acted but I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t stop it. It was like I was taken back to the day of the accident. Granted, I never saw Alyssa and Alex, which is still a mixed blessing of “thank God I didn’t see them because I would never unsee it” to “why couldn’t I have seen them one last time, just to say goodbye,” though that could have been far worse.

My eyes haven’t left the door. I can’t stop thinking about Dani Adams and how I treated her. She’s so beautiful, with thick, wavy dark brown hair that falls to the middle of her back and magical eyes. That’s the only way I can describe them. An ethereal mix of brown and green with flecks of gold mixed in. Long black lashes and high cheekbones that flushed red every time she became angry. She’s tall, probably about five foot eight, and curved in all the right places. She also seems kind and genuinely concerned about Po.

I close my eyes and can almost imagine what she must look like when she smiles because as beautiful as she is, she must be stunning with a smile. I find myself feeling sad because instead of making her smile, I made her frown.

The memory of Po’s accident keeps playing on a loop in my mind. I was heading back home after my run and he yanked the leash out of my hand when he bolted, chasing after something I couldn’t see.

SCREECH! BUMP! I can’t get that horrible sound out of my head.

When I ran to the noise and saw Po lying unconscious on the ground in front of an old SUV, I stopped breathing. His head was being cradled by a woman who was sobbing uncontrollably. She was torn apart actually. When she looked up at me, her eyes were haunted. It was like she was reliving something really horrific. I know that look. I live it every fucking minute of my life and I’m sure my face reflected that.

I couldn’t stop repeating the word “no.” because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I remember shouting that exact word, over and over again the day I found out that Alex and Alyssa had been killed and my addled mind takes me back to that horrible day.

“EAN! EAN, WAKE UP!”

I’m being shaken? Why? What’s happening?

“Ean, baby! Wake up!” I felt wetness on my face and heard my mom’s voice; she was sobbing.

Where am I? What’s going on? Why is my mom crying?

I slowly opened my heavy eyes and saw my mom hovering over me, tears surging out of her eyes, wetting both my face and shirt.

What’s wrong? Why is she crying so hard?

“Mom? What’s going on?” I looked around and then back at her.

I’m in my store but on the floor. How’d I get here?

“Oh, honey…” Her voice trailed off as she fell apart, her body collapsing on top of mine as she continued to cry, hard.

“He’s over there!” I heard my dad shouting, his voice frantic.

Dad? Something’s wrong. Really, really wrong.

“Ean!” he sobbed.

Another strangled cry. Riley? What’s my family doing here?

“What happened?” I asked, not recognizing my own voice.

I looked at my mom and sister for answers but they were both crying too hard to speak. “Dad?”

He crouched down onto the floor next to me and took my hand in a tight grip. His eyes were bloodshot, his face red. He looked…wrecked.

“Ean…”

He hesitated and looked down to the floor. When he looked back up at me, tears were also streaming, unbidden, down his distraught face. I could tell by his composure and the look in his eyes that something really horrendous happened and my world ended when I learned I was right.

“There’s been an accident. Alyssa and Alex are…dead.”

I shot up off the floor, furious he would ever say such a hideous thing. “BULLSHIT!” I shouted. “HOW DARE YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT!”

I lunged at my father and was just about to hit him when I was knocked over by my sister. I jumped back on my feet again and looked at them. They were all frozen. Rooted to the floor, paralyzed. Consumed by grief and inconsolable.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” I screamed, repeating the words over and over again.

They’re wrong! They have to be wrong!

I looked at them again and in that moment, I knew what they were saying was true. NOOOOO!

I turned and ran out the door. I had to get home.

They have to be there!

I kept running; knocking over anyone and everyone in my path. I dodged cars, sprinting the miles back to my house and barged through the door yelling their names.

“ALEX! ALYSSA!”

I ripped open my bedroom door. “ALYSSA!” I tore open Alex’s bedroom door. “ALEX!”

I ran around all over my small cottage crying their names. I yanked open the door to the backyard shouting for them. Empty. I opened the door leading to the garage. No car. I turned and raced back through the house to the front door. The Walk Street, Alex loves the Walk Streets! They have to be there. I grabbed the doorknob and bolted out of the house, slamming it in my wake. “ALYSSA! ALEX!” I ran from street to street knocking on the doors of everyone who knew them. I was frantic and desperate.

Everyone was out of their homes now watching me. I didn’t care. I needed to find them. I turned back in the other direction in a frantic attempt to find them but was stopped, tackled, knocked to the ground and held there. I looked up, my vision blurred by my tears and saw Justin and Chance holding me down.

“GET OFF OF ME!” I wailed. “LET ME GO!”

“NO!” Justin shouted, grabbing one arm and lifting me off the ground while Chance grabbed my other arm. “We’re taking you home!”

I tried to yank free but they held me tighter, not letting me go. I didn’t care if I had to lay my two best friends on the ground. “I NEED TO FIND ALYSSA AND ALEX!” I screamed, trying again to break free but couldn’t. “LET ME GO!” I wailed. “Please…” Justin hauled me into his arms and held me tightly. “Please,” I begged, my voice scratchy, broken with despair. Justin didn’t release me. He just held me tighter in his embrace. “Justin, please,” I begged again, my cries muffled by his shirt. “Please let me get to them. They need me. I need to find them.”

“Let’s get you home, buddy,” he said quietly, putting his arm around my waist as he led me back to my house. Chance came to my other side, also wrapping his arm around my waist and repeated Justin’s words. “Let’s just get you home.” Together, Justin and Chance held me upright and walked me home.

When I got to the house my body collapsed, I broke down, completely losing it.

They can’t be dead.

I had no idea how I got inside but I found myself sitting on the sofa in my living room. My mom was holding me and my doctor was sitting next to her.

“Dr. Kissel?”

What’s he doing here?

“Ean,” he said in a calm voice. “I just gave you a sedative to help you relax.”

What?

I looked around the room and saw the broken and tear-stained faces of my mom, dad, sister, and two best friends. “I don’t want to rest,” I told my doctor, my voice slurring. Weary from crying, weak from grief. “I need to find them.”

My doctor looked at me and then at my mom but said nothing.

“Alyssa, Alex…” I whispered.

My mom wrapped her arms around me and started crying again. And as I started to fade, I heard, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so very, very sorry.”

That was the moment I stopped living and today it all came rushing back to me…again. I close my eyes, still seeing Po in Dani’s arms.

He has to be okay.

THE WHOLE WAY HOME I’M wracked with guilt and worry. It upsets me I wasn’t able to wait to see how his dog was but I figure I can just call the hospital if it really bothers me.

Once we get to my house Beverly and Rodger come rushing outside to greet us, excitement pouring out of them. Chloe squeals from her car seat, also bouncing with excitement. “Grandma! Papa!”

I take her out and Rodger grabs her in a tight embrace, spinning her around with all the excitement of a kid on Christmas Day. She’s their life. My daughter giggles with delight and I know right there and then I made the right choice in coming back.

“Mommy hit a doggy and we had to go to the doggy hospital,” Chloe tattles while still in Rodger’s arms.

Both Beverly and Rodger stop and look at me with confused expressions.

“Long story,” I tell them, waving my hand around as if that explains everything. “A dog ran out in front of my car this morning and when I went to slam on the brakes, the car lunged forward.”

“You really need to replace your car, honey,” Rodger says, his voice filled with worry. “We can go together if you’d feel more comfortable. Beverly and I need to know that you and Chloe are safe.”

He’s right and when he puts it that way, I can’t refuse. They’ve been through so much, it’s the least I can do. “Now that I’m home, I’m definitely going to do it,” I tell him. “And I’d love to have you come with me. I could really use your help.”

He lights up. I knew that would make him smile. They both have felt so helpless since the accident and I know us being in San Diego had been hard on them. “It would be my honor,” he says, beaming with pride.

Rodger looks Chloe right in her eyes and says in a soft, sing-song voice, “I think I saw a present in someone’s bedroom.”

Chloe looks at her papa, then to her grandma, and then to me before turning back to her papa again. With wide eyes, she points at herself and asks, “Me?”

Rodger makes a grand gesture of looking at the area around us. When he turns his eyes back to her, he asks, “Hmmm, do you see any other princesses around here? Because the present is definitely for a princess.”

Chloe knows we all call her a princess. She giggles and says, “Papa, I’m a princess, silly!”

Rodger throws his head back and laughs. “I am silly,” he tells her. “Everybody knows you’re the one and only princess.” He then continues. “Well then, Princess Chloe, a royal present is waiting for you in your castle and I think we should go see what it is.”

Rodger and Chloe head into the house and Beverly hugs me. “We’re so happy to have the both of you home again. He’s been on cloud nine ever since you told us you were coming back.”

“We’re happy to be home too,” I tell her, still in her embrace.

Beverly and I walk arm-in-arm into the house. “Wine?” she asks. Normally I wouldn’t drink this early in the day and normally she wouldn’t ask, but after hearing Chloe’s admission, I know she thinks I could use a glass and she’s definitely right.

We fall into easy conversation as we take our wine out to the back porch and sit down at my little Target bistro table. I could really use some new outdoor furniture I think to myself and that makes me think about E and the furniture he made. I really wish I could see it.

“Dani?” Beverly asks over her wine glass.

Her voice startles me, pulling my head out of the clouds. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I don’t blame you after what happened today,” she says and before I can fall back into my head, she continues. “I was just saying I’ve noticed the house next door is occupied again.”

I look over and notice she’s right. It’s been vacant since my dear old neighbor Mrs. Hawthorne was moved into a retirement home by her family. Her daughter told me they were keeping the home to use as a rental, but it was still vacant when I moved to San Diego. We talk a little about Mrs. Hawthorne and who my new neighbors could possibly be. I’m really hoping it’s a family with kids for Chloe to play with.

She asks me about the dog and I go on to tell her all about it and the beautiful, strange, sad man. I tell her how disappointed I am that he had wanted me to leave and how worried I am about the both of them.

“You should have seen him, Bev. He was paralyzed by fear. All the color drained from his face and…” I shake my head to rid it of the vision of his beautiful, haunted eyes. “There was nothing there. I know that look. Something happened to him in his past. Something that was beyond tragic.” I could see my sorrow reflected back at me.

Of course, she understands. We’ve all lived it.

“I have a great idea!” Beverly declares. “I think we should get a new car for you right now!”

Surprised by the change of subject, and the enthusiasm in her voice, I ask, “What?”

“I know you, sweetheart, every time you look at that car you’re going to think about that poor man and his dog and you’re going to become sad.”

She’s right.

“I don’t know,” I hedge because that old Ford is another link to Scott I have to sever. “I haven’t really looked into anything yet.”

“Rodger has,” she tells me, her voice bright. “We knew you needed a new car; you’ve needed one for a very long time. We were both worried sick about the two of you driving in it and now with what happened with the dog…” She trails off seemingly lost in thought but quickly recovers. “You saw how happy Rodger was when you asked him. He’s already done research on the safest SUVs on the market and has priced them out. He’s even gone as far as to have visited several dealerships, but don’t tell him I told you.”

I laugh at her admission, because that’s so Rodger. Scott was just like that. Once he got something in his head, there was no stopping him. His philosophy was, “If you want something bad enough, pursue it aggressively until you wear it down and it gives in.”

“Okay,” I tell her. “Let’s do it.”

“THE PARTY CAN START NOW!” I hear my best friend, Josh, announce as he comes barreling in through the front door. “Where’s my princess?!”

Josh is an amazing man who I absolutely adore. I met him through Lysee and we clicked instantly. He’s sweet and silly, strong, loving, and kind. He’s also gorgeous with wavy dark hair and eyes that remind me of the Caribbean Sea; water so clear you can see both the sand and the rocks. His ever-present smile is the only thing that rivals his eyes. It’s wide and bright and bracketed by two dimples so deep you want to bury yourself in them.

Josh’s story blew me away when I first got to know him. He grew up in a rural town in Georgia and had a very hard childhood. Being gay and the son of a Baptist minister was not a good combination. He lived in the closet but was still attacked by a bunch of homophobes in his teens and left to die. When he was in the hospital, he turned to his father for help, revealing his true self, and was immediately disowned. With nothing and nobody to turn to, once he recovered, he hopped on a Greyhound and headed to Southern California where he knew he’d be accepted for who he chose to love.

He was knee-deep in a trash bin at an auto body shop in search of scrap metal to sell so he could eat, when he found himself face-to-face with the owner of the shop that’s now his. George Mitchell took him in, fed him, sheltered him, and taught him the trade. When George retired, he gave Josh the business since he had no family of his own and considered Josh his son. Josh proudly kept the original name, Mitchell’s Automotive, in honor of the man who saved his life.

Lysee also suffered greatly as a child and I really think that’s why they’re so close. I met Lysee when Scott and I were having lunch at The Spot and she was our server. We had an instant connection. Kindred spirits, soulmates, whatever you want to call it, we had it. And just like with Josh, I immediately knew she was my person.

Lysee is absolutely beautiful, with long, golden blond hair that cascades down her back, and a round face with full lips, shaped like a Cupid’s bow. And, just like Josh, it’s her eyes that make her. They’re such a light shade of blue they’re almost translucent.

While Lysee is beautiful on the outside, it’s what’s inside that makes her truly shine. She’s bold and brash, hysterical and unfiltered, sweet and caring. With her history, she should be guarded and on edge. She was the daughter of a captain in the army who, after her mom died, moved her from post to post, sexually abusing her until she had no choice but to run away. She has never and will never let her history dictate who she is and for that I truly respect her.

The world is a better place with them in it and I’m a better person for having them in my life. They survived the un-survivable and I know I can too.

With E, I can.

Chloe charges out of her bedroom at the sound of his voice. “Uncle Josh! Uncle Josh!” she squeals as she races towards him.

“There’s my baby girl!” he cheers as he squats down to her level, making an exaggerated “ooof” sound when she crashes into him, while telling her how big she got and how strong she is. “Guess what? Auntie Lysee and I have a special surprise for you—but you have to close your eyes.”

“What did you do?” I ask skeptically.

Josh is wearing his “I’m up to no good” smile. “Relax, gumbo!” he drawls.

“You’re using one of your special Southern food nicknames, Josh, and your accent is out in full force. That does not make me feel relaxed.”

I seriously need another glass of wine. Or maybe the whole bottle.

“No need to worry,” Lysee chimes in as she enters the house carrying a small white file folder box.

Yep! Definitely worried and definitely in need of more wine.

“A PRESENT!” Chloe squeals, her eyes wide and focused on the box. “Can I open it? PLEASE?!” Her arms are in front of her, palms facing each other as if she’s praying, while drawing out the word in her adorable little voice. She then looks around the room silently asking for permission, her little body trembling with anticipation. Everybody turns their attention to me and I have to wonder how I’ve suddenly become the voice of reason.

“Like I have a choice,” I say in a resigned voice, and gesture to the box now sitting on the floor in front of a very excited Chloe.

“YAY!” Chloe drops down to her knees, throws the lid off the box and stops breathing.

“Meow…”

“A KITTY!” Chloe screams flying up to a standing position and starts jumping up and down, barely able to contain herself.

A cat? They bought her a…cat?!

“It’s Olaf…” Chloe breathes, and immediately goes back to jumping up and down, her body vibrating with even more excitement, if that’s at all possible.

“Oh God!” I groan.

“That’s right, biscuit! Princess Elsa needs her Olaf,” Josh drawls, also beaming with excitement. He takes Olaf from the box and hands him to Chloe, who plops herself down on her little bottom to cuddle the kitten.

“Who do we have here?” Rodger asks with a shit-eating grin as he enters from the bedroom. They’ve been asking me if they could get Chloe a pet for a while now.

“Looks like Chloe just got a new kitten,” Beverly laughs in response.

“Really!” I groan once again.

“Darn tootin’, darlin’,” Josh drawls, laughing at my reaction.

“A KITTY! A KITTY!” Chloe cheers, jumping back up to show Rodger, her little finger pointing directly at the cat at her feet. “Look, Papa, look. A KITTY!”

“It is,” Rodger says, still wearing the shit-eating grin that hasn’t left his face. He knows I didn’t want a pet and he’s loving every second of this.

“Let’s take Olaf into your room so Mommy can talk to Uncle Josh and Auntie Lysee,” Beverly tells Chloe as she picks the little white kitten up off the floor.

When they’re out of earshot, I turn to Josh and Lysee. “Really?!” I groan, yet again, now sounding like a broken record.

Josh just shrugs and Lysee says, “We missed her.”

“Yeah, but a cat?!”

“Dani, Dani, Dani,” Josh says as he puts his arm around my shoulders, bringing me in close to his body.

“Joshie, Joshie, Joshie,” I say back to him. I know the kitten is now a permanent fixture so I just say, “Wine?” as I move out of his embrace and head to the kitchen.

They nod, follow me, and Josh hoists himself onto the breakfast bar, making himself right at home.

Scott redid our kitchen right before the accident. He painted the walls a light green and installed white cabinets with silver pulls, a black granite countertop, a subway-tiled backsplash, and high-end appliances. Scott went all out because he knew I love to cook. I love my kitchen and I’m with him every time I’m in here.

I hand them each a glass of wine and we clink glasses.

“To Olaf!” Lysee cheers.

“To Olaf!” we repeat.

“Welcome home,” Lysee says as she hugs me. Josh winks and I pat his leg.

“I’ve missed you two,” I tell them. The three of us catch up. I really have missed them and it feels good being back.

“So, Monday you’re coming to meet Tonya?” Tonya is the owner of The Spot, the restaurant where Lysee works.

Sandi’s disapproving face and condescending words flash in my mind. Am I making a mistake?

Lysee senses my apprehension and goes for the jugular. “You know you need to find something. So unless you’re planning on getting back into design…” She trails off.

Gah! She knows I’m not about to go back into design and that I really don’t have any other choice. “What time?” I concede.

“Yes!” Lysee cheers.

“Did you really think you were going to win that one?” Josh chuckles.

“Nope,” I reluctantly reply, letting the sound of the “P” resonate in the otherwise quiet room.

“Ten thirty,” Lysee says smiling. “The breakfast rush will be done by then and Tonya can meet with you.”

After Chloe is asleep, Rodger and Beverly join us and we head into the living room where I tell Josh and Lysee about my new car and Lysee tells Rodger and Beverly about my new job. After I show my friends my new Subaru Crosstrek, which I absolutely love, we spend the rest of the evening enjoying each other’s company.

And for the second time today, I realize how happy I am to be home.

“PO! WHERE ARE YOU, BOY?” I holler.

Ugh, not again! I decided to take Po down to the ocean today to play ball. He seems like he’s feeling better lately and he’s been restless. He was knocked unconscious but thankfully he wasn’t seriously hurt. Though him getting hit broke me. I don’t know what I would have done if he had died. I don’t want to even think about it. My parents picked us up from the vet and took us home. When we got there we noticed someone had moved in next door. I really hope it’s not occupied by a family with kids. I don’t want to be reminded of what I don’t have anymore.

We’ve been here about an hour when Po suddenly spots something off in the distance and bolts away. Well, at least this time he can’t get hit by a car, I sarcastically muse since we’re so far away from the road. That was fun. I wonder what got his attention this time, a girl perhaps? I smile at that thought and head down the beach in search of him.

I stop short when I see who he’s with. “No way…” I utter in disbelief.

I shake my head and chuckle. “Po, you dog.” Pun intended. “You go, boy!” What are the odds?

Not twenty feet ahead of me is Dani, crouched down by the water’s edge, and Po is licking the hell out of her face. I can’t believe I’m seeing her again and WOW! She really is beautiful! She’s wearing a pale green and white striped sundress that’s flowing around her in the breeze. Her dark hair is shining streaks of auburn in the sun, her cheeks are flushed and her smile is so bright I can see it from here.

“Po!” I shout as I jog up to them. Dani stiffens at the sound of my voice and I’m saddened by the look of surprise and worry that clouds her beautiful face. I put that there and I vow, right then and there, I’m going to do everything under my power to not only take it away, but to make sure it never comes back. Po hasn’t stopped licking her and his tail is going a million miles an hour.

I’ve been thinking about her, a lot. I had wanted to apologize for how I acted and to thank her for all she did, but I was positive I’d never see her again. I’m glad I’ll now get that chance.

When Dani sees I’m smiling she visibly relaxes and returns my smile. Did I say WOW! That word doesn’t even come close to how her smile looks up close. The smile that just lit up her face surpasses the brilliance of the California sun. I knew she’d be stunning when she smiled; I just underestimated exactly how exquisitely beautiful she’d actually be.

“You were expecting angry Ean, weren’t you?” I say as I approach her.

She blushes and lowers her gaze. “Well, yes, now that you mention it, I was expecting angry Ian,” she admits.

I crouch down next to her and drape my arms over my knees, letting my hands fall between them. I stretch one arm out and put my hand on her chin to tilt her face up so our eyes can meet. I can’t help but smile when I do what I should have done two weeks ago. “I’m sorry for the way I acted, Dani. I was horrible and you were so helpful. I have no excuse except to say that it brought up some pretty awful memories, but you didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of that.”

She looks shocked by my sudden change in demeanor and a bit apprehensive. Her brow is furrowed and I want to take that away too. Her smile is so beautiful, it’s the only thing I want to see on her gorgeous face. So I take it away. I raise my hand from her chin and smooth out her brow with the tip of my thumb.

Acting on her silence, I add, “I also want to say thank you for everything you did. For holding him, for letting me drive, for helping, for paying, and for being there.”

Her smile comes back in full force and I feel like I could fly. No wonder Po is so infatuated with her. Not waiting for a response, I extend my right hand to hers and introduce myself.

“Hi, my name is Ean. Ean Montgomery.”

She throws her head back and laughs. She has such a beautiful, throaty laugh and that just makes me smile, inside and out. I’m sure she’s laughing at the absurdity of this whole situation but I don’t care. I just like hearing her laugh.

She meets my hand and shakes it. “Dani. Dani Adams, it’s very nice to meet you, Ian Montgomery.”

I sit on the sand next to her with my legs crossed underneath me. “He really likes you.” I nod at Po, who’s now lying with his head in her lap. His eyes are fixed on her, his tongue is lolling out, and he’s wearing a look of pure contentment on his smiling face as she pets him.

“That he does,” she laughs. She then shifts her position to get more comfortable and with a serious expression, she says, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see him well. I was really worried.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry,” I sigh. “I should never have told you to leave.”

“I completely understand,” she replies. “No need to apologize, I should never have hit him.”

I laugh, hard. The type of laugh that cleanses your soul. “No, you shouldn’t have. But he’s okay now, so all is good.”

We remain seated by the ocean chatting and enjoying each other’s company. She’s really easy to talk to and I feel like I’ve known her for a really long time. It’s always strange how you can meet some people and feel like you’ve known them forever. We discuss our mutual love of both the beach and the area. I learn that she works at one of my favorite local restaurants, The Spot, which is just down the street from my house. After a while, I move to get up and say, “I should get Po back home now. I just wanted to take him out for a little sun but I don’t want to overdo it.”

I help her to her feet. We say our goodbyes and I turn and head away from the shore, but I only make it a few feet before Po turns and jogs back to her. It’s then that I notice she’s right behind us, walking in our direction. She must notice my confused expression because she stops and says, “I’ve decided to head home too.”

“Walk with us,” I suggest. “Po wouldn’t have it any other way. If you don’t, he’ll just keep going back to you. I think he may have a crush on you.”

Dani laughs and jogs to catch up with me. I clip Po to his leash and together we head away from the beach. When we near The Spot, I realize I’m not ready to let her go yet. I’m enjoying her company and have nothing to go home to, so I take a chance and ask, “Are you hungry? I’m starving and I’d love to take you to lunch and repay you for your kindness.” I hit my pockets with an exaggerated pat and say, “I do have my phone, keys, and wallet this time. I never leave home without them anymore.”

She throws her head back and laughs. God, I love her laugh.

“Touché,” she says through another laugh. “I’d love to.”

“Why don’t you head in and get us a table,” I suggest. “I live nearby so I’m just going to run him home. I’ll be right back.”

I make it back to The Spot in record time. It’s funny how quickly a person can move when motivated, and I’m definitely motivated. As I enter the small restaurant, I see her right away laughing with a waitress at a table near the window. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing her laugh. I hope we can become friends.

As I approach their table, they both look up and smile. “Hello, ladies,” I say once I’m in front of them. I extend my hand to her friend and with a wide smile, my dimples on full display, I introduce myself.

Their smiles grow even wider and I get the distinct impression they’ve been talking about me. “Lysee,” she says, returning my greeting. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

I take the seat next to Dani and we place our orders. It turns out, we both love their veggie burgers with their savory sauce. Everything they serve here is really good but that dish has always been my favorite and I’m thrilled to see it’s hers too. We also get a couple of organic beers and a plate of carrots and tahini to enjoy while we’re waiting.

We talk about anything and everything. Nothing too personal. I’m not ready to go there. I’m lonely and Dani is great. We haven’t stopped laughing. It’s such a departure from how I’ve lived the last six months. I’m glad fate has brought us together for a second time.

After lunch, she hugs Lysee goodbye and then her friend surprises me with a hug. “It was really great meeting you, Ian. Take care of my girl here.” I let her know that I always will and we head out.

“I live up there, on Monterey Avenue.” I gesture with my thumb towards the houses up the road.

Her eyes light up and she exclaims, “Me too!”

“No way!” I say, shock evident in my voice. Doesn’t that just figure? And how haven’t I noticed her before?

“Way!” She laughs at my reaction. Her laugh is free and unabashed. It’s music to my battered soul.

We head up the hill and discover that not only do we live on the same street but we’re also next-door neighbors.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe we’re neighbors,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Life is too weird.”

“It figures, doesn’t it?” she responds, also laughing in disbelief. “Though I guess with our history, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Did you just move in? I’ve been here a while and that house has been vacant the whole time.”

“I own it, actually. I’ve been out of town and didn’t want to rent it out. Just came back about…” she holds out her wrist, squinting at an invisible watch, taps it and with a bright smile, she says, “…two weeks ago.”

This time I throw my head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh. “I don’t know if I should say that I’m upset you moved back or glad that you did.”

“Well,” she says, gesturing to her house with the sweep of her arm. “I’m clean and I’m quiet and I like you. It would be nice to have you as a friend. So let’s go with the latter.”

“Let’s go with the latter,” I repeat, reaching for her hand to shake it. “Thanks for joining me for lunch, neighbor Dani.”

“My pleasure, neighbor Ian,” she says, bypassing my hand and going in for a hug.

“We’re friends, and friends hug,” she tells me, her arms around me now. And damn if it doesn’t feel good.

“That they do, neighbor Dani,” I say as I hug her back. “That they do.”

With that I enter my house with a potential new friend, a new contact in my phone, and a huge smile on my face.

DANI AND I DO INDEED become friends. It’s been wonderful getting to know her. She really is a special person and it shows in everything she does. She’s hugely sarcastic, insanely funny, and incredibly smart. I remember her wit the day she hit Po. I was too out of it to really appreciate it then, but I do now. I’ve also been helping out around her house when Chloe’s been with her grandparents. She was so happy when I offered but I’m more than happy to help. It gives me something to do and it feels really fucking good to feel needed again.

Although we’ve become close in many ways, we haven’t taken our relationship to a sexual level. I’m not ready for that and I’m not sure I’ll ever be. Aside from my wife, Dee’s the only person I’ve ever been sexual with and that was through texts. I’m still so happy I went there. It strengthened our bond and took our relationship to a new level. Dee told me how she never would’ve opened up and said some of the things she said if I had actually been there with her. Even though I would love to physically meet her, I’m glad our first time was virtual because she was so unguarded. We’ve also sexted again and each time it just keeps getting better.

Dani invited me over for dinner to thank me for all the work I’ve done and while I accepted with a smile, I was nervous about actually going. I haven’t seen Chloe since the accident and I think I really scared her that day. I’m also nervous about spending time with her because I haven’t spent any time around kids since I lost Alex. I really like Dani, and Chloe is the biggest part of who she is, so I need to do this right.

I shaved and I’m wearing one of my nicer shirts. I smile at the thought I’m dressing this way to impress Dani; she’s beautiful and I’m no idiot. I’m also determined to be on my best behavior, so after several minutes of deep breathing to steady my frazzled nerves, I call Po to the door. “It’s now or never, boy,” I say as I clip on his leash, take another calming breath, and head out.

“Wow!” Dani exclaims when she answers her door. “Who are you and what have you done with Ian?” Her compliment makes me exceedingly happy and when she follows with, “Mighty handsome, Mr. Montgomery!” I smile.

I know I look different without my usual five o’clock shadow and my usual uniform: a t-shirt and basketball shorts. I’m happy I’ve made a good impression. I start to thank her but my words are quickly cut off when Chloe comes barreling up to the front door. “Mommy! Is that Mr. Ian and Po?”

“Woof!” Po barks on hearing his name.

“Yes, it is, sweetheart,” Dani tells her while still looking at me as she opens the door wider to let us in. She winks and then adds, “And he’s looking incredibly handsome this evening.”

I give Dani a wide smile and turn my attention to her daughter. “Aaah, Princess Chloe!” I say with an exaggerated bow and tell her, in an incredibly terrible British accent, how happy I am to be invited into her castle. Dani’s told me how everybody calls her a princess and since I made such a bad first impression I’m pulling out all the stops to rectify that.

Chloe giggles but immediately spins on her heel and tears out of the room. Maybe I was wrong.

Dani and I both stare stupidly at the empty hall Chloe just ran down. When she turns back to me, I frown and ask, “Did I say something wrong?” Dani shrugs, and begins to answer my question, but is stopped before she gets the chance. Chloe returns as quickly as she left. When she comes racing back, she’s decked out in full Frozen regalia, crown and all. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop the laugh threatening to burst from my mouth. That was fast.

“I’m ready, King Ian!” she announces and I smile at the title. She’s so adorable. Maybe this night will work out after all. Going with what works, I bow and announce once again in my horrendous British accent, “My dog, Po, for thee, Princess Chloe.”

Po barks and Chloe turns to look at him. She puts her little hands on her little hips and speaks to him in a very serious tone. “Now, Po, Olaf is in my room and he is a very nice kitty so I expect you to play nice with him.”

“Woof!” Po barks again. I’m so grateful he’s trained to bark when he hears his name because it makes Chloe light up in a way that lets me know she thinks he understands what she’s saying.

“Olaf?” I ask, curiosity written all over my face. She has a cat?

“Long story,” she says to me, waving her arm in a way that almost looks like she’s saying, “You really don’t want to know.”

I release Po and he goes running to her. Chloe giggles and runs off to her room with Po right on her heels barking happily all the way. Oh boy, I think Po is in for it.

“I think Po is in for it!” Dani says, giggling.

“My thoughts exactly,” I reply, laughing too.

It’s astonishing how alike we think.

“You want a beer?” she asks as we head towards her kitchen.

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” I answer. “I have a feeling I, too, shall be summoned.”

Dani turns her head and over her shoulder she laughs and says, “Well, you did start it!”

This isn’t my first time inside of Dani’s house and each time I’m here, I’m surprised by the lack of photographs and other personal details; it seems so unlike her. I want to ask her about it but I won’t. I often see her fall into her head and whenever she’s there, she usually looks incredibly sad. My instincts say something very tragic happened to her but I refuse to ask. I staunchly guard my privacy and I worry if I do ask, she’ll ask me personal questions that I obstinately refuse to answer. I don’t need, nor want her pity.

Although there are times where she’s in her head and looks incredibly happy which just confuses the fuck out of me.

Her kitchen makes up for what her house lacks. It’s gorgeous, a chef’s wet dream, and loaded with personal touches. I can’t help but be incredibly impressed every time I’m in here. Not for the first time I think how much Dee would love this kitchen; she loves to cook. And not for the first time, I chastise myself for thinking of Dee in Dani’s presence.

“I did indeed,” I reply, keeping myself in the here and now.

“I ordered pizza. Chloe likes cheese so I kept it simple and just got a half-cheese, half-pepperoni,” Dani tells me as she circles around her breakfast bar, heading to the refrigerator. I take a seat on the other side and let her know what she ordered is perfect.

She then grabs two bottles of Blue Moon and hands one to me. Dani always does the most kindhearted things, like having my favorite beer on hand. Her amazing soul always makes my heart soar. When she gets back to where I’m seated, she tilts her bottle to mine and we clink in a toast.

“To friends,” she says.

“To friends,” I parrot, knowing what a wonderful friend she’s becoming.

“So, Ian, what happened to the scruff?” she asks as she runs a finger over my shaved jawline. I know she likes my five o’clock shadow, she’s told me, but I wanted to make a good impression on Chloe.

“Well, I’d like to say I shaved it so you could see more of this incredibly handsome face,” I answer with a cocky smile. “But honestly, it’s because I think I may have scared Chloe when we first met and I want her to feel safe around me.”

“Thank you, Ian,” she replies. “Seeing you and Po here makes me happy.” Her eyes shine with a look of sincere appreciation and when she adds, “I’m glad you agreed to come to dinner,” I’m instantly glad I took the extra step.

“Though, to be perfectly honest…” Dani’s eyes light up and with a coy look on her beautiful face, she reiterates how much she loves my “scruff.”

“I know,” I say with a wink. I like that she thinks I’m good-looking.

Once again, our conversation is brought to an immediate halt when Chloe comes racing into the room, with a now dressed-up Po, and I just smile.

Let the games begin!

When the pizza arrives, we move outside. It’s yet another beautiful night in Hermosa Beach and the weather is perfect with no hint of the coastal fog that usually blankets the area. I persuade Chloe to try a piece of pepperoni and laugh when she scrunches her little nose, makes a “bleh” sound, and feeds it to a very happy Po.

After dinner, Chloe hosts a tea party and we all sit at a little plastic tea party table that Dani probably bought at Toys “R” Us. She’s quite the little hostess. We all end up with crowns on our heads. I’m trying to be a good sport; I want her to feel comfortable with me. It’s really important to me that she likes me. I can’t explain why, it just is.

After a while, we leave Chloe with Po and head back up to the patio for another beer while Chloe puts her dolls in our places. Looking around at Dani’s inexpensive and old furniture, I can’t help thinking, as I always do, how the pieces I made for Dee would look here, especially the set I made for her daughter. When I was making the furniture for Dee, I decided to make a small table and chairs for her little girl. I’m still not sure why I made it. She never asked and she’ll never see it, but something in my gut had me making miniature furniture.

I’d love nothing more than to say, “I make outdoor furniture and I have the perfect set in my garage which I’d love to give you,” but I can’t and I won’t. Like I said, I’m not ready to share that part of myself with her…yet.

Dani brings the fixings for do-it-yourself sundaes outside and by the time we’re finished, there’s more sundae on the table, ground, and all over Po than in the actual bowls.

It’s been an amazing night. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. And as I head home, I realize how much I like having Dani in my life.

“MOMMY, CAN WE HAVE MR. Ian and Po over again?”

“I’ll ask him next time I see him. But right now, I need you to go to sleep.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Having Ian over was wonderful. He really is a special man. I cheer every time I make him smile because behind his beautiful eyes lies a deep sorrow. I want to ask but I won’t go there. I understand wanting to be private with sorrow. It’s been ten months, ten brutally painful months. I still miss Scott with every fiber of my being. I don’t think that’ll ever change. I’m also not ready to hang pictures of him back on the walls, or put them back on the shelves. I took them all down because I broke down every time I looked at them. It wasn’t healthy for Chloe and it definitely wasn’t healthy for me. One day, maybe, but not yet…

Once I leave Chloe’s room, I do the one thing I’ve wanted to do all night.

E? Are you around?

He sent me a text while I was getting ready to have Ian over. I usually get back to him right away but I was nervous and E would have picked up on that. He’s so in tune with every word I write and has called me out on things in the past. It’s surprising how many subtleties can be seen through a simple text message. I’ve heard you can’t express emotion through text but when it’s your only form of communication, the usual rules don’t apply.

I want to be in the same place as you.

When I reply with a bunch of question marks, he repeats his text spacing the words out as if he’s punctuating each one. I laugh at how he thinks slowing his words down will make me better understand his odd request and come back at him with a sassy reply.

Okay, smartass! I can read, hence the successful sexting.

Damn straight!

I still can’t believe he went there, but I’m glad he did. Aside from the obvious reasons, it’s brought us even closer. E and I have exchanged several texts in regard to that night and when I told him about my reticence, he became way too smug and way too happy. See, Dee, there really is a silver lining around the fact that we can only text. He also told me how much he loved doing it and we’ve done it several times since. There’s no way I’d go there in real life, but I trust E and there’s incredible safety in communicating through texts.

Exactly! Now that we’ve established that I can, in fact, read we are in the same place…remember? I moved back.

Now who’s being a smart ass.

Normally I’d take his banter and run with it but something inside is telling me there’s more to what he’s asking.

Aaand…

Dee…I know we can’t ever “meet.” And I know the reason for that goes beyond the stupid rules that were thrust upon us. I know how much we love each other, and what we share is so extremely powerful that neither of us are ever willing to jeopardize it. I’m okay with that, but—

To be honest, I hate our stupid rule. I really want to see him, see what his smile looks like. Do his eyes twinkle when he smiles? What does his laugh sound like? But if things don’t work out and if I lose him… NO! Screw that. I won’t allow this to end and if never meeting him is what it’s going to take then I’m okay with spending the rest of my life just texting. It’s for that reason the word “but” is completely freaking me out. And it’s also the reason I didn’t let him finish what he was going to say.

What are you saying? Oh God, E, I can’t meet you! This can’t end, EVER! I can’t lose us!

Dee…breathe! We are never going to lose us, I promise. Look, Fiesta Hermosa is coming up this weekend and there will be a lot of people there. I have no idea what you look like, so I wouldn’t even know where to start looking, and the same goes for you. All I’m asking is that we agree to be in the same area at a designated time. I just want to be near you, near your physical presence. I just want to breathe the same air you’re breathing.

Okay. When you put it that way…

Okay?

Okay!

: )

My entire body is buzzing with an excitement I didn’t know existed. Forget my fear, I’m doing this.

I’ll be there. I’d like that too. I think just knowing you’re in the same place would feel really wonderful. You’ve always made me feel so safe. So, yes, I’m incredibly scared to lose you but stronger than that is the need to be near you and to actually be able to breathe the same air as you would be wonderful.

You know I love you, right?

I know.

I’m going to be there with bells on. Oh, and I’m going to wear a sombrero too.

Oh my God, he cracks me up! I can just imagine my strong man wearing a sombrero and bells.

HAH! Don’t push it. The bells are okay, I may not catch that one but with a promise like that, I’d most certainly be searching for a very handsome man wearing a sombrero.

Handsome, huh?

I know he is. He’s so beautiful on the inside that I’m sure the outside is too. But he could be missing teeth and covered in warts and I’d still find him beautiful. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. It’s his heart, his humor, his strength, and his wisdom that I fell in love with.

Yep.

Saturday between noon and two o’clock, make sure you’re north of the pier and it doesn’t matter which aisle you’re in. I’ll be in that general area too, so we can be near each other.

It’s a date. I’ll be there with bells on too.

Babe, I’d recognize a hot chick with bells on.

Hot chick?

Really?

Okay, no bells.

I’m actually really excited about this but as I begin to type just that, another text comes through.

I have a great idea. Make sure you check out the people around you, the ones that stand out.

What do you mean?

We are going to be in the same place, right?

Yes, I think we’ve already established that.

Okay, you’re getting off topic. Focus, Dee.

(Eye roll) Your point?

(Well-deserved eye roll back at you) My point is that if we both see the same people then we’ll know for sure that we were, in fact, in the same place around the same time.

Ohhhh… Good idea!

I love his idea. This is going to be great!

I know, I’m kind of brilliant that way.

You know, E, I think you need to consult a doctor right now because your ego has been swollen for WAY more than four hours.

Hah! Now that you got your laugh for the day, will you do it?

I did get my laugh for the day. Thanks for that. And yes, I’ll do it.

Can’t wait!

I really can’t either.

Me too!

Sweet dreams, Dee.

You too, baby. Sleep well.

Knowing I’m actually going to be in the same place as E is scary and exhilarating. Since I know I’m not going to fall asleep anytime soon, I call Lysee. I need a distraction or I’ll work myself into a frenzy. She and Josh have been pestering me to go out with them ever since I got back but I’ve been putting them off. Not because I don’t want to go out with them, I do. I love them and their company and we really do always have fun together. But if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve kind of settled into this “holding pattern” for lack of a better term. It’s comfortable, and these days, that’s what I do best. But now things are different so with thoughts of E in mind I pull up her number and hit send.

“Hey, chickie-poo! To what do I deserve the honor of being blessed with a call from you?”

“Keep that up, wise-ass, and I’ll call Josh.”

“No need. You know I always love hearing from you.”

It always makes me laugh at how playfully competitive they are with one another. I go on to tell her about what I want to do and she gets so excited she squeals loud enough to make my ears ring. When she pushes me to know why I suddenly changed my mind, I lie and tell her that it’s because I miss going out with them. I could tell she really didn’t believe my lie, but thankfully, she didn’t push.

Nobody knows E exists. I won’t share him with anyone. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed; it’s the exact opposite. He’s mine and what we share is ours. We’ve talked about this and are in complete agreement. We still text multiple times a day. We’ve never stopped, if anything, they’ve only increased. Still not discussing anything personal, we spend our time talking about things we’re experiencing throughout the day, giving each other advice or just sending silly quotes or GIFs to make each other laugh. I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life.

After my Friday lunch shift ends, I head straight to Lysee’s place which is the mother-in-law unit above the garage of Tonya’s home. I love Lysee’s place. It’s quirky and sophisticated, just like her. She’s perfected the art of finding unique pieces at estate sales and flea markets, and her home reflects that.

“Hi, honey, I’m home!” I call out in a sing-song voice as I enter. I’m immediately greeted by a very happy Lysee who’s wearing a huge victory smile as she hands me an enormous glass of wine.

I had expected to have been greeted with a huge “Josh hug,” which I absolutely adore. It’s one of those hugs where you’re engulfed by the person’s spirit and love. But she lets me know one of his customers needed his car repaired sooner than expected. Apparently, this person is one of Josh’s biggest customers and his business is very important to him, so I completely understand.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I announce after my second glass of wine and get up to head to her bathroom to get ready. My best friend and I wear the same size clothes and since I like her wardrobe so much better than my own, I’ve never bothered to bring any of my own things when I get ready at her place.

Once I’m there, I smile. Lysee’s bathroom is my favorite room in her house, it’s like stepping back in time. The walls are painted in a pale gray, almost silver. She has a small chandelier with baby pink crystals hanging where a recessed light would normally be, a pull chain toilet, and a white shower curtain that says, “Wake up. BE AWESOME. Sleep. Repeat,” in silver and black, which surrounds the claw foot tub she converted to a shower/tub.

I’m just putting shampoo in my hair when Josh saunters into the bathroom stating loudly he is coming in as he’s coming in.

“THE PARTY CAN START NOW!” Josh drawls out with his usual greeting as he hoists himself onto the vanity.

I love when Josh’s “Southern” comes out. His drawl is always more pronounced when he’s drunk, tired, excited, or in Josh’s case, all three at once. The things that come out of his mouth are hugely quirky and always crack me up.

“JOSH!” I scream, poking my head out from behind the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here?!”

“Watching you shower,” he deadpans as he moves all of Lysee’s knickknacks out of the way to make room for both him and his very full glass of wine.

“You wish,” I say through burning eyes. “And now I’m getting shampoo in my eyes, thank you very much!”

“Anytime, darlin’,” he drawls. “And you’re on the wrong team, remember? Now if you were Matt Bomer…”

“What’s up, Josh?” I ask, stopping him before he can get on the Matt Bomer bandwagon. For the millionth time.

“I WANNA GO OUT!” Josh playfully whines.

“WHYYYY!” I playfully whine back. He loves to pout and I love humoring him.

“Well, let’s see…” I peek out to watch Josh ticking an imaginary list with his fingers.

“I’m horny, and it’ll be fun, and I’m horny and—”

I cut him off with, “You already said horny.”

“Well, that’s because I am horny,” he says but suddenly becomes serious. “And fun, Dani. I want to have fun. We used to always do fun. Besides, what else could you be doing this weekend, that’s fun?” I hear his silent challenge in the way he stresses the last two words. He knows I don’t do “fun.” Not anymore.

Well, I think to myself, I could be texting E. I could be getting ready for the fair with E tomorrow…

At my silence, Josh continues. “We could go to Ragin Cajun, El Pollo Inka, or Mama—”

“Stop!” I say, cutting him off, once again. “Now you’re just making me hungry. You know those are my favorite restaurants.”

“We know,” Lysee says laughing as she joins us in the bathroom. Whoever said “three’s a crowd” has never met Josh and Lysee.

Lysee’s fully dressed for the evening and looks amazing. She’s wearing black skinny low-rise jeans tucked into knee-high, stiletto-heeled boots that show off her mile-long legs and curvy hips. Her long-sleeved, pale blue, V-neck top is just sheer enough to show a hint of the gorgeous La Perla bra she’s wearing. She always wears clothes with a subtle sex appeal—just a hint of “things to come.” Her hair is down and slightly curled at the ends, and her makeup is soft except for her smoky eyes.

“Are we having a party now?” I laugh peeking out again.

“Darn tootin’,” Josh replies.

I coat my skin with a light layer of the Gucci Flora body lotion I always keep here, slip on one of Lysee’s super-plush robes, and get out of the shower, stopping the argument they’re having about which restaurant I’m going to choose by yelling, “Ragin Cajun,” as I exit the bathroom.

“Booya!” Josh whoops. I catch a glimpse of him throwing his hands in the air before hearing him say, “Five bucks, hush puppy!”

I turn around in shock. “Seriously? You’re taking bets?” Josh just smiles and winks.

“And what did you pick?” I ask Lysee.

“Pollo Inka,” she answers. “You love the saltado de pollo with green rice. And I know you never turn down their yummy rolls. You always order extra.” Mmmm, I do love those rolls. I’d switch but Ragin Cajun sounds really good.

“I do,” I reply from the bedroom. “But I’m in a po’boy kind of mood.”

“The only po’boy, is the one Josh’s going to be picking up tonight!” Lysee quips, before cracking up at her own joke.

I’m laughing too as I move toward her closet in search of something to wear.

“HEY!” Josh says throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation as he cuts me off to choose for me. “A: Any ‘boy’ that I find will be the opposite of ‘po’ and B: Let’s find something sexy, missy. Tonight, we’re showin’ off them girls.”

He then continues. “And that, po’boy part…” It’s funny how much that bothered him. “That’s going to be happening at Hennessey’s!”

“I’m getting an Uber,” Lysee announces as she pulls out her phone. “So hurry and get ready. Times-a-wasting.”

Josh chooses a black mini skirt, a gorgeous pair of tall, black Frye boots, and an amazing light green crepe top that indeed does “show off my girls.” He really does have amazing taste. I spray on some of my Gucci Flora perfume and look in the mirror. My long hair is lying in loose waves, and my makeup is light yet still enhances my eyes. I smile. I think I’m finally learning how to be happy again.

Ragin Cajun is a great restaurant. It has all the fun of Louisiana without the humidity, thank God. Scott and I went there once for a convention when we first started our business and let me tell you, New Orleans and summer do not go well together.

The artist in me also loves the décor. The restaurant is decorated to resemble the inside of an old shack with lanterns, washboards, fiddles, and pots and pans adorning the walls along with several pictures and posters of the French Quarter and Mardi Gras. It’s busy, fun, and always full of life. The butcher block style tables have buckets for the silverware and a bin with all their condiments. They make their own sauces, and their specialty drinks are out of this world. It’s so much fun to work our way through the list while we munch on alligator bites as we wait for our dinner.

Afterwards we Uber to Hennessey’s, which is located near the mouth of the Hermosa Pier. It’s packed. It always draws a big crowd, but with Fiesta Hermosa coming tomorrow, it’s busier than usual. We spot a table that just opened and as we head toward it, I hear my name being shouted from a few tables away. I turn my head in the direction of the sound and my heart lights up.

Ian.

He’s sitting with two amazingly gorgeous men. I’m probably partial, but to me, he’s the best-looking one of them all. He’s beaming his beautiful, dimpled smile and waving to get my attention. I head in his direction, Josh and Lysee all but forgotten.

“Ian!” I call to him with a smile as wide as his.

I reach his table and lean in to give him a quick kiss and a hug that he wholeheartedly returns.

“Join us!” he says as he stands, offering me his chair. I turn toward my friends and judging by their smiles, I know they’re more than happy to join Ian and his friends.

“We’d love to!” I say, speaking for the three of us.

After the introductions are made, we learn the men at the table are his two best friends, Justin and Chance. Justin reminds me of a Navy SEAL, with a strong, angular face and a body to match. He has dark brown hair that grazes his collar and soulful charcoal eyes.

Chance, on the other hand, is the light to their dark. He has light strawberry-blond hair, cut shorter than the others and his face is clean-shaven, probably to show off the amazing cleft on his chin. He has a strong nose with faint freckles dotting it and the emerald of his eyes pales the brightness of the brightest shamrock in Ireland.

Like Ian, both Chance and Justin are sweet and funny. Lysee spends the night shamelessly flirting with Justin, who we learn is a lawyer, and I happily notice he also seems into her. Chance works in advertising, and once Josh discovers he’s into classic cars, they become fast friends.

At the end of the night, Josh leaves with Chance. They’re in such an intense debate about muscle cars they barely manage a goodbye. Lysee goes home with Justin and I end up walking home with Ian. I really enjoy his company but I’m antsy to get home and text E about our virtual date at the fair tomorrow—something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

“So, Justin and Lysee seem to have hit it off,” I say, curious as to how he feels about them as a couple.

“You’re not kidding.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I could have lit up my entire house with the sparks flying between those two.”

I laugh at the truth to his statement. Their chemistry was off the charts. “I think we could’ve lit up both our homes.”

“He’s been single for a while. This could be good for him. She seems…nice?” I don’t blame him for phrasing it as a question. Lysee is definitely a handful.

“HAH!” I laugh. “You have no idea!”

We walk a bit in companionable silence before he smiles and gestures to all the tents that are already set up and waiting to be filled with great wares. “It looks like everything’s ready for the fair tomorrow.”

I can’t help but smile. This area is always so pretty and so full of life, but tonight it has an air about it. An excitement of the weekend to come. Fiesta Hermosa has been going on since 1972. It’s one of the biggest arts and crafts fairs in Southern California and brings thousands of people down to our little coastal town over the three days it runs. It’s extremely well known for the music, with two stages set up for bands to play. The music brings an energy that’s only enhanced by the great food and fabulous items sold.

“I love this fair,” I say when we resume walking. “Are you going?”

“I am, with Justin and Chance on Sunday,” he says with a smile. “You?”

Yeah, with E, I think to myself but answer with, “I am. I’m going with Chloe and my in-laws. We’ll be here on Sunday too.”

We make plans to meet at the beer garden with our friends on Sunday afternoon and continue to talk about the fair the rest of the way home. Once we reach our houses he gives me an affectionate hug and a sweet kiss. When he pulls away he says, “I’m glad I ran into you tonight. This was fun.” The smile he wears reaches his eyes and I melt. He really has such a beautiful smile.

I had a really great time too and I tell him exactly that. I then hurry inside to text E. I’m so excited about the fair tomorrow, I know it’s going to be a long, sleepless night.

Hey, babe!

What are you wearing?!

Yep! It’s going to be a long night, and in the best possible way.

I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M HERE—that I’m going to be near Dee. It’s a beautiful day, the sun’s shining brightly in the cloudless sky. Bright like my spirit. There are crowds of people wandering up and down the cramped walkways which are lined with color and I can’t control my smile knowing that Dee, the person who colors my world, is one of them. Still smiling, I take a deep breath and say to myself, “I’m breathing the same air you’re breathing, Dee.”

I know she’s here. I can feel it. I also know I’m not supposed to be looking and I really don’t want to see her, not that I’d know it if I did spot her. I decide to distract myself and buy something that will remind me of being near her. Having no idea what to get, I look around and spot it. A dreamcatcher, perfect! That’s EXACTLY what she is to me. While I’m shopping I decide to buy gifts for Dani, Chloe, my parents, Riley, Chance, and Justin. One-stop early Christmas shopping—perfect.

“Holy shit, look at them!” I say this under my breath and laugh.

Standing in front of me is the perfect couple to reference for Dee. There are always some people who grab everybody’s attention and these two are exactly that. They have to be in their late sixties—and clearly have never left that decade. A walking advertisement for peace and love. He’s wearing the standard tan suede vest with fringe and way too many peace signs to count. His gray hair is balding on the top and tied into a low ponytail. He clearly doesn’t have nearly enough hair for it, but hey, to each his own. “Dee, I hope you’re seeing these hippies,” I say quietly and chuckle to myself. I know these two would make her laugh. His companion is a rather large woman wearing a hideously colorful muumuu—similar to the ones Mrs. Roper wore on Three’s Company. They’re wrapped in each other’s embrace and look deliriously happy. The thought makes me sad because I know I’d be deliriously happy if I were here with Dee. Nope! I’m not going there. I am here with Dee and I plan on staying in the moment.

Dee, where are you?

I scan the crowd looking for…I don’t know. Just then I spot another couple and laugh while my ego takes a huge hit.

“God, Dee. Look at them!”

Standing in front of me are two people who look like they rarely leave the gym. They’re both wearing way too much spandex and damn—she has more muscles than I do.

Much to my surprise, I’m having a really good time. Shortly before two o’clock, I head home to text Dee. I was supposed to stay until two but I’m too excited to wait. I’m hoping she saw the same people I saw.

I didn’t see you. :(

Me neither. : (

It makes me happy she’s upset she didn’t see me.

That was the point.

I know. : (

I bought something to remind me of being near you.

Me too! Wow, E! We really do think alike.

We really do. But before I have a chance to tell her that, she continues.

You know what they say about great minds…

Yes, I know I have a great mind.

I love joking around with her. Humor is the very foundation of what we’ve built. I’ve grown to know her over the many months and countless hours we’ve been texting and even though we’ve never verbally spoken, I feel like I really know who she is.

That you do. But seriously, I had fun on our first official date. I couldn’t stop smiling!

I had fun too, Dee.

I did what you asked and checked out the people around me. It was really entertaining. I love people watching and it was fun doing it with a purpose.

We spend the next several minutes texting and laughing about the people we saw and I’m delighted we both saw the hippie couple and the gym rats. When I have us text each other as the hippies I keep having to put the phone down because I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. When I recover enough to text again, I realized I want to be near her again but she beats me to the punch.

We should do it again.

Are you asking me out on another date?

I smile at the thought that she wants to be near me again.

Yes!

I accept. When and where? Your pick.

The Manhattan Beach Hometown Fair is coming up at the beginning of October. I’m thinking then.

I’ll be there!

Oh yay! I also want us to buy each other another gift, E. Let’s make it a thing so when we see it, we’ll think of each other. Just make sure to keep it somewhere private; for our eyes only, you know?

OH! I want to do this too. So I text quickly hoping she’ll like this idea.

I just came up with another brilliant idea.

Oh, God, I’m afraid to ask!

No, Dee, you’ll like this.

OKAAAY?

I know the thought of me having an idea always makes her nervous. We keep each other on our toes.

I want us to leave each other a treat.

In one of our many texts, we talked about our favorite junk food, which led to what we’d eat if we were at a fair, carnival, or amusement park. She cringed at my choice but I firmly stand behind it. Blue cotton candy rocks!

You buy me some of the fabulous blue cotton candy I love and I’ll get you a caramel apple with chocolate on it. Let’s hide it behind the caramel apple concession stand. We’re going to be at the fair from 12:00-2:00 so I’ll go first. I’ll buy and hide your treat at noon, while I get one for myself. Then at one, you get your apple and leave me my cotton candy and at two, I’ll pick my cotton candy up. Good idea, right?!

Why would I leave you a treat if you already bought one for yourself? And look at you buying yourself a caramel apple. Finally developing a sophisticated sweet tooth, E?

Dee, we both know I already have a sophisticated sweet tooth and you know very well blue cotton candy is a sophisticated sweet treat. You can never have enough of this perfect dessert. And as far as the caramel apples go, I’m a convert. They really are good.

You’re delusional and, yes, I’m quite aware of your “sophisticated” sweet tooth. It’s about time you learned what a real treat tastes like. And I love that idea.

Her sarcasm makes me laugh. I could go on and on about the merits of blue cotton candy but I want this even more.

Good, then you’ll love this one too. Save your treat until we text each other so we can eat them together.

It’s going to kill me knowing she’s going to be at a certain place at a specific time. It would be so easy to see what she looks like and to actually meet her in person. So near, yet so far away.

Absolutely, I can’t wait. The next fair can’t come soon enough, I miss you already.

I couldn’t agree more.

She stops texting so I set my special phone down, but before I leave the room, it pings.

You know it’s almost been a year.

What the fuck! My mind starts wandering to this time last year and my mood instantly plummets. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since the accident and I can’t believe she needs to address this. I’m finally in a decent place but her bringing this up—making me think about it—I can feel myself falling back down the rabbit hole. I don’t want to go there so she’s only going to get the bare minimum out of me.

I know.

We need to talk about this.

No, Dee! We really don’t.

We really fucking don’t!

Yes, we do! We need to think about packing up their things.

I took what I needed when I moved out of my house but left everything else exactly as it was. I have no intention of ever going back there. Let alone, boxing up their things. But she’s right. Damn it!

I know.

She knows me well enough by now to know when I’m shutting down and I know her well enough to know when she’s about to push. It’s been a long time since she’s done that. She’s helped me through my pain in the past, she got me to have Thanksgiving dinner with my relatives and she got me to start building furniture again. Even though I don’t want to do this, every push has helped me move forward. I trust her and I’m going to let her help me get through this too.

Babe, I know you’re shutting down. I know you and I’m here.

Dee, you’re right. This is just too hard!

We NEED to do this. The end of the month is going to be brutal for both of us but it’ll be worse if their things are lying around.

I know.

EEEEE!

Dee, I haven’t stepped foot in that house since the day I moved out. It’s going to be like walking into a house full of ghosts and I’m petrified!

Babe, we’ll do this together. Every single step of the way. Like we always do. We’ll start off with my house and see how it goes.

She told me how her husband’s things are still in her closet, her bathroom, and scattered around her house. How it gives her a sense of comfort and how scared she is of losing that. She’s incredibly strong but everyone has their limit.

I’m not going to say those two words you don’t want to hear so instead I’ll just say okay.

Okay?

Yes, we both know they aren’t coming back and it has to be done but DAMN IT, DEE! This is still so fucking hard!

It’s just us! Dee and E, and together we can do anything. But, first things first, let’s just be excited about the fair.

I love you, babe.

I love how she can sense when I’m struggling. She helps me as much as I help her and I know that together, we can get through anything.

I love you too, E. Forever!

We’ve exchanged several texts since Fiesta Hermosa. We both can’t wait for the next fair but we’re both dreading the packing and anniversary. We’ve talked about meeting in person but we’re both too afraid to lose the strong connection we’ve developed. We’ve picked each other up off the ground and put each other back together more times than I can count. We’ve done that since the first text and it only happened because we did it together.

That being said… I can’t wait to be near her again. I felt her at Fiesta Hermosa. I know we were both in the same place at around the same time because we both saw the same people. So yeah, I’m looking forward to the Hometown Fair and I hope they sell dream-catchers. As far as the rest goes—I hope that one day in the future we can really meet, but for now not meeting is more urgent because I know that very soon, we’re going to need each other.

My daughter just left with my in-laws for the weekend.

I can’t believe I’m going to be packing up Scott’s things tomorrow. I know he isn’t coming back but I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to not see his things mixed with mine; I’m still not ready to let him go.

I know you’re not ready. We’ll be together every step of the way.

I love how well he knows me. Just seeing his words, and knowing I have his support, makes all the difference in the world. He makes it okay to keep moving forward.

You’re right. I’m not ready, I’m panic stricken! I know he isn’t coming back but DAMN IT, E! This isn’t right. We shouldn’t have to be doing this!

I completely agree, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here to hold your hand through the entire thing. YOU’RE SAFE!

Can you come over tomorrow? Please?! I’ll just text you my address and wait with your bottle of Johnnie Walker, my bottle of Patron, and a couple boxes of tissues… I’ll wait!

Ahhh, sweetheart, I love you and there’s nothing I’d rather do—

He doesn’t get to finish his text. His answer is unacceptable. My thumbs fly over the keypad at warp speed. I don’t want his excuses, I want him!

Don’t say it, E! There is no “but”! You CAN come over to my house. This stupid rule of ours is complete BULLSHIT! I can’t stop crying. I FUCKING NEED YOU!

You’re breaking my heart, Dee, but you know we can’t. We need each other too much right now to cross that line. We still have harder things ahead of us. Things we can only get through if we’re together. Please know though, I’m here. Maybe not physically but I’m right here with you! Me, Mr. Walker, and that stupid box of Betsy Johnson tissues you made me buy.

HAH! Only you could make me laugh through my tears. And even though I don’t like it, I understand.

Try to get some rest tonight, sweetheart. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.

He’s absolutely right, tomorrow’s going to be brutal.

I didn’t sleep a wink last night—I couldn’t. E and I spent the entire night texting. We talked about what we’ve been through and planned out what we still have in front of us. We set up all the moving boxes and got everything in place. We also discussed our rule about not meeting. I love that he’s here with me and right now I’ll take him anyway I can have him. His love and support is what’s kept me going since the accident. But damn it! It would be so great to actually have him here, in my arms. I know it will happen. One day we’re going to get through this, healthy and whole, and he will end up in my arms.

I make myself a pot of coffee and check that all the moving boxes are still in place. I make sure there are plenty of boxes of tissues ready; I’m so going to need them. I also have my bottle of Patron open with a shot glass waiting to be filled. I know it’s too damn early to drink but I really don’t give a shit. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do since the funeral. Though the difference is, this time I have E. I have his love and support and I know he has a bottle of Johnnie Walker ready so I won’t be drinking alone, at least after this shot. I down my first shot. Breakfast of champions and all that. But in reality, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to numb myself. Right after I push the cork back into the bottle, my phone pings.

Are you up, babe?

Yes, but you’re supposed to be sleeping.

I couldn’t sleep. I know you’re upset and nervous. I tried to sleep but when you’re hurting, I’m hurting.

I love you for that, and I know we planned everything out and got everything in place but I’m still not ready to do this.

Not even close.

Dee! I’m going to guide you through this. It’ll be just as if I’m standing next to you. I know you won’t be able to say much so when I ask just use the letter “K” so I know you’re with me.

K.

Switch your phone to voice command and hold out your free arm and open your hand. Take my hand and hold it.

I do as he says, then extend my arm and close my fingers, just as I would if I were holding his hand.

K.

That’s it, Dee! I’m clasping my hand around yours and squeezing it. I feel your hand in mine. Do you feel mine?

I can feel your hand but I’m scared, E. I can’t do this. Why are we doing this?

I know you’re scared, sweetheart. But we both know we have to do this. I’m here holding your hand. Let’s walk into your room. Tell me when you’re there.

I try to walk into my room. I sleep here every night but right now my legs won’t work.

I’m here. Oh God, E!

I know, baby. Are you looking at your closet?

I’m still frozen by the door as I text to answer him.

Yes.

Good job! We have all the boxes we set up last night and I know we put one by the closet. Let’s go in, together.

K.

I suck in a large breath and squeeze my hand tighter against his for support. Then I walk into the closet, grasping E’s hand like a lifeline.

I’m in.

It’s crazy how many times I’ve been in here over these past horrible months and was okay with it; but now I’m not.

No, we’re in. I’m in here with you. Feel my presence, Dee. Feel my support. I’ve got you!

Oh God…

We’re in.

Good girl! I’m going to let go of your hand now so you can grab his clothes. Put your phone on the table we set up.

I take a deep breath and do as he says.

It’s on the table.

You can do this. We can do this. We talked about all of this last night, in detail, so right now we’re going to do exactly what we planned. Start with the suits, hangers and all, and set them in the first box, as is.

Oh God, E! I’m crying so hard I can’t see!

Here’s a tissue, babe. Take it so you can see.

I look over at the table he made me put in here last night and sure enough, there’s a tissue lying next to the box. It really is like he’s in here with me. I can feel his presence. I feel stronger, and suddenly I know everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. I can do this.

Thank you for the tissue. I can do this. You being here helps.

I’m here for you. Always! Now grab the suits and put them in the box. Let me know when you’re done.

K.

I grab the first suit, my favorite. Even though I can’t smell him anymore, I can still feel him, and all the times I held him in my arms while he was wearing this suit. I close my eyes and remember the last time he wore it.

“You know that’s my favorite suit, Scottie.”

“That’s why I wear it.”

“Actually, I changed my mind.”

“You did?”

“Yep! Your birthday suit is my favorite.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll change immediately when I get home from my appointment.”

We never did make it to dinner that night.

I know you’re thinking about him. I can feel it and it’s okay. You’re doing great, Dee! Give me a hug.

To ground myself, I open my arms, hold them in the space in front of me where E would be if he were here. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around myself, and squeeze. I can feel my E with me.

Thanks for the hug. I’m going to grab his pants now.

Take your time, sweetheart. You can do this. There’s no rush.

E’s right. I can do this! With him beside me, I can. So with renewed determination, I get to work, remembering something from each piece of clothing I put in the boxes.

There, they’re in the box.

For the next few hours I pack up the rest of the closet, his drawers, and the toiletries I never had the heart to move. I also pack up all his personal things scattered around the house and throw away all his favorite foods. The ones I keep buying and tossing when they rot or expire. It was hard but E helped me through it. I cried, he made me laugh. I reminisced, he listened.

I need a drink.

I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You deserve one. Take my hand, let’s get you that drink.

Hand in hand, we walk into the kitchen. With the first shot poured, E makes a toast.

To moving forward!

I hold out my shot, repeat his toast and let the clear liquid slide down my throat. The burn from the tequila is a welcome relief. God, I needed it.

Another?

Abso-fucking-lutely!

E makes me eat the food we prepared the night before and we both take our sandwiches outside so we can enjoy the sun together. I look over at Ian’s house. I haven’t seen him in a while and I have no plans to see him anytime soon. What I’m going through is too hard and way too personal; I need E, not Ian. He’s become a good friend and I hope one day he’ll eventually understand the reason for my absence.

I also feel at peace. E kept telling me how proud he was of me and that he knew I could do it. His support made all the difference and I know he’s close—I can feel him.

By late afternoon I was completely done, both mentally and physically. All the boxes are taped and set out in the garage. Eventually I’ll bring them to the Salvation Army, but for now, I’m leaving them in my garage.

Later, we decide to watch a movie together and fire up Netflix. He jokes about wanting to watch a movie like A Nightmare on Elm Street, he then follows with Ghostbusters. He thinks he’s so funny. I know he’s joking so I hit back with The Notebook, just to see what he says. After he begs me to keep his balls intact, we settled on Money Pit, a true classic. He’s never seen it, much to my surprise, since it is right up his alley. He ends up loving it and we laugh and joke through the entire movie.

After the credits roll, we spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and drinking. Drunk texting is hysterical! The later it gets, the drunker we become. The gaps in time between the texts say it all. Autocorrect has a field day. How we even understand each other is a miracle, but we stay with it, texting back and forth until I fall asleep with my special phone in my hand.

E’s packing up his house next weekend. I know it’s going to be brutal for him but I’ll be by his side, just like he was for me.

LAST WEEKEND WE PACKED UP all of Dee’s husband’s things. She needed me there with her and it killed me not being able to comfort her the way she deserved to be comforted. Still, I know that I achieved just that, albeit virtually.

Dee knows I haven’t stepped foot in my old house since I moved out just after she left to go back to her childhood home and I’m a basket case. We decided we were only going to pack up my wife and son’s personal belongings and that I’d leave the rest to a moving company. She wanted to plan the whole thing out like we did for her husband’s things but there was no way I was going to spend a minute longer in that place than absolutely necessary. Get in, throw everything in the closest box, and get out. And that’s exactly what I told her.

Fuck that! There is no way in hell I’m doing this twice.

It takes us over an hour just to get me over there and through the front door. I had to stop at the entrance to the alley because the memories that assaulted me had me paralyzed. The highlight reel of my life began to play in an endless loop. I taught Alex how to ride a bike in this alley, his delight as fresh as if it were happening at that moment. But it went deeper than that. Teaching him how to walk, then run and climb. Indian guides, T-ball, holidays, birthdays, and, of course, karate. Watching him experiencing new things for the first time. Seeing things through his eyes. The pride in the little things and the sheer joy in the bigger ones. The beauty in this world was extinguished when he took his last breath and the pain of not being able to comfort him… And then there are the dreams and hopes, the future he’ll never have. And it hurts…so fucking much!

How am I supposed to live without them?

I also couldn’t park in the garage. I opened it but quickly pushed the button to close the door. I remember seeing it empty after the accident and that feeling of emptiness almost had me turning around. Dee helped me. Dee always helps me. She flooded my phone with stupid GIFs, funny quotes, and silly memes.

Once I finally make it inside, she has me sit on the couch, not the floor like I want to. Old habits die hard. I have my bottle of Johnnie Walker and I know she has her bottle of Patron. After she has me drag in several boxes, we each have three shots before she makes me stop. She tells me she won’t be able to help me if we get too drunk and even though I don’t want to stop drinking, I do. I quickly set up the boxes and sneak in an extra shot, straight from the bottle because it’s times like this when the glass is just pointless.

Dee then has me set up my phone to text with voice command. Like she did last weekend. She uses every distraction she can dream up. Her support and all our playful exchanges help me gather the strength I need to move forward.

Okay, babe. I’m right next to you. Let’s do this. Take my hand. Close yours around it, just like we did last weekend. Feel me, E. Breathe me!

Okay.

We finally move, but when we get to my old bedroom, I freeze and stop texting. I know Dee can feel me completely shutting down and is probably picturing me running out of the house without packing up a single thing. I know it’s not what she wants me to do and I don’t want to let her down. I also know it has to be done.

I can feel you shutting down. I know you want to run but you’re so strong, E, and you have me. Can you feel me?

Yes.

Okay, you have two of the boxes we just set up. Let’s go into the master bedroom. Follow me and grab those boxes. Come on!

I love when her texts get all bossy. I picture her squaring her shoulders and jutting out her chin as she gets ready to lead me around by my ear. And in the middle of this hell, I actually crack a smile.

I’m coming, Ms. Pushy!

Good boy! Now, phone on the table. Start loading. Grab what you can get to first.

Packing up Alyssa’s things is hard and takes a really long time. Even though I’m not going to keep anything in here, I don’t want strangers going through her personal things. That being said, everything I touch breaks my soul just that much more.

But, Alex’s room…well, let’s just say, that’s a whole other story.

It’s exactly like it was the day he left to get his yellow belt. “I can’t do this,” I say into the empty room. But just as I turn to leave, my phone pings and through my tears I see the classic picture of a cat hanging from a tree with the caption, “Just hang in there.”

“God, Dee,” I laugh despite myself, then sink to the floor and sob. “Just hang in there, yeah, right.”

E! I need you to text me.

Shit! I left Dee hanging. The thought makes me think of the stupid cat picture and I shake my head and chuckle. It also brings me back to the present and I look around Alex’s room, the room I custom designed and the urge to share it with Dee is overwhelming.

I need to tell you about his bedroom.

God, E…

I remember building his bed. It’s a bunk bed I designed to look like a space shuttle. There’s a ladder attached on the outside to get to the top bunk and a cockpit in the front with a bench seat that’s a toy chest. I even added a real steering wheel to make it more authentic.

Wow, E, it sounds wonderful.

Leave it to her to be so thoughtful.

It is. It’s white with red and blue trim, I even added the American flag.

He loved it, didn’t he?

My son being referred to in the past tense shatters me. It makes it all the more real that I’ll never see him grow. There will never be a graduation. He’ll never attend college, fall in love, get married, or have kids. He’ll never get that chance. He was stripped of all that and it’s so fucking unfair!

I can’t do this! I start shaking. My breath becomes quick and shallow and my vision blurs. The only thing that saves me is the constant ping of Dee’s texts.

E…!

I need you to answer me!

Are you there?

EEEEEE!

I’m coming to you! Text me your address!

E! ANSWER MY FUCKING TEXTS!

Oh fuck! She has to be freaking out.

I can’t do this, Dee. My wife’s things were hard but this…

Breathe, E. We have all the time in the world and I’m not going anywhere. I’m next to you on the floor. I’m sitting with you. Are you sitting with me?

Yes…

Take my hand. Lean back against the wall with me. Take a deep breath and tell me more about his room.

I close my eyes and stretch out my arm, clasping it around where hers would be if she were here. I can feel her and I know I’m not alone.

We had all the walls painted with murals of astronauts and aliens. Cartoon figures standing on the surfaces of planets. And the ceiling is dark blue and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars arranged in constellations. Deeee…

I can’t stop crying!

Tell me when you are ready to stand up again and we will. We don’t need to rush this. We’re in no hurry!

FUCK!

I can’t do this! She should be here with me. I need her to be here with me. Now I know how she felt last weekend and I hate it!

E, I’m not ready yet.

What does she mean? What’s she not ready for?

Let’s have a shot. I know you brought Johnnie in the room with you. Pour us a shot.

She knows I’m not ready and this is her way of giving me some time. We knew Alex’s room was going to be extremely hard so she had me bring my bottle of Johnnie. I swallow the whisky, straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat and smile when I read:

I need another.

Another lie, I really do love her.

Me too.

By the time I finish packing up the house, the sun is already starting to set. I stopped drinking hours ago. I want to get out of here the minute I’m finished and the rest of their personal things didn’t require me being numb to get it done. I load up their things into my car and voice text with Dee all the way home.

As exhausted as I am, I still need her. We drink some more and she gets me to watch a movie. She lets me choose, so I pick a Michael Bay movie. I cringe when I think about the movies I suggested when she packed up her husband’s things. After going through what I just went through, I’m not surprised The Notebook was what she came back with. I almost want to indulge her but I seriously need to see shit get blown up. When the movie ends, I notice she’s stopped answering my texts. She’s always told me if she falls asleep texting me it’s because she didn’t want to say goodbye. I know she’s fallen asleep and I leave her with…

I love you.

Next up, the one-year anniversary of their deaths. I’m dreading that but at least I won’t have to go through it alone.

TODAY’S THE DAY WE’VE BOTH been dreading. I dreaded packing up their things; that was brutal but for some weird reason, when it was all done, l felt this weird sense of peace. Today’s the one-year anniversary and we’re heading to where they’re buried to visit them. I can’t believe it’s been a year and I’m sure we would never have made it this far if we didn’t have each other.

Dee and I have been texting about this day for a while now and last night we had another long talk about it. The entire night to be exact. We decided that we should do it together, through texts, like we’ve done everything else.

Dee had her in-laws take her daughter so she could do it alone. I’m sure they wanted to visit him too, but I’m happy they respected her decision.

Once I make it through the gates of Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City I text Dee. I can’t believe I’m here and that I’m actually doing this. I’m freaking out and can’t stop shaking. I don’t want to do this. It’s like digging into my skin with a jagged knife and opening up painful wounds that haven’t completely healed.

Dee says this is necessary. A necessary evil, that can go fuck itself.

Are you there yet?

Yes, I’m at the cemetery. Are you at yours yet?

Unfortunately, I am.

Yeah.

Did you bring the gifts you got for them?

Sure did, Dee. Did you bring yours?

Yep.

Since we knew that the one-year anniversary was coming up and we knew we’d be visiting them, we each got a small gift from the Hometown Fair to put on the graves. I can tell by her texts that I’m not alone in the freak-out department. Her texts are usually flowery and drawn out, not blunt like they are now. I have a feeling she hasn’t left her car.

Have you left your car yet?

No, and I don’t want to.

I agree. I just want to go home, plant my ass on the couch with a cold beer, and forget this day even exists.

I don’t want to be here either, Dee. But we both know it has to be done.

Okay, E, you’ve always been the brave one. You first.

My bravery went out the window the minute I drove through the entrance of this terrible place.

I can’t believe we’re doing this. I take a deep breath, wipe my tears, and add:

Hell, Dee, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to even be here in the first place. I’d still be at home!

I wish we were at home joking and drinking.

I wish that too, sweetheart. This is really hard.

We’re acting like this is the last time we’re ever going to see them. In a sense it is, because this time, we’re truly accepting that they’re never coming back.

Remind me again why the fuck we need to do this?!

Instead of answering, she texts me a different question.

Have you ever visited them?

I’m sure she knows I haven’t been here much.

Once in the beginning. You?

I’m sure she has.

Yeah, a few times. I came on his birthday with his parents and my daughter and a few times on my own. It was too hard though, you know? You and I have come so far and each time I’m here…I just sit next to his headstone and sob. I feel like for every forward step I’ve been taking, coming here sets me two steps back.

They’re really not here, you know. I feel them every day and I know you feel him too.

I know. You and your damned big brain.

It’s nice to see she’s trying to lighten the mood. Her distractions always seem to help ground me.

I’m not even going to joke about big things right now. But, like you did in our early texts, you just made me smile. So, thanks, love.

God, E, is this ever going to get easier? Why is this still so hard?!

I’ve asked myself those questions every day since the day they died. I really wish I had an answer for her but, sadly… I don’t.

I don’t know, babe. Honestly, I don’t think it ever will. I think that’s why we’re both still sitting in our cars, stalling.

Okay, I think that the only way that we’re ever going to be able to get out of our cars is if we’re childish about this.

She’s about to throw out another one of her crazy ideas and they always make me nervous. I just hope that this one will get us out of our cars.

Childish???

Yep, let’s count to three and get out at the same time.

You’re right. Childish, immature, crazy, and stupid, but you’re right.

I’m right about my idea being childish, immature, crazy, and stupid? And thanks for that by the way! Or I’m right about doing the counting thing?

All of the above and you’re still stalling! Let’s just rip the Band-Aid off together. 1…

Oh God, E! I’m scared shitless… Okay…1.

2.

I can’t do this…2.

I can’t either but we are doing this…3.

FUCK! 3.

I’m out! You?!

I’m out, E, but I can’t do this. My legs just gave out. I can’t say goodbye. I don’t want to!

Dee, baby, I’m sitting on the grass with you. Give me a hug, sweetheart, we’re not saying goodbye. We’re never going to say goodbye to them. We both know this. Yet, we’ve only moved from the car to the grass in front of the car in the past thirty minutes.

Hah! I can’t even stop crying long enough to even see where I’m going so I’m surprised we’ve even moved that far.

Stand up, hold out your arm, and take my hand. We’ve done this all together before. ALL. OF. IT! So, take my hand and feel my strength.

I have it. Do you feel mine?

Always! Let’s do this.

Okay.

I take a deep breath and start moving but come to a sudden stop. Seeing three graves in front of me with the name Montgomery on them is very surreal and incredibly painful. I need my Dee.

There are actually three graves here… I need to sit down and I really need a hug again. I can’t breathe, Dee, help me!

E, baby! I’m here, I’m holding you! PLEASE feel me!

Dee…

Why can’t we actually be together? Seriously, E, why the fuck not?!

I don’t want to do this anymore. Can we please just go home?

OH God, E… MY HEART IS SHATTERING! Fuck this stupid rule of ours, of not physically being together! Tell me where you are. I’m coming to you!

Give me one second. FUCK! Now I know why I’ve only been here once.

Oh my God, E! PLEASE! PLEASE! Let me come to you!

You are with me, Dee. You really are. My forehead is against yours right now, I can feel you. Close your eyes. Can you feel it? Can you feel me?!

I can feel you. I still love him and I want him back!

I can feel her crying as hard as I am and I still love them too. So fucking much!

I want them back too. I just put their gifts on their graves. Did you?

Yes.

Good girl!

The two of us stop texting; it’s unspoken. We both understand we need time to sit with our memories. I look up at the sky and then back at the graves. “I love you guys and miss you so fucking much!” I cry out, the pain in my soul echoing back at me across the cavernous expanse, dotted with the memories of lost loved ones. I lie down on Alyssa’s grave, close my eyes, and just cry. The fire burning in my chest matches the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. But I haven’t heard from Dee in a while and that worries me.

I suddenly have an epiphany. Without realizing it, I’ve moved forward and somehow, Dee’s burrowed her way under my skin, helped me cope, helped me heal, and helped me grow. So with newfound clarity, I text her.

My eyes hurt from crying so hard. We need to get back to us, Dee. We need to do what we do best and I know we can do it, even from here.

Your text just brought me back to reality and I’m not thinking very clearly. How can we get back to us from here?

See, this is where my big brain comes in handy.

I use her words to try to make her smile again and I am going to make her smile again, if it’s the last thing I ever do. So without waiting for a reply, I text:

We need to lighten the mood. We always make each other laugh and we both need it right now so I have a plan.

I know she’s going to like this plan. She likes silly things and well…so do I.

Yeah, you’re right, yet again. We need to do something that’ll make both of us feel better. But, whenever you say the word “plan,” I get nervous.

My plans make her nervous? Pfft!

Hah! So, okay…what would that hippie couple from the fair be saying to each other if they were sitting here right now? I think that they would be saying something like… “This is like totally fucked up, duuuude!”

Oh my God, E! That’s all wrong. That’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High!

I’m smiling again. She’s my light! Her presence has been bringing me back from the darkness from day one and I thank God every single day I have her. And even though I can’t see her, I know she’s smiling.

There’s that smile I know and love. I wasn’t alive back then and I can’t even remember my own name right now let alone what we said in our texts after the fair. What do hippies even say to each other? Obviously, you’re the expert! So why don’t you enlighten me, Little Miss Smarty Pants.

Hah! Thanks for that. And FYI, I’m not that old.

Dee, we’ve known each other for about a year now so when I say expert…I mean expert about EVERYTHING! So go ahead, show me how it’s done.

You’ve learned well, young Padawan. But you’re the one with the “Big Brain” so you go ahead. Show me your mad skills.

Well, babe. Since you asked…

We start going back and forth, as if we were that couple. The more we text, the lighter I feel. When she tells me she has to go to her in-laws’ or, as Dee calls it, “Squaresville,” I let her know that’s a “bummer.” Dee’s on a roll and it’s cracking me up. I laugh so hard I have tears rolling down my cheeks, for a much better reason, and without even realizing I was even walking, I’m suddenly at my car.

I feel so much better.

I love your verbal diarrhea, Dee. I know that we’re both a few cans short of a six pack right now, but really, get carried away much?! Seriously though, thanks. It feels so good to laugh and I never would have gotten through this day without you.

She agrees and we say our goodbyes.

I’m going to go home and have a brewski.

Right on, man.

As I’m heading out of the cemetery, to the new life I’ve created, I vow that I am going to meet her face to face, very, very soon.

Dee, are you free to text?

I just put my daughter to sleep. What’s up?

I’m following through on the vow I made when I left the cemetery and now I just have to get her to go along with it. I’ve gotten through so much this past year and it’s all because Dee’s been there every step of the way. Her words have healed me and her spirit has lifted me. But what I haven’t gotten from her is her physical presence. It’s the missing link and I’m about to rectify that.

When I first texted her, I was barely existing. Spending all my time on the floor by the front door waiting for Alyssa and Alex to come home. Now, when I look back at everything I’ve accomplished since the accident, I’m truly amazed. I moved into a new home and have gotten out of the house more. I’ve spent time with Justin and Chance again and I’ve been volunteering regularly at Austin House. I traveled to New York and started designing and building furniture again. I packed up and sold the Manhattan Beach house and I said goodbye to Alyssa, Alex, and our baby at their gravesites on the one-year anniversary of their deaths. All things I know I never would have done, if not for the invisible person behind the text messages.

I also know I never would’ve been able to become friends with Dani. When she hit Po, just seeing him unconscious would have done me in. Without the strength I got from Dee I wouldn’t have had the ability to hold myself together, let alone become friends with her. I haven’t spoken to Dani recently. What Dee and I have been going through has been incredibly difficult and I wouldn’t have been a very good friend. I’ve avoided seeing her and I hope that when all is said and done, she’ll understand my reasoning and forgive my absence.

Dee’s the most important person in my life and I desperately need to physically meet her. It’s all that I’ve been thinking about. I just hope that she agrees to do this.

Do you trust me?

I know she trusts me with her life. She’s proven that, time and time again, but I need to have her one hundred percent on board. She’s going to completely freak out about what I’m going to ask her. We’ve been over this so many times; always too afraid to cross the line, strangled by the fear of losing each other. But that is NOT going to happen. I will NOT allow it.

Oh my God! YES, E. You know I do. With my life! What’s this about?

I want to meet you…. Face to face.

Meet me???

Mama D’s, YOU and ME! 1/2 & 1/2—half mushroom, half not-mushroom pizza.

In our early texts, we went back and forth about our favorite restaurants. Which ones are the best and what we like to order at each one. We both love Mama D’s but I have a serious issue with having fungus on my pizza. Our compromise was to split the pizza and order what we like on our half. When I decided we were going to meet, it was the first place I thought of.

But…

Look, Dee, we’ve spent this past year saving each other. We’ve scraped each other off the floor, literally. We’ve pieced each other back together over and over and over again. We’ve built each other up through friendship, support, and laughter. We’ve become the best of friends and we’ve found love. We’ve become as close as two people can become without having ever met.

I stop texting to take a deep breath and to send a silent prayer that she’ll say yes. But knowing Dee, she’ll need more reassurance so I continue.

We’ve also been together at the same place at the same time. Yet, we’ve never seen each other. We’ve never heard each other’s voices, never touched. I’m begging you. Just one dinner. Let me hold your hand. Let me gaze into your beautiful eyes. Let me hear the music that is your voice. Please, Dee. I need this! I need to be with you more than I need air or water to survive.

Yes.

FUCK YEAH!

Shit, E! I’m scared…petrified! We can’t screw this up. But when you say shit like that…

Oh thank God! I’m scared too but the need to meet her is so strong it overrules every fear.

I know, sweetheart, I’m scared too! But I mean what I said. We aren’t going to screw this up!

What if we lose us? I can’t lose you, E. I won’t recover!

We know each other too well and I promise you that neither of us will EVER allow ANYTHING to come between us. We can do this. Not only did we survive this past year but we’ve become stronger and all of this was accomplished through text messaging. I never would’ve been able to have achieved any of the milestones I’ve achieved without your support. This has all happened because of you. You, babe!

I’m crying now! Please. Please promise me we won’t lose us. PLEASE!

I promise!

I really fucking do!

Okay, I can get my in-laws to watch my daughter. What time do you want to meet?

Let’s say 5:30. You know they get super busy on weekends. We can have an early dinner and then walk down to the beach and talk.

I’ll be there and I’ll be wearing a green dress to bring out the green in my hazel eyes.

I know she’s going to be stunning on the outside because she’s that and so much more on the inside. She’s smart and funny, compassionate and giving, loving, supportive, sarcastic, and amazingly sexual. It also doesn’t matter what she looks like. She can have one eye and a giant goiter on her neck and I’d still find her incredibly beautiful because I fell in love with her soul.

You, my love, have just made my night! I seriously can’t wait.

That night I climbed in bed with a big-ass smile on my face. The biggest smile that I’ve had all year.

I can’t believe I’m meeting Dee! Actually. Physically. Meeting. Her. I can’t believe she agreed to meet me! I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I wanted it to be the next day so desperately and the clock couldn’t have moved any slower if it tried. I need this with every fiber of my being; a need so strong it’s bordering on survival. I’m so incredibly nervous and so incredibly excited at the same time. This is the last piece of the puzzle. Everything is where it should be and I can finally move towards my future. My future with Dee.

I decide to leave early and walk to Mama D’s. It’s a couple of miles but I need the time to calm down. It’s a beautiful Friday night by the beach and I love walking alongside it. The air is crisp and the sunsets off the California coast this time of year are spectacular.

Since I’m running early, I decide to make a detour and head down to the shoreline. I take off my shoes and roll up my pants to wade into the tide. I want to talk to Alyssa. When I get back to the water’s edge I sit down and look up at the sky and the sun setting over the horizon.

“I’m meeting Dee tonight, Allie,” I say softly. “She’s amazing. You’d love her. I know you’d approve.”

I tell her all about Dee. I also tell her about Dani because I know she would have liked her too. I start to think about Dee and Dani and the things they have in common. I wonder if they ever met if they would become friends; I have a feeling they would.

A lonely tear falls silently down my face. I don’t brush it off. I want to feel it. “I miss you, baby. I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

Other tears trail in its wake as I continue. “Saying goodbye to you, Alex, and the baby was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t want to do it but I knew I had to, to survive. I know you guys aren’t in that cemetery but it still was so damn hard. Dee helped me.” I chuckle at the memory of how she made me do it. “Actually, she forced me to do it. She’s been forcing me to do a lot of things since day one. It was really stupid how it actually started but it turned out to be one of the greatest things that ever could’ve happened to either of us.” It feels good to be telling her this. I look up at the sky hoping she can see me.

“I never planned on texting her but I was dying, Allie. I couldn’t even pick myself up off the floor. We’ve been good for each other. I fell in love with her. I never planned on loving anyone else but you, but I do love her, with all my heart. She’s become my best friend. Please know though that you’ll always have a piece of my heart. You, our baby, and Alex. Love them for me. Let them know I miss them and that Po’s doing well. I know that’ll make them happy. I will always love you.”

With that, I pick myself up, dry my eyes, dust myself off, and head to my future…to Dee.

When I approach Mama D’s I take a long and deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves and slow my racing heart, as I always do, and enter the restaurant.

“Can I help you?” the hostess asks.

And when I answer, I immediately know that nothing in my life will ever be the same.

“YES!” WE BOTH ANSWER AT the same time.

We turn towards each other and we both just know. It’s instantaneous.

“No…” I whisper in disbelief, shock gripping my entire being. I shake my head because this has to be a dream. There’s no way. This cannot be real. “Deeeee?!” Can Dani really be Dee? Can Dee really be Dani? How is that even possible?!

I gasp and my hand flies onto my mouth “E?!” I can barely breathe. Can this really be real? Can Ian really be E? Can E really be Ian? How is that even possible? What? How? Is this really happening?!

“Dee…” I exhale her name like a prayer and embrace the tears which are now falling from my eyes. And it hits me. Dee really is Dani and Dani really is Dee. Oh my God!

“Oh my God…” I whisper through my fingers, my tears matching his. It is real! E really is Ian and Ian really is E! I just lose it, completely lose it. I drop my hand and make a sound that may, or may not, have sounded like the letter E and launch myself into his arms.

Dee is in my arms! Dani is in my arms! They’re the same person! Holy shit! I don’t think; I just react and attack her mouth with mine. At this point it’s a good thing the hostess greeted us just inside the restaurant because we’re acting like two lost souls who have finally reunited. Fuck! We are two lost souls who have finally reunited. Dee and I are soulmates and this is meant to be.

“My Dee,” I keep repeating between kisses as I carry her out of the restaurant and to the side of the building. I can’t stop crying and I can’t stop kissing her. I needed her desperately and now she’s here! Our tears become one, our bodies become one, our souls become one, and I’m whole again; unbelievably, irreconcilably, whole. We cling to each other, laughing and crying at the same time. She’s everything I’ve dreamt of and so much more.

“E…” I’m in E’s arms. I’m in Ian’s arms. This is unbelievable! We keep kissing, touching, and breathing each other in. He’s my oxygen and I’m his. The world has faded away. Only he and I exist. Time has no meaning. I’m lost and found at the same time. So many nights spent dreaming of him. So many days spent wondering about him. He’s everything and I’m complete. I’m whole.

“You’re really real,” I say through the happiest tears I’ve ever shed. I can’t stop breathing her in. And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t smell exactly like fresh air and springtime.

I needed her with every fiber of my being and now she’s in my arms and I can breathe again. Now I can be again. I don’t want to let her go in fear this may all be a beautiful dream, so I don’t. I touch her hair, her arms, her back, her face, everywhere I can reach. I need all of her! I also can’t stop kissing her so I go right back to kissing her again and again and again.

“Oh my God!” I still can’t believe this! It doesn’t make sense. Their names aren’t even spelled the same.

But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here, we’re together. The promise I made to myself when I was packing up Scott’s things came to fruition. We did get through this, we are healthy and whole, and he did end up in my arms. We did it!

I can’t stop crying, or kissing him, or touching him, or holding him. If this is just a dream, it’s a dream I never want to wake up from. I finally have him and I never want this to end!

I lean my forehead against hers to just be. To breathe her air, to feel her heartbeat. I kiss her again, pull back and through the smile I can’t seem to get rid of, I ask, “How did we not see it, Dee? We’re both intelligent, how did we not make the connection? I love both of you so much and you’re the same damn person!”

E lays his forehead, once again, against mine, giving the both of us a chance to actually process the fact that we’re in each other’s arms and to think about his question. But I don’t want to think and I never want to move. I want to spend forever tucked in the safe embrace of his strong arms. Like him, I have a million questions I want to ask, though before I have the chance, I feel him, once again, pull back and it’s then I notice his smile and I melt. His eyes are smiling, the sadness in them…gone. And suddenly it doesn’t matter that we never made the connection. Suddenly I feel incredibly free. Incredibly happy and that joy explodes from my soul like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

She doesn’t answer, instead she just starts laughing, a laugh so free I can’t help but join in. We’re both laughing at the absurdity of this entire situation. I still want to ask her a million questions but her lips are like a magnetic force I never want to be away from. My mouth falls onto hers again and I taste shock, disbelief, and sheer joy.

E’s mouth never leaves mine. He’s breathing in all my emotions and I’m tasting his. I taste shock, relief, happiness, and love and it’s all mine. “I don’t understand, your name is Ian.” It’s the one thing that doesn’t make sense and I feel his lips smile before he answers.

I’ve spent my entire life having my name spelled wrong. When I was younger it really bothered me but as I became older, I learned to embrace it and began to really love having an unusual spelling. With our foreheads still pressed together and my smile firmly in place, I say, “With an E.”

It takes my confused brain a minute to realize what he said. Of course, he doesn’t spell it the traditional way. That would have been too easy. This time instead of a laugh, I groan and ask, “Who spells Ian with an E?!”

She’s so absolutely adorable. Her face is scrunched and I can see the wheels spinning in her brain. My smile is broad as I say, “Me.” And when she asks why, I start to laugh. I can’t help myself. I laugh out loud, a deep soul-filled laugh, because it’s so true and I’ve heard that question a million times. “My mom chose to spell my name with an ‘E’ instead of an ‘I’ because if anyone wanted to give me a nickname and my name was spelled with an ’I,’ then my nickname would’ve been ‘I.’ She wanted my nickname to be ‘E’ because that’s how my name’s pronounced, therefore…” I wave my arm around like a magician about to reveal his trick. “E-A-N!”

I swat him lightly on the chest. “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” I’m trying to be serious but failing miserably, and when he laughs harder, I can’t help but join in. This is seriously the stupidest, most unbelievable, most hilarious thing that has ever happened to me.

“Hi, Dani with a D,” I reply, still laughing, and kiss her again because, well because I have to and because I can. I haven’t put her down! I’m never putting her down. I haven’t stopped kissing her. I’m never going to stop kissing her! She’s my life and I’m never letting her go.

“Hi, Ian with an E.” We kiss deeper this time. Our kiss is slow and sensuous, like the kisses we’ve “shared” through our texts. But this time it’s real and so incredibly perfect. We take our time exploring each other’s mouths, caressing each other’s tongues, giving and taking in each other’s moans. We just hold on to each other, clinging to one another, unwilling to ever let go.

I finally break the kiss, pull back, and look deep into her eyes. “Your eyes, Dee, they’re magical. It’s the only way I can describe them.” I throw back my head and groan. “Do you know how many times I’ve looked into your eyes and thought the exact same thing?! This is insane!” I shake my head because this is just too crazy. “I’ve been captivated by your eyes from the first moment I saw you as Dani! But, as Dee, I’ve fallen asleep dreaming about what they might look like more nights than I can count.”

“I know, this is absolutely unbelievable! I’ve seen your eyes a million times before and each time I’m in awe by the beauty of them. But, E, with you…I see your soul.”

I kiss her, hard, showing her the urgency that I feel when I say, “We have to get out of here! I need to be closer to you. I need to be inside of you. We need to leave NOW! I walked here! Where’s your car?!”

“Back that way.” I nod behind us with my head and start laughing because he is suddenly full of piss and vinegar. “You walked here? That’s far!”

I shake my head and answer her as I briskly head towards her car. “Don’t ask. But I have to say, right now, it’s pretty damn convenient I did, because we need to be at your house. Like yesterday!”

“Like yesterday,” I repeat, agreeing wholeheartedly while peppering kisses all over his face as we head to my car, wrapped up so tightly around one another there’s no room for even air to pass between us.

“Keys,” I ask, once we reach her car. The same car that I’ve seen countless times parked on the street in front of my house and I just groan. Un-fucking-believable!

I laugh at his groan when we reach my car. I feel the exact same way, complete shock mixed with utter happiness.

There’s no question, no discussion. Just need! We let each other know through our kisses how much we need each other. We don’t stop touching as we quickly head towards my house. Neither of us willing to be separated, not for even a second. And now that E and I have truly found one another, that will never change!

THE MINUTE WE GET TO my house and through the door we’re on each other; kissing with more intensity than I’ve ever felt before. My lips are bruised, my tongue is sore. I need him and nothing else matters. Clothes are flying off and once we’re naked I’m back in his arms and he has me backed up against the wall.

“Fuck, Dee! It feels so good to be wrapped up in you! I’ve wanted you for so long.” I kiss her with an intense passion that’s mixed with fierce desperation and raw hunger. “I need to be inside you, Dee, I need to feel you, to love you, all of you.” I still can’t believe this; it’s so surreal and so fucking good!

He tells me he’ll pull out, I tell him I’m on the pill. We both know we’re clean. The only person we’ve been with this past year is each other and that was through text.

“Bedroom, NOW! It’s down the hall, the only room on the right,” I command. I don’t care if I’m being demanding. The urgency I feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before and my need for him is so vital it surpasses the need for air.

Dee and I hurry down the hall wrapped tightly around each other and fall onto the bed as one. Never even an inch separating us. Once she’s beneath me, I say, “Dee, I promise I’ll take my time with you and worship every inch of your body but right now…I just need to be inside of you and I know I won’t be able to control myself.”

“In. Me. Now. E!” I demand, gripping him with my arms and my legs, trying to bring us closer together. A year of sexual tension, waiting, dreaming, teasing, and sexting. I can’t wait one more second. I want if fast, I want it hard, I want it raw, and I want it NOW! I need his passion, I need him to claim me, I need him to make me his.

Our lips slam together. We’re holding onto each other so tightly we can feel our hearts beating as one. Without taking my eyes off her, I enter her in one swift motion until I’m so deep I can’t tell where she starts and where I stop. I ask her if she’s okay and when she says, “I’m more than okay,” I let loose. I really want to take my time with her but right now…there’s no way.

We both cry out when he enters me. E’s inside me! It’s so unbelievable and so incredibly amazing! I can’t tell where he begins and where I end.

This isn’t slow sensual passion; no “getting to know you.” We already know each other. We’re hungry! Desperation laced with such a strong need that our bodies are moving on their own accord. “God, Dee, hearing you, your passion! I’ve dreamt about this for so long.”

“EEEAAAAHHH!” I cry out. “You feel so incredible.” This is so amazing, so much better than anything I’d ever imagined. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop!”

We capture each other’s mouths again, our kiss rough and demanding. I put one hand behind her head, grabbing her silky hair to bring us closer while my other hand moves over her gorgeous body, memorizing every glorious curve. We’re out of control! I keep praising her, I keep telling her I love her, and I keep saying, “So fucking good!” Because it really is, so fucking good.

He’s slamming into me and I’m meeting him with such force we’re sure to break one another but we can’t stop. This frantic need cannot be contained. The only sounds that can be heard are the deep sounds of pleasure erupting from each of us. The chanting of Dees and Es, mixed with the sound of our bodies as they come together in our passionate dance. It’s music! Beautiful, joyful, amazing music!

I feel my body tingling, my muscles tightening, my body begging for release. My orgasm blindsides me; I fall and fly at the same time. Blinding white lights explode behind my eyelids. Everything ceases to exist. I scream his name and explode! My body shaking, my breath ragged, my ears ringing. I couldn’t stop this force even if I tried and I never want it to end.

Watching Dee fall apart, my name falling from her lips and the feeling of her clenching around me is my undoing. It hurls me over the edge and I fall with her. Flying! I roar so loudly the walls shake as I come with more intensity than I’ve ever come in my entire life. My arms give out and I fall against her, both of us clinging to each other, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.

“I can’t feel my bones but I don’t want to squish you.”

“Stay! I don’t care! This is too amazing.” I don’t want him to ever move, breathing be damned. Having his weight blanketing me feels too good.

“You know, I’m sure I blacked out there for a minute,” I say looking into her amazing eyes.

“I don’t think that my minute’s up yet,” I reply, still reeling from the most passionate orgasm of my life. What we just experienced was an emotional connection rather than a sexual act. It was intense, powerful, and incredibly amazing.

We look deep into each other’s eyes—deep into each other’s souls. I brush her hair back off her face tenderly with my fingers and she closes her eyes, leaning into my touch. “My Dee,” I say reverently, in a quiet voice to show her how deeply I feel, and give her a gentle, passionate kiss. A kiss that’s a promise, a vow, of eternal love. “I love you.”

“My E,” I whisper to him. “I love you so much.” I breathe him in through the tears that are suddenly and quietly rolling down my face. “I can’t believe you’re really here, really in my arms; really inside of me.” I return his passionate kiss, pull back, and say, “We made it, E. We survived the un-survivable and this is where we’re meant to be.”

We wipe each other’s tears and touch our foreheads together. Though I’m holding my weight on my elbows, we’re still one, still connected in every possible way; mind, heart, body, and soul. We did make it. We did survive, and we did it together. “My Dee.” I kiss her passionately and coo words of love. “I’m whole.”

My tears keep flowing. I’m overwhelmed by the wholeness I also feel. I’m really lying here in E’s arms. We’re connected in every way. One heart, one body, one mind, and one soul. “We’re together, E. We’re really together.” I kiss him with all the love I feel in my heart. “We’re home, E,” I say and then add, “move in with me!” The thought slips out of my mouth unbidden but it feels so right and I go with it. “Right now, E. Let’s go next door and get your things!”

Dee feels like heaven and I can’t stop the smile that overtakes my face, as I say, “Marry me.”

I gasp, exhale a sob and with a smile that matches his, I say the one word that makes my soul shine. “YES!”

Life is so very short, we both know it, we’ve both lived it. We’re deeply in love and have been for a very long time. We’re soulmates. We complete each other. The fact that fate had brought us together in not one way but two. The fact that we could fall in love with each other as two completely separate couples, never knowing the other existed. The fact that we are now joined as one. E and I are each other’s home and will be…forever.

We spend the entire night in each other’s arms. Talking, exploring, tasting, touching, worshipping, and making love. We learn all the things about each other that we never knew. Things we couldn’t talk about as Dee and E and things we didn’t want to talk about as Dani and Ean. The last puzzle piece has been snapped into place. I’m with Dee and my soul is finally at peace.

We connect the dots and tie both couples together as one. We discover exactly how much we have in common, but the biggest thing I discover is that I knew her husband, Scott. We went to the same high school, we were friends and teammates. He knew my parents and we shared the same friends. Sadly, we lost touch when he went away to college. I never knew he died and I never connected her last name to his.

When I find out he was friends with Scott, I’m shocked but not surprised. It’s yet another stunningly coincidental thing we share. It’s unbelievable how many things we have in common. When we texted as Dee and E, we discovered we had so much in common. We shared the same values and the same thoughts. Our personalities have always been so similar that we were able to open up and truly be ourselves. We never shared facts about ourselves but what we shared was so much deeper, we shared our souls. And as Dani and Ian our conversations always flowed like a fine wine. We always shared a deep connection and even though we never revealed our shared history, we opened up in the ways that count. The one thing we had in common, as both couples, was laughter, we were always laughing. It’s always been so…easy.

Dee will always have a piece of Scott in her heart and I rest easier knowing he’s up there taking care of Alyssa, the baby, and Alex. We talk about our future and Dee cries when I tell her that I want to legally change both her and Chloe’s name to be a combination of both Scott’s last name and mine separated by a hyphen. I want to honor Scott’s life and I deeply feel combining our names is the best way, aside from making sure his memory is kept alive, that I can do that.

When E tells me that he wants to keep Scott’s last name and add it to his, and his reasons for doing so, I become swallowed up by so many emotions I’m unable to answer him around the lump in my throat. And when he tells me he wants to adopt Chloe, I lose it. She’s going to have a dad again.

We decide on a Christmas wedding; we don’t want to waste any more time. We also decide on setting up a gathering with our families and friends to surprise them with our story and the news of our engagement.

The more we plan, the more excited I get. I can tell he feels the same way. Joy reverberates from his entire being as he tells me he wants to take me to Tiffany’s in Beverly Hills later today to buy a ring and then to brunch at the Polo Lounge to celebrate. Later today? Confused, I look towards the window and see the early morning sun peeking through the dream catchers I have hanging in front of my windows. Yes, we both bought ourselves the same gifts.

I feel like no time has passed but clearly it has because the sun’s already started to rise. I snuggle deep in his strong arms and secure embrace, surrounded by his gorgeous, woodsy scent and drift off into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I feel safe, I feel loved and knowing that when I wake up, I’ll still be in his arms…I feel joy.

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL FALL EVENING and our friends and families are all gathered together for a barbecue at Dee’s house. At least that’s what they think. I smile at what they’re really in for. All our friends know how close Dani and I are but they have no idea about the rest of our story and they’re going to be completely blown away. I can’t wait.

We told our families our story and about our engagement last week, and to say they were surprised was an understatement. In the end, they were delighted with the way things turned out and are here tonight, with the promise of keeping quiet, to see everybody’s reaction.

My parents were friends with Scott’s parents and they too lost contact with one another. They never made the connection because they respected our wishes and never read any of the articles written about the accident. They also didn’t attend the trial because it didn’t get that far. The bastard admitted his guilt and accepted his fate. Dee and I spent a lot of time texting about him. I wanted him to be killed, like he killed my family, but Dee, in her infinite wisdom, showed me the power of forgiveness. You’ll never forget, but you need to forgive. And that forgiveness has helped me heal.

Lysee and Justin are here, as a couple. They’ve been inseparable since they met that night at Hennessey’s. Lysee brought Tonya and Maurice from The Spot and Justin brought his mother, Mary, who came with her longtime boyfriend, Charles Ericson.

Charles became a huge part of Justin’s and Mary’s lives after the death of Justin’s father. Even though it was clearly a case of self-defense, Charles made it his mission to protect them and never stopped. He took Justin under his wing and he and Mary fell in love.

Justin inherited his father’s share of the firm, which Charles ran while he was in college. Justin graduated, on the dean’s list, with a double major in economics and political science, and a minor in digital communications. He’s always been incredibly driven and is brilliant. He spent his summers interning under Charles, attended USC Law, and the minute he passed the bar, he literally drove across town to assume his role as the Sinclair at Sinclair and Ericson.

Chance is here with his college friend, Kyle, who met Josh when he came into Josh’s shop to get his car repaired after a small fender bender on the 405 freeway. Josh and Kyle hit it off immediately and are here as a couple.

Barbara, our grief counselor, is here with her wife, Corinne. And to say she’s thrilled is an understatement. She said she had a “feeling” and boy was she right. Dee and I had lunch with her and Corinne earlier this week to tell them our story. She’s the reason all this started in the first place and we didn’t want to blindside her. She deserves more than that. She deserves everything.

Barbara and Corinne, who also promised not to spill our secret, are currently in a corner, laughing with George Mitchell, the man who saved Josh’s life both figuratively and literally. We’ve gotten to know him through Josh. They’re exceptionally close and he’s come to several of the same events Dani and I have been at. I can see why he did what he did; he’s just that kind of person.

Jayden and his wife, Camille, are also talking with them. I’ve become very close to him over the years. Austin House is very important to me and I’m happy they could be here to share in my special day.

Dee’s friends Beth and Sandi came up from San Diego with their husbands, Michael and Adam, and their daughters, who Chloe was beyond thrilled to see. The girls are currently being watched at my house, no doubt having the time of their lives. Dee’s mother didn’t come but that’s a story for another day. I hate how sad Dee gets every time her mom lets her down. But, like I did through texts, I continue to comfort her with humor, friendship, and love.

Dee and I are standing by the fireplace in her living room. We asked everyone to come inside and when I see that everybody has their food and are settled down, I tap my bottle of beer to her wine glass to get their attention.

Clink, clink, clink.

Everyone stops talking to look up at us.

“Can I have everybody’s attention?”

Once the room is quiet, I continue. “I’d first like to thank all of you for coming here tonight. Dani and I have quite a story to share with you.” I stop and laugh because we’re about to blow their minds. “It’s actually more of a mind-fuck. But trust us, it has a very happing ending.”

I look at Dee and see she’s failing miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin. I casually nudge her and find I’m having an equally hard time hiding the exact same thing.

“One year ago, a very insightful woman forced Dani and me to communicate with one another.” I go on to explain what Barbara did and the rules of our relationship. “Our angel, Barbara,” I tip my drink in her direction and give her a wink, “put her career on the line to help two shattered souls. I never planned on texting Dani but with all hope and the will to live gone, I reached out to her and it was the best thing I could ever have done.” I then start talking about our early texts and how we started saving each other. Reliving this brings up a lot of sad memories and I bring Dee in close to absorb some of her strength.

“We cried, grieved, and raged. We listened to each other, comforted each other, and rescued each other at the same time.” I continue after nods of understanding. “I forgot how to smile, I forgot how to live, and even bigger than that, I forgot me. Dani, as Dee, showed me how to laugh again through her words, taught me how to live through her wisdom, and allowed me to find myself again through her spirit and strength.”

I turn to Dee, catching the tears falling down her beautiful face with my thumb, and give her a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Do you think you can take it from here?” I ask her softly, while looking into her teary, yet still beautiful eyes. She nods. I give her another gentle kiss, put my arm around her, and wait for her to continue our story.

“Phew!” Dee exhales a shuddered breath and fans herself with her free hand before she continues. “Ean, as E, was the only person who truly knew what I was going through and the same thing applied to him. Like he said, we cried, commiserated, screamed, and grieved. Then we started comparing all the things that were being said to us out of pity and for the first time in what felt like forever, we smiled. Very soon thereafter we became each other’s lifeline, best friend, and other half.”

I take over explaining what we achieved, how we achieved it, and how we would never have survived any of it without each other. But, with one another, we not only survived, we thrived.

She gently wipes the tears that are now falling down my face with her delicate finger sharing the pain we both felt. We hear sniffles around the room and Dee continues through her tears. “Our relationship kept growing. We laughed, joked, and debated about which one of us was the wiser.” I point the neck of my bottle to myself and she rolls her eyes and groans, which gets a watery chuckle out of everyone.

“Seriously?!” she says, rolling her eyes again. I shrug one shoulder as if to say, “Well yeah,” and she continues. “We covered all our favorites. Everything from movies to books to colors to food and so much more.”

At this point, Dee and I turn to one another, laughing and sharing inside jokes. When we stop, I look up and see a room full of confused smiles. Dee notices it too and continues. “This relationship right here…” she points her wine glass back and forth between us, “…this has been our relationship for the past year, as Dee and E. And for the past six months…” she points her wine glass back and forth between us once again, “…this has been our relationship as Dani and Ean.” She looks at me and smiles. “Our friendship turned to love somewhere along the line, and that love made us stronger in the end.”

“Before Dani left for San Diego, we texted a lot,” I say, continuing our story. “At that point in our lives, change was scary for both of us but things were too difficult for her here and we knew a change of scenery would do both her and Chloe a world of good.”

“We also both agreed on when and why I came home,” Dee adds and then continues with our story. “Around the six-month mark, Ean and I met. But when we met, we didn’t know we were meeting the person we were texting and we didn’t meet under good circumstances. As most of you know, I hit Po with my car.” Dee shakes her head at the memory, looks up to the sky to stop her impending tears, lets out another shuddered breath, and tells everybody about that day. “That was really hard. It hit too close to home, for both of us.”

She pauses and I squeeze her shoulder in a silent show of support and add, “Dani as Dee didn’t know I had a dog and I, as E, didn’t know she had a cat. You have to remember, we never shared any personal details so I also never knew what kind of car she drove, where she lived, or that she bought a new car the same day she hit Po.

“Two weeks after Po was hit, I was on the beach with him, throwing around a ball when he, once again turned and bolted,” I say, continuing this part of our story. “I chased him to find he had stopped and was madly licking the face of this amazingly beautiful woman who was crouched down by the ocean petting him.”

I smile, remembering the day I saw her on the beach playing with a very happy Po. “I still think he has a crush on you,” I tell her in a whispered voice and then I add, “I do too.” Because I really do!

I go on to tell them about how I acted the day of the accident and how I quickly apologized for my god-awful behavior. I share how easy the conversation was, how I felt like I’d known her forever even though we’d just met and how, after I said my goodbyes, I noticed that she was following us, heading home too. “Turned out, Dani was my next-door neighbor. Living next door to one another was the very first of the many connections that Dani and I share.”

On that note, Dee and I stop our story to give everyone a chance to use the bathroom and refill their drinks. Everybody has questions but we make them wait because we have so much more to reveal.

IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE we met and it still feels like a dream; an amazingly beautiful dream. I can’t believe I was so afraid to meet him because we’re so much stronger together than we were alone. Being with E is as easy as breathing while, at the same time, so exhilarating that I’m left breathless. I’m still completely amazed we never connected the dots. Looking back, some things were so obvious I have to wonder where our heads were. But none of that matters. E and I were meant to be together, of that I’m absolutely sure. We cherish what we have and we never plan on being apart, ever again.

The way E and I are telling our story is exactly the way we are with one another. The way we always have been and the way we always will be. We complete each other’s thoughts, finish each other’s sentences and feed off each other’s energy. We are one, in every way; a strong river that ebbs and flows in all the right places.

Our friends ask plenty of questions and many laughs are shared. When everyone is once again settled, we continue our story.

“We never met or tried to communicate in any form other than text message because we were both too afraid of breaking our emotional connection,” I tell our friends and then go on to talk about the fairs that we went to together—through texts, and how it was our compromise to be together without actually meeting. We tell everybody about our antics at the fair and when we lapse into our “hippie talk,” everybody laughs.

“I needed to breathe the same air she was breathing,” E tells our friends and puts his arm around me.

I start to feel somber when we talk about clearing out our houses and visiting the cemetery. As always, E senses my sorrow and takes over.

“After one year, I insisted Dee and I physically meet. Our emotional connection was stronger than ever and even though we were both still scared shitless, the need to meet was greater.” He goes on to tell them how the hostess asked if she could help us and how, when we answered, we both instantly knew.

I stop E with a kiss. He smiles and winks; knowing exactly what I’m thinking and continues.

“When we finally met, we stayed up all night talking and started connecting the dots. We learned a lot about each other, all the things that we couldn’t talk about as Dee and E and all the things we didn’t want to talk about as Dani and Ean. But the single biggest thing I discovered that night was that her husband was Scott Adams.” I see the exact minute it clicks for Justin and Chance. Justin becomes pale and Chance completely stops breathing. It was the exact same reaction his parents, sister, and Beverly and Rodger had when we told them our story at brunch last weekend.

“Scott had been a good friend and teammate of mine in high school.” He goes on, telling this part to our friends who don’t know their connection. “Sadly, we lost touch after he moved to San Diego for college and I’m both sad and embarrassed to say I never knew he died.”

E turns to me, kisses my tear-streaked face, and whispers, “I’m so sorry about that, babe.” He’s already apologized but it isn’t necessary or even wanted. He’s been there for me in more ways than he could ever imagine.

Our friends, once again, bombard us with questions, talking about how crazy and unfathomable this whole story is. E and I still question each other as to how we didn’t see it, picking apart both relationships in search of clues. When E says, “Talk shows would have a field day with this one,” everybody laughs.

I turn to everyone and continue. “E and I never broke Barbara’s rule. We said things to one another when we texted but never gave away any personal details. Ean and I talked all the time, but never about anything personal. It seemed like each time we got close to a touchy subject, we were either interrupted or one of us turned the conversation in a different direction.” I stop and take a sip of my wine to process all this insanity and continue. “We can see everything now, but then? We didn’t have a single clue.”

E and I take turns talking about all our missed connections, and there were many. “Ean and I became friends, then best friends. We did a lot of things together but whenever he paid with a credit card, or showed his driver’s license, I never looked. And the only times during the months I knew him, that his name was actually written on paper, it was written by me and I used an ‘I’ instead of an ‘E.’ And when I entered him into my contact list, I spelled it I-A-N.” The normal way to spell it, but I keep that part to myself.

I start rambling about the insanity of the whole situation, explaining Heather’s reasoning for not spelling his name in the traditional way. I tell our friends how that was the most obvious connection and not having that tidbit of information made connecting the dots virtually impossible. When I finish with, “And thank you for that, Heather!” and she responds with, “You’re welcome, sweetheart!” everybody, once again, cracks up.

Before I can continue, E cuts in with a protest of his own. He tells everybody about how he gave the first letter of my first name a “nickname” and began calling me Dee. How over time, that became my name to him. “It’s because of this,” he tells everyone, “that I didn’t make the connection.” I remember the day he did that. I loved it then but I love it even more now that I know him. Everybody laughs! E’s really grasping at straws and we all know it. Nobody says a word…yet. He’s going to be ribbed like nobody’s business and I can’t wait!

I then continue. “Ean and I hung out together all the time, much of that time, here in my house. But I didn’t have any pictures of Scott displayed on my walls. It was just too painful.” I look across the room and see Scott’s beautiful face smiling back at me. It doesn’t cripple me to see him anymore. Since we’ve met, E’s encouraged me to bring all his pictures back out saying, “We need to honor his memory.” I did the same for him. I had never been in his house and when I finally was inside, I saw his walls were also bare, so when he moved in with me, we also hung pictures of Alyssa and Alex. I notice him glance at their picture and squeeze his hand in a show of support. I also notice Justin and Chance looking at Scott’s picture and wonder how they didn’t notice it earlier in the evening.

I then go on to explain all of this, sharing how E would have immediately recognized him and how it was things like that, that made connecting the dots virtually impossible. After taking a sip of wine, I continue. “I can’t tell you why we never discussed these significant things. We can’t even figure it out. Maybe it was Barbara’s rule or maybe we just weren’t ready. That and the fact that we had the special cell phones for Dee and E helped keep the mystery going. I truly believe we were never meant to make that connection before it was time.”

E holds me tightly to his side and continues. “My friendship with Dani turned to love. It was never the kind of love I felt for Dee but it was love just the same. Dani and I never crossed the line of being anything other than really close friends but the feelings I had for her and Chloe were very strong, nonetheless.” We stop talking to kiss each other and he says, directly to me, “I have always loved you.” His declaration takes my breath away and I lean in to kiss him.

After a long embrace, he takes my wine glass and sets our drinks down. Keeping me close to his side, he looks to all the tear-stained faces of our friends and families and says, “So that brings us to where we are today.”

With a quick kiss, a smile, and a wink, he blurts out, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

He looks at me and reverently whispers, “I’m marrying my Dee!”

“And I’m marrying my E!” I say, radiating all the love and joy we both feel.

We hear a collective gasp.

E takes my bandaged hand in his and starts unwrapping it to show the ring. We told everybody I sprained my wrist to hide it. He kisses my hand over my ring, grabs our drinks and continues.

“We got engaged that very night!” he says to everyone but his eyes are locked on mine. He then turns to the group. “Looking at it from an outsider’s point of view it may seem fast, but Dee and E have known and loved each other for over a year and during that year, we texted constantly, sometimes several times during the day and usually for hours on end. And Dani and Ean have known and loved each other for over six months. We saw each other all the time and were always doing things together. We also talked on the phone when we weren’t physically together. Although we knew each other separately, we individually formed immensely strong connections, and together have forged an unbreakable bond. Dani and I also know how short life is and how love can be taken away in the blink of an eye.” He kisses me again and goes on.

“I’ve asked Dani if I could legally adopt Chloe and she agreed. Chloe will always know Scott’s her father. We’re going to be calling him Daddy and I’ll be called Dad. I also told her I want both her and Chloe to keep Scott’s last name before mine, separated by a hyphen. I want to honor him, and Dani has agreed to that too. Both Chloe and Dani will have the last name Adams-Montgomery.”

We gently wipe away each other’s tears, both extremely overwhelmed from having told our story. We spend the next few minutes answering some of the many questions our friends throw at us, and then with our story behind us, we hold up our glasses.

“TO FATE!” we cheer.

“TO FATE!” everyone follows and, at that, we all toast.

The night turned out beautifully. Everyone was shocked and surprised, but truly happy for us. After the last person leaves, E takes me in his arms and tells me how much he loves me. He then gently leads me into our bedroom to show me just how much.

“GRAB YOUR END,” I GRUNT.

“Wrong angle!” Justin complains.

“Justin, man, what good are you?”

“Dude! If you had any strength, I wouldn’t have to carry the whole damn thing.”

“You wanna see strength?” I grab my crotch to show him what real strength is.

“It’s true!” Dee says, laughing as she comes up to my side, wrapping her arms around me while giving me a loving kiss. We see each other daily but we still can’t stand to be apart and when we are together, we can’t stand to not be touching each other.

“It’s magical. Steel can’t even compare,” she brags proudly and I smile. That’s my girl!

“Eeew, Dani!” Justin protests, with what sounds like a combination of a groan and a whine. “TMI! I don’t want to know about Ean’s junk.” We both laugh.

Dee and I are moving into a new rental in Manhattan Beach, not far from my old house while we’re building our new home. I bought the house I was renting and the plans for the rebuild are almost ready to be submitted to the city for approval so we can start the building process. We’re tearing down both houses and combining the plots of land. We plan on having more kids and want more rooms. We drew up all the plans together; every aspect was collaborative. I’d say we fought through it but our tastes have always been so similar and we think so much alike that it was a no-brainer.

We also agreed to keep calling each other Dee and E. It’s who we are to one another, our special name, our term of endearment. I’m extremely possessive and only want Dee and I using our special names. Our friends understood and I was very happy when they agreed not to use it.

“Chance, grab my end of the sofa, will ya?” I shout. “I have to go upstairs and show my girl here what I have hidden under the duvet on our bed.” I grab my crotch again for emphasis.

Justin moans yet again and Chance shouts, “I call bullshit!”

All our friends are at our new home helping us get situated. Nobody could really wrap their heads around our story. Hell, we can’t even wrap our heads around it let alone expect anybody else to. We’re still being asked a million questions and it’s been weeks since the engagement party.

We’ve also reconnected with a bunch of our old friends, some old clients we both knew well, and I’ve reconnected with many of my old neighbors. It was difficult moving back to this area, but with Dee by my side, literally, I’m okay. Everyone understood, joy replaced pity; they were all too happy to have us back in their lives. All our neighbors have come out with food, making it an unofficial block party. That’s how the people down here roll. It’s what makes this area so special.

“Big Mike’s for everyone!” I announce.

Dee and I didn’t go upstairs even though I really wanted to. We drove down the street instead, to our favorite sandwich shop, Big Mike’s Philly Steaks and Subs. The owners are originally from Philadelphia and it’s seriously the best cheesesteak you can find west of the Mississippi.

After we finish getting everything moved in and set up, we hang out on our patio with all our friends, relaxing, drinking, and laughing about everything and nothing while the sun slowly leaves the day behind and the moon lights up the night’s sky. Having lost this, I appreciate and cherish every minute of this second chance.

Once everyone has left and Chloe is asleep, Dee and I head into the family room to just…be.

“Wine?” she asks.

“Absolutely, I think we deserve it.”

“You’re not kidding,” she replies, handing me my drink and cuddling next to me on the sofa.

I put an arm around her and bring her in close to my body. I lift my wine glass and look at her with all the love we both share.

“To our love, to our future, to us…Dee and E, forever,” I toast.

Dee repeats my toast and we clink glasses before we savor the Far Niente cabernet I bought for our first night in our new home. It’s our favorite wine, full bodied, rich in flavor with a hint of oak, so I knew it’d be the perfect thing to celebrate the start of this next chapter in our journey.

We drink, talk, plan, cuddle, and kiss, living in the moment and reveling in each other’s company. I never thought I’d be this happy again.

“What do you think about the business idea?” she asks, her eyes shining with determination.

We’ve been going back and forth about the idea of starting our own design business. On paper it’s the perfect fit but…

I turn toward her to look her in the eye. “You really want to do this?”

She mirrors my position and places her hand on the back of my neck. “Yeah, we need to do this and you know it.”

I lovingly squeeze her thigh and sigh thinking about the many, many times she’s said those exact words to me. When I tell her she’s pushing, she tells me I’m stalling. Some things will never change. Even though I’m in a different place in my life, I’m still hesitant about making waves.

“I do, it’s just such a big jump though.”

She lovingly massages the back of my neck, instantly relaxing me; Dee always knows what I need and I melt into her touch.

“Not really,” she answers. “People have been asking us if we’re going to get back into it again, especially the Endicotts. You saw what they did just so we could take over their project.” When Jonathan and Tracey heard our story and that we were designing again, they stopped all work to hire us. It turns out, they knew of Dani and Scott’s work and had planned on contacting them to design their landscape before the accident. “They’ve been working off your original blueprints so taking over the project will be really easy.”

I take a sip of my wine and nod in agreement. “I know. I still think what they did was insane. The amount of money they’re spending just to have our input is crazy, but who are we to complain.”

“I know, right?” She laughs before taking a sip of her wine, still lovingly caressing the back of my neck. My Dee, always showing her strength and support. “Also, with the house we’re building, it makes sense.” I didn’t think about that but as usual, she’s right.

We’re building a very traditional Cape Cod style house, with gray siding, white trim, dormer windows, and a portico entry with pillars on each side of the front door. We’re using an open floor plan and incorporating many traditional elements such as wainscoting and hardwood floors throughout the entire space. The kitchen will be separated from the great room by a breakfast bar and the house will have open beam ceilings and a large window wall that opens to the backyard. We’re keeping everything warm and casual with a “homey” feel where everyone can come and hang out.

“I agree. Let’s do this!” I say, leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss starts off soft but quickly escalates and before she knows it, I’m carrying my laughing Dee upstairs over my shoulder.

With our future planned and our love firmly in place, she happily goes along for the ride.

“SIT STILL. I STILL NEED to finish your makeup.”

“I don’t want to sit still,” I whine. “I want to get outside already and marry E.”

“Well, I’d be done by now if your eyes didn’t look like a raccoon’s,” Lysee chides.

“You know I slept like shit last night,” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest like a petulant twelve-year-old girl.

“You’d think after the amount of alcohol we drank, you’d have passed out.”

Last night we had my version of the “perfect bachelorette party.” The girls are all staying with me at Heather’s house and Beverly, Mary, and Tonya joined in on our celebration. We hung out, made fruity drinks, gossiped, watched “chick flicks” on Netflix, and ate mounds of junk food. Like I said, perfect… The rest of the night, not so much. It was my first night since I physically met E that we didn’t sleep together and I hated it. Waking up next to him every morning is a gift I never take for granted and I never want to wake up without him again. Sandi chose to share a room with Beth and I bunked with Lysee. She kept the bed warm but she isn’t E. I chuckle to myself when I remember how frustrated she got and smile at what she did.

“Okay,” she huffed. “You move one more time and I’m going to have to beat your ass.”

“I can’t sleep,” I complained.

Lysee looked at me and raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “Gee, Dani, I would never have guessed.”

“Okay, Your Highness of Sarcasm.”

Lysee gave me one more of her looks and left the room. When I shouted I was just kidding, I heard the trail of her laughter as she descended the back stairs. I decided to follow her but when I moved to get out of the bed, she flounced back into the room with a quart of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and two huge spoons. I smiled and flipped on the television to HGTV and we settled into an old episode of House Hunters. But when she said, “The rehearsal dinner was something, wasn’t it?” TV time was quickly abandoned.

Since the wedding is in Heather and Jerry’s backyard, we had the rehearsal dinner here before my bachelorette party. Beverly brought over old photo albums of Scott, and Heather brought out the ones from E’s high school days, the ones with Scott in them. I got to see pictures of Scott I had never seen before and while my heart was filled with pain, the chains that bound it were gone and I was actually able to smile. I also got to see pictures of Alyssa and Alex, along with sonograms of the baby. We laughed through all the funny stories while crying at the fact they’re no longer here. I’ll never stop loving Scott and I’ll always miss him but I’ve found strength I never knew I had, and I found E.

“Nope,” I answer with a smile because she finally put the tube of lipstick down and backed away. “And now…”

“I know,” she sighs. “You’re going to marry your E.” She says the last part with her voice an octave higher, while pretending to be me. But there’s nothing that can wipe the smile off my face because I am, indeed, going to marry my E.

I grew up in a Mediterranean-style home my parents built from the ground up and filled with many personal touches. It’s elegant yet comfortable and I’ve used that aesthetic in everything I design.

In the beach areas, since property is so tight, many homeowners build either down, adding extra space, or create a rooftop space on top of their home. My parents added a basement and converted it into a “man cave” after my sister and I moved out. This is where I currently am, hanging out with my father, Rodger, Charles, Justin, Chance, Josh, and Kyle watching sports, shooting the shit, and drinking copious amounts of whisky. While it’s been fun and relaxing, I’m more than ready to head outside and marry my Dee. It’s for that reason I’m the first one out of the room when we finally receive our orders to report to the backyard where the wedding is being held.

The girls have taken over the top floor and have all been holed up there since yesterday. Last night was the first night since I physically met Dee that we’ve been apart. I hated every single minute of it and it will be the last night we ever sleep apart! I slept like shit!

The entire backyard has been decorated with white Christmas lights. My mom keeps lights up all year round to give the yard a romantic feel but has put in even more in honor of the occasion. Chairs and an aisle flanked by flowers have been set up to greet our guests and the arbor is covered with flowers and other Christmas decorations.

The first Christmas after the accident was spent running as far away from my reality as possible. Justin and I escaped to New York to spend it with his cousin Shannon. Now I look at this Christmas in awe. It’s mind-blowing to me how much things can change within the course of a year. The love we have for Scott, Alyssa, Alex, and the baby will never die and they’re never far from our thoughts. The day may carry a hint of melancholy but we all know they’re together, safe and pain free. We rest better at night knowing that.

My family hosted a rehearsal dinner last night which only included our family and the wedding party. Beverly and my mom brought out old photo albums. Dee got to see pictures of Scott she had never seen before along with pictures of Alyssa, Alex and sonograms of the baby. As I looked at pictures of my family, I felt my world begin to darken. But Dee immediately became my light. She was by my side in a flash, showing her strength and love as she did so many times this past year. In her embrace, I knew I’d always be okay. With that, I took a second look at the pictures and was actually able to appreciate and cherish all those special times.

Dee also announced that we’ll be displaying many pictures of them as well as pictures of Scott throughout our new home. I completely agree with her. It’s a beautiful way to honor their memory.

We laughed, we cried, and we reminisced. Both Dee and I are grateful for our past; we were each blessed with amazing love which ended far too soon. It was a long, difficult and extremely painful journey to survive that loss, but everything we’ve been through brought us to where we are today and we’re now ready to head into our future.

Sunset is my favorite time of the day and from our west-facing backyard, we’re granted a clear view of the setting sun as it descends into the Pacific Ocean. I love watching the sky as it comes alive with color. Brushstrokes of pink, coral, and yellow mix seamlessly with wispy clouds and vapor trails which have gained a lavender hue as the lightness of the day fades into night.

Standing under the arbor, I look out over the people who mean the most to me in this world; people who make a difference in my life. Everyone is dressed in formalwear. We were originally going to keep it informal but being that Christmas is right around the corner, and that this is a huge moment in all our lives, Dee and I decided to go all out and the scene is one to behold.

As the first chords of Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years” starts playing, I feel my heart begin to pound, and I have to blink to stop the tears of elation that threaten to spill. They say that “Happiness is being married to your best friend.” Dee is that and so much more and my happiness shines at that level.

Chloe, our flower girl, is the first person I see along with Po, the ring bearer, and both are dressed for the occasion. The sight makes me smile and I instantly relax. All my friends soon follow, and then I see her, my Dee. She’s radiant. My heart stops and starts again and I know in that instant I’m right where I’m supposed to be. My heart’s right where it’s supposed to be.

I don’t know how I got so lucky in love, not once but twice, but I’m embracing it with all that I am and I’m never letting it go.

I’M WALKING BETWEEN RODGER AND Beverly who are walking me only halfway down the aisle. E and I decided he will meet us there and walk me the rest of the way to the altar, as a symbol of us walking towards our future, together. He’s breathtaking. A sense of calm takes over and I can breathe; I’m complete.

We were so worried we could’ve ruined everything if we ever met. That crippling fear kept us apart for far too long, but meeting one another only strengthened the bond we already shared. We lock eyes and, as always, the world fades away. It’s just us. My heart is full, my soul whole, my puzzle finished. Tragedy became triumph. Despair, misery, and unending pain became hope, happiness, and the promise of a better tomorrow. Our nightmare became our dream. And it’s for those reasons I embrace the tears that have begun silently falling down both our cheeks.

The tears gently falling down E’s cheeks mirror mine and say more than words ever could. They speak of pain, tragedy, and suffering. They talk about hope, friendship, and love, and they echo the truth that in our world of loss and despair, something amazing was able to grow. Our eyes meet and nothing else exists. It’s just the two of us and I’m overcome with a happiness I thought was forever gone.

Dee looks exquisite. Her hair is casually tied at the back of her neck, with loose strands framing her beautiful face. The dress she’s wearing is stunning. It’s elegant and strong while still being soft and beautiful. Just like my Dee.

E is stunning. He cut his hair but left his scruff because he knows how much I love it. He’s wearing a black tuxedo that fits his body like a second skin but the most beautiful thing he’s wearing is his smile because his eyes are smiling. My heart soars every time he smiles. I saw the sadness in them disappear the day we physically met, and I cheer because today I can see that sadness is now, forever gone. His soul is alive and that means more to me than anything else in this world.

Once I’m by her side, I whisper in her ear words only she can hear. “Dee…you look…” I trail off, my words choked back by emotion. But I know with Dee, I don’t need to finish.

E’s beautiful whispered words mirror what I’m feeling and even though he didn’t finish his thought, I know he’s talking about so much more than how we look. “E…” is all that I am able to whisper back to the breath of my existence.

“Family and friends,” Father Henderson says to the group. “We are here to complete the circle of life that fate has brought together.”

He looks at us, smiles, and continues. “Two people whose lives were shattered have been brought together in so many ways that my faith has been strengthened through their story, their hope and their love. Dani and Ean are a symbol of the power of God and the mysterious ways in which He works. I am in awe of their story, as I’m sure many of you are.”

No truer words have ever been spoken. Life turned our world upside down, but the love we share, righted it. Dee is my miracle, my destiny, and I am hers.

The truth in Father Henderson’s words ring with an unparalleled clarity. Tragedy tore our lives apart but our love put it back together. E is my soul and my salvation as I am his.

“Dani and Ean have written their own vows. They wrote both the first and the last part together like they write every part of their lives, together. They continue their vows individually, showing all of us the love and devotion they have for each other, showing us all the real meaning of true love.”

“Dani, Dee…” I start, looking deeply into her beautiful soul, a soul that has captivated me from the very beginning.

“Today I am marrying the both of you. Though you both came into my life at different times and in very different ways, you came into my life when I needed you the most.

“Dani, six months ago I was in dire need of a friend and when I wasn’t looking, you ran into my life, literally. I had lost myself, you found me. I had isolated myself, you brought me out into the light. You turned my anger into happiness and my hate into love. You filled my empty heart and you continue to fill it every day that I am blessed to be with you. You and Chloe have put a brightness into my life that’s propelled me while making me feel calm, while making me smile. And Dee…

“My Dee. When I first texted you I was a shell of a person barely existing. I reached out to you as a lifeline and what I got was that and so much more. You became my friend. You made me smile when I thought it was impossible I’d ever smile again. You became my best friend. You made me laugh after I’d forgotten how. You became my love. You made my heart beat again after it was shattered beyond repair. And along the way, I fell in love with you. You showed me your beauty and your spirit. You gave me hope, strength, and support, but most importantly, through you, I was able to see a future once again and you did it all through text messages. You complete me. You are my life and I vow to spend the rest of my life being your best friend, your strongest supporter, your greatest partner and your biggest love with all that I am.

“I vow to you to be your home and the other half of your whole, as you are mine, the E to your Dee, forever.”

E leans into me and with a gentle kiss he captures the tears that have fallen from hearing his beautiful words. With love and happiness, I pull back and recite my vows.

“Ean, E…” We look at each other with so much love that I melt, while my heart soars.

“Today I am marrying the both of you. Though you both came into my life at different times and in very different ways, you came into my life when I needed you the most.

“Ean, the first time I looked into your eyes, I sensed your soul and it left me breathless. I immediately knew we were destined to meet and were always meant to be. The day I saw you on the beach I sensed your heart and my heart came back to life. I immediately knew we were destined to be together and share one life. And the day we physically met, I saw you and immediately knew I was where I belong. I was lost, hanging on by a fraying thread, barely surviving day to day. Without knowing that, you put me back together. You protected me with your strong arms, guided me with your sure hands, and loved me with your amazing heart. You turned that fraying thread into a band of steel so strong it became unbreakable. You are my dearest friend my most trusted confidant and my truest advisor. You are my heart and my life. And E…

“My E, you are my everything. I can breathe when you’re by my side, you are my air. I can live when you’re by my side, you are my life. You took my breath away with the very first word you ever graced me with and you’ve been taking my breath away every day since, I am truly blessed. You came into my life when I needed you the most. You made me smile when I couldn’t and laugh when I thought it impossible. You showed me how to live again, taught me how to trust again and allowed me to hope when all hope was lost, and you did it all through text messages. You are my strength, my beacon, my humor, my wisdom, my guide and my love. I vow to spend the rest of my life being your light, your laughter and your greatest love with all that I am.

“I vow to you to be your home and the other half of your whole, as you are mine, the Dee to your E, forever.”

I lean in to kiss Dee again because I just can’t not. Her words ring true. That’s what we are to one another.

He leans in to kiss me with all that he is and I kiss him with all that I am. Today our souls spoke to each other echoing what we truly are to one another.

Everybody is crying. Even the priest has tears in his eyes.

“I have nothing to add,” Father Henderson chokes out on a laugh that’s joined in chorus by everybody in attendance. We exchange rings and then he says the words I’ve been waiting to hear.

“So by the power vested to me by God and the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ean, you may now kiss your bride.”

E takes me in his arms and gives me a passionate yet tender kiss. I taste his tears, his love, his promises, and, best of all, I taste him.

As I take my love in my arms, I barely hear the cheers of celebration. The world has, once again, faded away. It’s just the two of us and as I kiss her, I taste the salt of her tears, the love of her heart, and everything that is Dee.

E and I usher in the reception with our first dance as husband and wife. We chose Meghan Trainor and John Legend’s “Like I’m Gonna Lose You” because that’s exactly how we love each other. We embrace our love with a passion and a fierceness that’s unparalleled. We appreciate and cherish what we have and we never take a second of it for granted. Halfway through the song, we bring in our closest friends and our families. The words spoken in this song ring true. Life is so incredibly precious and none of us are promised a tomorrow. Our hearts are full and our tears freely flow. And as the song comes to an end, with Chloe now tucked lovingly in our embrace, we smile because this is what life’s truly about.

Luke takes over and The Black Eyed Peas let us all know “tonight’s gonna be a good night.” All our guests crowd the makeshift dance floor shouting the lyrics out at the top of our lungs and we spend the rest of the reception celebrating the night away.

After the reception, my bride and I head down to the Ritz Carlton in Marina Del Rey to celebrate our first night as husband and wife. I still can’t believe she’s really mine and I plan on spending the entire night showing her exactly how much I cherish her. Tomorrow we’re heading to Kaanapali Beach in Maui to stay at the Hyatt Residence Club for a mini-honeymoon. I adore Maui and I know Dee will love it too.

I’m so excited to be alone with E and to begin the next chapter of our lives. Neither of us has taken a vacation in a very long time and this mini-honeymoon is well earned and very needed. We’re going on a real honeymoon with Chloe after we get back. We’ll be back in time to celebrate Christmas with our families and then we’re leaving the next day. Her birthday is right after Christmas and we’re taking her on a Disney cruise to the Caribbean to celebrate.

All in all, life is really great.

THE WEDDING WAS AMAZING! I still get goose bumps thinking about it. It was beautiful and personal, filled with love and laughter, smiles and tears. We celebrated the love we have while honoring the love we lost.

We walked down the aisle to Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years” because, right from the start, we both felt like we’d known each other forever. We also broke from tradition. Instead of throwing the bouquet and garter belt, we gifted them to Lysee and Justin. Aside from them being our best friends, they’re deeply in love and clearly the next to get married.

I also still can’t get over the cake. We got it from Hansen’s Cakes in Beverly Hills, a legacy that goes back seven generations. Their cakes are legendary! Ours was a two-tiered contemporary style marble cake with chocolate chip filling. E’s favorite and I have to admit, pretty damn good. E and I went there for a cake tasting, which was completely unnecessary since he’s eaten their cakes numerous amounts of times and I trust him completely, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “We have to sample the cakes!” he told me. “I don’t care if I know what they taste like. Sampling them is the best part!”

We made a day of it, buying our wedding bands at Tiffany and Co. We got my engagement ring there the day after we met, and chose to go back so my wedding band would match. I love my rings but adore the ring we chose for E. It’s a platinum ring that’s both architectural and classic, and suits him perfectly; elegant, strong and sure.

After we got our rings we wandered around Rodeo Drive, window shopping at all the exclusive stores before E dragged me into Agent Provocateur. He took one look at the window and insisted we go in, pulling my arm while saying, “We need to get some of this!” I giggled and happily followed him in because I knew what would happen once he saw me wearing the lingerie we bought.

Afterwards, we had lunch at Nate and Al’s, a classic delicatessen, that’s been around since 1945 and similar to ones you’d normally find in New York. Many of the waitresses have all been around just as long and act that way, which is the beauty of it. The food is amazing. We shared a big bowl of chicken soup with matzo balls, a pastrami sandwich on rye, and an order of latkes with sour cream.

I didn’t invite my mother to the wedding. When I left San Diego, I left her in my rearview mirror. I made one final attempt and invited her to our engagement party. When she again was a no-show, I ended it for good. I have too much good going on in my life to allow her poison to taint it.

Our mini-honeymoon was beyond belief. I laugh at how little we actually got out of the room. We were in Maui but I couldn’t care less because we spent the entire time wrapped up in each other and that was infinitely better. We also ended up buying a timeshare so we’ll be going back.

We’re now on the Disney cruise and having an amazing time. Chloe insists on spending every free minute in the kids’ club. I don’t mind because it gives E and me free time to be together, but E isn’t happy about it and keeps pulling her out to play in the pool.

It’s been great watching her meet all the princesses and the other characters. They host an autograph session at a certain time each day. The schedule of who will be signing autographs on the main deck, and when they’ll be there is posted in each room. It’s meant to let the kids pick and choose which characters they want to see, but Chloe, like many other kids, wants to see all of them. She even wants to see the ones she doesn’t like, like the villains. The kids stand in line with autograph books in hand and both E and Chloe stand there bouncing with goofy grins on their faces while they wait. I swear, he really is just a big kid at heart.

I love the rooms! They’re more like hotel rooms rather than the standard rooms you’d normally see on a cruise ship. Ours has a balcony and we spend a lot of time on it drinking wine and being together.

One of my favorite features is the towels, which are folded into animal shapes and set on the bed at turndown. E likes the chocolates they leave on the pillows and shares them with Chloe; she’s turning into a chocoholic, just like her dad. I love how he is with her. He really is a great father.

I’m standing in the middle of the gift shop. I was here earlier with Chloe and saw the perfect thing to give E for his birthday this spring. We both have spring birthdays. He’s an Aries; his birthday is April 13. I’m a Taurus. My birthday is May 15. Our signs are compatible. I don’t usually follow the zodiac but I was curious and googled it. Turns out that when “Aries and Taurus come together in a love affair, the partnership is a natural union of the love represented by Taurus, and the passion represented by Aries. The relationship is all about balance and the Aries-Taurus relationship is known to be a great learning experience for both signs.” Exactly what our relationship is like.

I’m giving him a ceramic Mickey and Minnie, lounging on Adirondack chairs and sipping margaritas. Last year, celebrating our birthdays was interesting because we celebrated them through texts. We each got a cake and champagne, sang the Happy Birthday song, blew out the candles, and made a wish. We didn’t tell each other what we wished for but I’m sure we wished for the same thing, to physically meet.

Shortly after arriving home from our honeymoon, E and I open our own store in Manhattan Beach. We’re also centrally located between our rental, Chloe’s school, and the home we’re building. We named the store “Scott and Allie’s,” and E recreated the sets he made for me when he started building furniture again. We’re doing really well. So many people are happy to see us back. Our collaboration in work is as strong as our collaboration in life. Together, we’re a force to be reckoned with.

E and I have also been spending a lot of time helping others. We alternate between Covenant House where Lysee volunteers and Austin House, where Justin does that and so much more.

I’ve created an arts program at both shelters. I love art and believe it helps people heal. E created a sports program at both shelters and spends time with the kids running them around to burn off all the excessive energy and anger most of these kids carry with them on a regular basis. After E moved to Hermosa Beach, he started spending more time at Austin House and noticed the need for such a program. We split our time between the two. We’re always together. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

The biggest news of all is that I’m pregnant! We just found out. I’m nine weeks along and yesterday we just heard the heartbeats for the first time. That’s right, heartbeats. E and I are having twins!

“JUST ONE MORE PUSH,” E begs.

We’re in a labor and delivery room at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. I wasn’t due for another two weeks but started spotting this morning and having lived through tragedy, I’m extremely cautious. The minute I told E what I saw he yanked me out to the car, as gently as he could in his panicked state. And even though my safety was his main priority, I think he broke every speed law known to man and kept wishing he’d get pulled over so we could get a police escort.

He called my obstetrician, Dr. Liu, on the way.

“Don’t panic, she’ll be fine,” he told him, but E was still beside himself.

“Why is he always so fucking calm!” he bellowed.

Dr. Liu delivered Alex and was supposed to deliver Ean and Alyssa’s baby. He also sees Heather and Riley, so I’m very confident everything’s going to be okay. Dr. Liu is a great man and an amazing doctor. He’s always joking around and makes everyone feel confident and relaxed even when that’s the last thing you think you could feel.

Even though I am a sweaty mess, E keeps telling me how beautiful I am and how proud he is of me.

“Just one more push!” he tells me again.

“STOP SAYING THAT!” I shout, squeezing all the feeling out of his hand.

“Let’s meet Hope and Allie,” he says, gently toweling the sweat that’s dripping off my forehead.

This is my first vaginal birth. Chloe was delivered through an emergency cesarean section; she was breach and the cord was wrapped around her neck. Dr. Liu said I could have a VBAC if the conditions that were present with Chloe weren’t present with the twins and the last ultrasound proved they weren’t, thank God!

“You’ve said that too!” I grunt out.

We knew the babies were both girls and wanted to name one of them in honor of Alyssa so we decided to name our firstborn Allie. “I hope they look just like you,” I said once we agreed on Allie’s name and E lit up.

“Hope!” he exclaimed.

“Hope?” I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

“Hope!” he exclaimed again. “That is the name of our second-born!”

Hope.

“Dee!” he said emphatically. “We gave each other hope when we had none. That’s the perfect name!”

I couldn’t agree more. “It’s perfect!” I told him. “Hope it is.”

It was decided. Allie for the baby that comes out first and Hope for the second.

“There are my godbabies!” Lysee announces as she rushes to my bed. Josh, Justin, Chance, Kyle, Riley, Luke, Beverly, Rodger, Heather, and Jerry all follow her in. She rushes to me and tenderly grabs Allie out of my arms.

“Mine!” Josh rushes over like a mad man but then, just as gently, takes Allie out of Lysee’s arms and sits to cradle her.

“Hey! We made two of them,” I laugh.

“Come to your uncle Josh, my sweet magnolia,” Josh drawls, kissing Allie on her forehead.

There are two babies and they’re both fighting over one. That is so Josh and Lysee.

“Josh has Allie,” I tell everyone. The most important people in our lives are in the room with us right now. “And E is holding Hope.”

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Beverly asks while taking Hope from E’s arms.

“Perfect,” I answer looking up at E who’s beaming with pride and love. I love seeing him this happy.

“She’s just beautiful,” Heather gushes looking down at Hope lying in Beverly’s arms before taking Allie out of Josh’s arms and sitting to coo to her newest grandchild.

“Mom,” E announces. “You’re holding Allie Simone Adams-Montgomery.”

We took my dad’s name, Simon, and made it Allie’s middle name, adding an “E” at the end to make it feminine.

“And Beverly,” he continues. “You’re holding Hope Alexandra Adams-Montgomery.”

We used Alex’s name and changed Alexander to Alexandra to make it feminine.

The girls are beautiful. Identical twins, each with a full head of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that already shine with mirth. They have little button noses and full pouty lips. Both are healthy! Allie was born nine minutes before Hope. And Allie is six pounds two ounces while Hope weighs in at five pounds ten ounces.

“Today’s their birthday!” E says. “So we all need to wish them a happy birthday.” At that, he starts singing “Happy Birthday” to them and everyone joins in.

“I’m loving this!” Lysee cheers after the song comes to an end.

We’re all sitting around in my private room, enjoying the babies, when Justin’s phone rings.

“Justin here,” he answers, without a care in the world.

“Wait…WHAT?!” he shouts jumping out of his seat. His voice full of panic.

Justin turns white as a ghost and visibly starts to shake. E races over to him and grabs the phone as it starts to slip out of his limp hand.

Oh my God! Something is horribly wrong.

Everyone jumps to their feet and Lysee rushes to Justin’s side while E quietly talks to whoever’s on the other end of the line.

“Hold on,” he tells the caller and lowers the phone down to his side. “Austin House is on fire.”

Lysee’s hand flies to her mouth as she gasps while words of disbelief reverberate throughout the room.

E quietly listens, his scowl deepening as anger and fear cloud his previously joy-filled eyes. “Okay, we’re on our way!” he says and hangs up. He then turns to us. “They say it was one of the husbands of one of the new families that just moved in.” He takes a pained breath and continues. “He torched the shelter.”

“Fuck…” Justin whispers in disbelief.

“It’s bad,” E tells everyone, grasping the back of his neck, his tell. “The police are there now. He was in the building demanding they go with him. They refused and he went ballistic. He screamed they would all ‘burn in hell,’ and ran out. Not five minutes later, they heard glass break as they watched the front of the building become engulfed in flames. They’ve managed to get everyone out of the building but…it’s bad.”

“That’s their home and now they have nowhere else to go,” Justin says through his tears.

E turns to look at me, his eyes pained and pleading.

“Go,” I tell him.

His shoulders sag with relief. I know how torn up he is.

“Beverly and Heather will stay here with me. It’s okay, babe,” I reassure him. “You need to be there.”

E comes over and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, a silent thank you. He places one kiss on Hope’s forehead, one on Allie’s, and rushes out of the room.

Heather, Beverly, and I all sit in silence as we watch them leave.

Please, God. Please let everything be okay.

First and foremost, thank you for taking a chance with an unknown author and a book with a sensitive subject. I truly hope you enjoyed Saving Each Other. If you’d be so kind as to leave a review with Amazon or Goodreads, I would truly appreciate it.

To my family, my husband of thirty years and best friend, Jeff, and my two amazing boys, Jason and Brian. It’s because of you, your unending support and loving encouragement that I was able to do this.

Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations - www.okaycreations.com

The work you do is amazing. I love the cover you created for my first book and the artwork you designed for the beginning each chapter is gorgeous. You truly captured the essence of Dani, Ean and their story. I’m excited to see what you come up with for Justin and Lysee’s story.

Stacey Blake at Champagne formats - www.champagneformats.com

The package is what gets you to buy the product, but true measure of its quality is what’s on the inside and that shines through in everything you do. You really do deliver the very best!

Thomas J Seebourns - www.thomasjsebourn.zenfolio.com

Your scenic shots of Manhattan Beach are stunning. You make me see the city I lived in for over twenty years with a beauty most never see and I’m honored to include your work in my books.

The cover models are from Stocksy, courtesy of Jacob Lund. You helped capture the image of Dani and Ean that I had in my mind’s eye.

To Judy Zweifel at Judy’s Proofreading - www.judysproofreading.com

You deserve a million thank yous! I sent you my book after I wrote the first edition. My editor hadn’t even seen it yet. And though it clearly wasn’t ready for you, you were still willing to help and your early comments proved invaluable. I then sent it to you after I was finished. But it wasn’t really ready. Once again, your comments proved invaluable and I changed several things. When I begged you to take one last look, promising to “put the shovel down,” you did. You’re tremendous at what you do! Every time I see your name attached to a book, I know I’ll be able to enjoy the story without distraction.

Jessica Park! You know an author is really great when you finish the book only to go back to the beginning and read it all over again. I love your work! Matt and Julie are still my favorite. They hooked me with their first words and still haven’t let me go. His proposal is epic!

To my fabulous beta readers!

Tara at Perrywinkle Photography - www.perrywinklephotography.com

Tara! You were the first person outside my family to read my book. Your comments were seriously invaluable and through your eyes, I was able to see my book in a whole new light.

Shari, my fabulous cousin, I’ve always held you in the highest regard. So when you told me you loved Dani and Ean’s story…my soul smiled.

Merritt, friends are the family you make for yourself. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to be my beta reader. I love and appreciate you. Always have, always will!

Jacchi! The same goes for you! You’re the diamond inside the hunk of coal. The world is brighter because you’re in it and I’m a better person for having you in my life.

Dawn, they’re always those people who empty your “bucket” and those who constantly fill it. Thank you for always serving up a smile and for always filling my “bucket.”

Debra, my family and I are so lucky to have you in our lives. You’re incredibly special and I can’t thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy life to be one of my beta readers.

Saving the best for last.

A huge thank you to my editor and sounding block, Francine LaSala! Author of The Girl, the Gold Tooth & Everything, Rita Hayworth’s Shoes, and A Comfortable Madness. www.francinelasala.com

I know, without a doubt, Saving Each Other would never have come to life without your unending dedication and exceptional talent!

Special Thanks

I’m honored to send a personal thank you to the following businesses. If you find yourself in Los Angeles, San Diego, or New York, I encourage you to visit the restaurants and places I’ve included in this story. They’re all exceptional. Please also support the services that I have included in the resource section below. The work they do is incredible. And lastly, a special thank you to the cities of Hermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach, and Redondo Beach. Each city is beautiful and welcoming. If you have a chance to visit California during the spring or fall, make it a point to attend Fiesta Hermosa and the Hometown Fair, you won’t regret it.

The Spot Restaurant 110 Second Street Hermosa Beach, California | El Pollo Inka 1100 Pacific Coast Highway Hermosa Beach, California
Mama D’s 1125 Manhattan Avenue Manhattan Beach, California | Ragin Cajun 525 South Pacific Coast Highway Redondo Beach, California
Captain Kidds 209 North Harbor Drive Redondo Beach, California | Big Mikes Philly Steaks 114 Hermosa Avenue Hermosa Beach, California
Hope Chapel Christian Church 2306 Pacific Coast Highway Hermosa Beach, California | Tiffany and Company 210 Rodeo Drive Beverly Hills, California
Beverly Hills Polo Lounge 9641 Sunset Boulevard Beverly Hills, California | Nate and Al’s 414 North Beverly Drive Beverly Hills, California
Agent Provocateur 242 North Rodeo Drive Beverly Hills, California | Hansen’s Cakes 193 South Beverly Drive Beverly Hills, California
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center 8700 South Beverly Boulevard Los Angeles, California | Our House 1663 Sawtelle Boulevard Los Angeles, California
Holy Cross Cemetery 5835 Slauson Avenue Culver City, California | Hyatt Regency 180 Nohea Kai Drive Lahina, Hawaii
Disney Cruiseline www.disneycruise.disney.go.com |

NEW YORK

Serindipity 3 225 E 60th Street New York, Ny | Ellen’s Stardust Diner 1650 Broadway New York, NY
Pegu Club 77 W, Huston Street New York, NY |

SAN DIEGO

Hacienda de Vega 2608 S. Escondido Blvd. Escondido, Ca. | Seaworld 500 Seaworld Drive San Diego, Ca.

Resources

Whether you have lost a loved one or know someone who has recently suffered the devastating loss of someone they loved. Whether you are a victim of domestic abuse or know someone who is. Or if you know of someone whose better option is to live on the streets. Whether you are part of the LGBTQ community struggling with who you are or you know someone who is, I have included some places that can help.

Loss of a Loved One

The Center for Complicated Grief

This website provides information on grief and loss and options for support. It includes online communities, national and local bereavement support groups, and opportunities to share your story and get involved.

www.complicatedgrief.columbia.edu/resources/grief-organizations

The Compassionate Friends

This website is for organizations to help cope with the loss of a child.

www.compassionatefriends.org

Services in the Los Angeles area

Calabasas Counseling and Grief Recovery Center

For the past 20 years we have been helping people overcome with the pain of loss. The center was founded to, “Help people move past their grief and restart their lives.”

They are located at 22231 Mullholland Highway in Calabasas 1-818-222-3985

Or on the web at www.calabasascounseling.com

Our House Grief Support Center

West Los Angeles

1663 Sawtelle Boulevard

1-310-473-1511

Woodland Hills

21860 Burbank Boulevard

1-818-222-2344

or on the web at www.ourhouse-grief.org

Domestic Abuse

National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence

Designs, provides, and customizes training and consultation, influences policy, promotes collaboration, and enhances diversity with the goal of ending domestic and sexual violence.

www.ncdsv.org

National Domestic Violence hotline 1-800-799-SAFE

National Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-HOPE

National Coalition Against Domestic Violence

Their mission is to be the voice of victims and survivors. They are the catalyst for changing society to have a zero tolerance for domestic violence. They achieve this by effecting public policy, increasing understanding of the impact of domestic violence and providing programs and education that drive that change.

They can be reached at their main office in Denver, Colorado 303-839-1852 or on the web at www.ncadv.org

Teen Runaway

Stand Up for Kids

Helping homeless and street kids everywhere. Their mission is to “End the Cycle of Youth Homelessness throughout the United States.”

1-888-365-4543 or on the web at www.standupforkids.org

National Runaway Safe-line “Here to listen. Here to help.”

Call the National Runaway Safe-line at 1-800-RUNAWAY, text 66008 or visit the web at www.1800runaway.org

Safe Place “For youth…Someplace to go. Someone to help.”

This is a nationwide organization that helps when “Teens find themselves in crisis or need a place to stay, they should know how and where to get help. Our nation’s young people deserve safety and shelter and many youth feel they don’t have either. Thanks to Safe Place, immediate help is never too far away.” They provide immediate help and supportive resources to youth in need and designated places such as schools, fire stations, libraries, and other youth-friendly organizations as Safe Place locations, which display the yellow and black sign.

1-800-RUNAWAY, by texting TXT 4 HELP and entering the word “safe” and your current location to 69866.

www.nationalsafeplace.org

Services in the Los Angeles area

Covenant House

For more than 25 years, Covenant House California has been an open door to thousands of homeless kids…providing them with a safe environment, education, employment, and, most importantly, a chance to become independent, self-sufficient adults. The kids who come to Covenant House for help are often victims of physical and sexual abuse. Many are aged-out of the foster care system or trying to escape gang membership or a life of prostitution and violence.

They can be reached by calling 323-461-3131 or on the web at www.covenanthouse.org

GLBTQ services

National LGBTQ Task Force

The National LGBTQ Task Force advances full freedom, justice and equality for LGBTQ people. Their goal is to build a future where everyone is free to be themselves in every aspect of their lives.

Five offices currently exist throughout the United States. For more information, go to wwwthetaskforce.org

The Trevor Project

Supporting LGBTQ youth in crisis, “The Trevor project was founded in 1998 by the creators of the Academy Award winning short film TREVOR, The Trevor Project is the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24.”

They can be reached by calling 1-866-488-7386 or on the web at www.thetrevorproject.org

Author’s Note

This story came to me in waves. Dani and Ean woke me up in the middle of the night and the best way I can it describe is…like listening to an audiobook. I felt their pain with such intensity it took my breath away. I got up, opened notes on my iPhone, and my thumbs got to work. I wrote it in a month. I then spent the next year and a half working with Francine LaSala (Google her…she really is incredible!) to get it where it is today.

I truly believe in soulmates, the one you connected with, time and time again throughout eternity. In the course of writing this book, I came to realize it doesn’t matter what form that soul takes because it’s the soul we embrace and the connection we share with that special soul. That the loss of someone you love takes all the color out of your world and that loss of every kind hurts.

I lost my goldendoodle to cancer. I watched my beautiful, strong, vibrant dog, that one soul that always makes you smile and lift your spirits, take his last breath. I had nine years with my Norman and while I cherish every minute I had with him, he still left this world, far too soon.

Embrace the ones you love. Cherish the time you have with them and celebrate it. Always celebrate it!

February 17, 2008 —May 26, 2017

Preview of Saving Them

Lysee Wright and Justin Sinclair

Synopsis

Two people so broken they become more committed to saving others than they are to saving themselves.

“This is so wrong. So very, very wrong.”

My name is Lysee Wright. I used to be Annalyse Cartwright, the only child of a captain in the army, who constantly moved us from post to post in order to hide his secret. To hide his abuse. My nightmare began when my mother died. I was twelve, just a child. Scared, lost and lonely, I never saw him coming. My loving father had become the predator, and I…his target.

My nightmare came to an end the day I escaped. On my sixteenth birthday, at the height of his abuse, I ran. Quickly and quietly, under the cover of darkness, never to be a victim again.

“The pain surged through me. I wasn’t new to the pain; pain was my normal.”

My name is Justin Sinclair. I spent my teenage years hiding bruises and masking injuries. Suffering unfathomable abuse at the hands of my father, a person who was supposed to love and protect me.

My nightmare came to an end the day my mother killed my father…just seconds before he nearly killed me.

“I know how to survive and now I will thrive.”

As adults, Justin and Lysee both work tirelessly, dedicating themselves to helping the people they once were.

Can Lysee find security and love? Can she build a new life? Can she finally find a place to call home? Or do her scars run too deep?

Can Justin heal? Can he find peace? Can he learn that love doesn’t have to hurt? Or do his scars run too deep?

Can these two survivors of abuse have a functional romantic relationship? Or will the pain of their pasts destroy any hope of a future they can have together?

“YOU’RE DEAD, ASSHOLE!” MY dad shouted. Veins bulging, eyes vacant, face contorted with rage.

I knew he meant it.

CRACK!

That was the sound of my heading hitting the credenza.

The pain surged through me. I wasn’t new to the pain; pain was my normal.

This wasn’t the first time, this wasn’t the tenth time. He’s been abusing me since I was thirteen. Some kids get a huge party with tons of friends and family celebrating their entrance into adulthood. My entrance into adulthood was three cracked ribs. “My son fell down the stairs.” His words.

BANG!

My dad suddenly fell, heavy on top of me. He had just thrown me across the room and was stalking towards me, going in for the kill. I knew what he was going to do but I was broken…powerless. Unable to stop him.

When I looked up, I noticed my mom, standing behind him, the gun she usually kept in her jewelry store clutched in her shaking hands, smoke billowing from the barrel. Her face, pale and hollow. The living room floor painted red, the coppery smell of blood filling the air.

It took my abused brain a minute to figure it out. My mom just shot my dad. In the back of his head.

I was a mistake. My mom accidentally got pregnant. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Her birth control failed her. My father never wanted kids and hated me before I was even born. He took it out on her on a daily basis, belittling and berating, taunting, threatening, and torturing until I stepped in to stop it. And that’s when my nightmare began.

It was just the three of us.

We were his victims. His silent victims. My mom, the victim of his words, and me, the victim of his fists. I lived with constant, well-hidden bruises. Our home on Poinsettia Avenue, a prominent street in one of the most exclusive sections of Manhattan Beach, was not even close to being as beautiful as the Christmas flower, but no one ever knew. No one could ever know.

My parents met at the local country club where they were both members. My dad had been a member all his life and went often to be around what he called “The right kind of people.”

He didn’t abuse alcohol, drugs, or anything like that, he just abused me. He wasn’t homophobic and he wasn’t mentally ill. What he was, was a bastard! A mean son of a bitch who didn’t need anything to bring that out. Being alive just did that for him. He was the bully. I was the victim. I was his kid.

That wasn’t even an excuse, though. He was a very successful attorney who specialized in criminal defense. My father grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and used that to his advantage. He took over his father’s law firm after my grandfather’s sudden and untimely death from a massive heart attack. He recruited in his fraternity brother and closest friend, Charles Ericson, and changed the name from the Law Offices of Brandon Sinclair to Sinclair & Ericson LLC.

Charles never knew that I was beaten. No one did. My father made certain of that. He limited any and all evidence to my body, avoiding my face at all costs. He valued his reputation more than he valued me.

I could have taken him but I would’ve had to kill him to make him stop. Or, I could have just killed myself. That would have stopped the pain. By the time my mom killed him, I was old enough, strong enough, and smart enough to stop him, but I couldn’t because I knew it would destroy my mother if I got arrested for murder.

Over the years, I begged her to leave him. She refused, telling me this was her home and that things were going be okay. I loved her too much to leave her alone with him. I knew that he’d follow through on his promise to kill her. He hated her but he hated me more. I later learned that she was stuck in the cycle of abuse. I knew she was petrified to leave; she knew I was petrified to stay.

After my mom was cleared and the truth was revealed, I inherited his half of the firm. The practice was run by Charles while I was at UCLA and I wanted to show him that I was worth the effort. I have always been very ambitious and knew that I was going to be practicing law as a career so I went for a double major in economics and political science, with a minor in digital communications. I spent my summers interning under Charles and worked my ass off during the school year, graduating in just under four years at the top of my class. After graduation, I attended USC for my legal degree. The minute I passed the bar, I literally drove across town to assume my role as the Sinclair at Sinclair & Ericson LLC.

Charles became a permanent fixture in my life after everything went down. He was our rock and, long story short, he’s been my mom’s boyfriend since my father’s death. Charles is a very striking man, taller than my six-foot-one build, with salt and pepper hair, a strong face, and eyes that are a lighter shade than my own gray ones. He’s in great shape, a runner preferring to jog along the shoreline instead of the road.

My mom is a stunning woman. The opposite of my dad’s California blond hair, blue-eyed look. I look just like her. Another reason my dad hated me.

My mom moved to California from New York to study interior design but fell in love with jewelry design in college. After she graduated she got a job working for a well-known jewelry designer in Beverly Hills, someone who caters exclusively to movie stars and moguls. She made tons of connections and after much prompting from several of her clients along with family and friends, she opened up her own store in downtown Manhattan Beach.

Her store became popular quickly. Since the residents of Manhattan Beach are all about “show,” and subscribe to the philosophy of “It’s not what you know…,” “It’s not what it costs…,” and the ever-popular “See and be seen,” her store became the “It” place to buy their jewelry. Buying from my mom is a show of status and saying the name of my mom’s shop while showing off their latest purchases was second only to the volume of carats they wore. She was utterly overpriced because she could be and they ate it up. After the shooting, she had a dip in sales but bounced back quickly. Apparently, status trumps murder.

She also got a license to carry a concealed weapon in the state of California and bought a gun the second she opened her store. She bought it “just in case,” but as far as I’m concerned…?

Best decision she ever made.

“DADDY! PLEASE!

“No, Daddy, I’m asking you to stop.

“Please, stop, Daddy. You’re hurting me.

“This is so wrong. So very, very wrong.

“Don’t do this.”

It’s been four years of living in an endless cycle of pain, fear, and misery. It started out innocently, cuddling, lying next to me all night. When he first started touching me I thought it was normal, that every father acted this way. I later found out that what he did was not normal and should never have happened.

He wasn’t always like this. He had been a man hardened by years in the military but my mom brought out his soft side. He was a kind, giving, wonderful man because of her and a great father. My mom died of ovarian cancer when I was twelve, and when she died, he died with her, on the inside. His soft side disappeared and all that was left was a monster. I have no siblings so it’s just the two of us.

During the day he was a loving, wonderful father. Never missing a school function or after-school activity. He was a high-ranking officer in the army and is always well respected in every community we live in, always encouraging kids to come hang out in our home and everybody loved him.

Everyone except me, I hated him and always will.

I can’t remember what he said when we were alone together. I only remember what he did. I was constantly terrified, existing in mental anguish. I stopped sleeping at night because that’s when he would come into my prison. Yes, that’s how I viewed my room, my home, my life.

Then came the threats. “If anyone finds out about our secret time, we’ll go far away and you won’t ever be able to see your friends and school again.”

I knew he’d make us move. He’d done it before. I didn’t want that, I never wanted that. Each time he said, “We need to move, military transfer,” and we’d move, once again, to another post where I didn’t know a soul and was utterly alone. I quickly realized his lie. We didn’t have to move because of the army. He kept moving us to protect himself. Every time I start to make friends or feel like I was home…we moved.

I like it here, I like the people and I like my school. It’s the only time I feel truly safe. I feel like I belong here and I want to stay, so I endure.

He speaks, I stay silent. He smiles, I cry.

I’m dead on the inside.

And once he penetrated me…I learned the meaning of true physical pain.

We were scheduled to move, again, after that night. Daddy told me that it was because somebody had heard me. That they heard crying. I was about to lose my best friend and everything I had grown to know and love. Instead of promising myself I would cry quieter, like I always do, this time I knew…I had to escape.

I stalled the move, telling him the words he wanted to hear and letting him do the things he wanted to do, I need more time.

I took on every job that came my way, working tirelessly in order to be ready when the time came to run. I babysat, dog-walked, took care of the elderly; you name it. I was also very frugal. I never touched any of the allowance my dad gave me. When I needed clothes, I’d take a bus to The Salvation Army. When I went out with my friends, I’d lie and say I already ate and when I did eat with them, I’d spend the least amount possible. It’s because of this that I’ve managed to stash away some money.

I have my backpack and a small duffle filled with clothes hidden in the coat closet behind our winter jackets, jackets that aren’t needed in California. I put them there because it’s the closet closest to the front door for a quick getaway and there’s zero chance of it being discovered.

My plan is to hop on a city bus and head from Bakersfield to Los Angeles. I’ve been using the computers in the public library to map out the bus routes so he won’t discover what I’m planning. I plan on changing busses several times along the way to mask my trail. It’s not going to be an easy journey and it’s not going to be a quick one but it’s a journey that I have to make. While online, I search for shelters for runaway teens and find one in Hollywood called Covenant House. Their mission is to “help abused or neglected youth who have nowhere else to go.” That’s me.

My chance to flee comes when he leaves to consult at another base. I spend the day on pins and needles, checking and rechecking my backpack and duffle to ensure I have everything I need. I have my money, all my mom’s jewelry, some personal items, and a picture of my mother and me. The one I would stare at all night, or until my tears clouded my vision. My treasures.

I had recently taken up jogging on a daily basis. I told my dad it was for exercise which he thought was a great idea. It was really to look for the least secure area; the place where I could leave, undetected…and I found it.

Once night finally falls and I am able to escape under the cover of darkness, I take one last look at my personal hell and I run. Quickly and quietly, I head towards freedom.

I also leave my phone so my dad can’t track it. I know he can find me. He’s always kept a tight rein on me and has used my cell phone before to keep tabs. He will never find me, I won’t allow it.

My name was Annalyse Cartwright. My name is Lysee Wright.

The bus stops in a cute little coastal town between transfers. I exit the bus and look up at a sign that reads, “Welcome to Hermosa Beach,” and immediately decide that for now I’m staying here. Something about this place just feels…right.

“Hermosa Beach,” I say on a smile. “Well, Lysee, welcome to your home.”

It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining and the warm breeze washes over me like an ocean wave. The ocean! That’s right, I’m by the ocean. I’ve never been to the beach before; military bases don’t usually double as prime vacation destinations. I head down to the water and my feet come to a sudden stop when they land on the soft sand. So beautiful…

I breathe it in. Miles of golden sand stretch out before me. I watch as the waves cover the golden sand with white foam before retreating once again. It’s all-encompassing. The sight of the blue water fills my eyes. The sound of the crashing waves fills my ears, the smell of the salty ocean air fills my nose, and the serenity of it all fills my soul.

I stop at the edge of the shoreline, take off my shoes, and roll up my jeans. I hoist my bags up over my shoulder and walk alongside it, laughing as the cool bubbles tickle my toes. “This is so, so beautiful,” I say again, reverently. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

After walking a while I sit down to enjoy the view and hear my stomach growl. I haven’t eaten since the Pop Tarts and orange juice I bought at my last stop and that was hours ago. I’ve been eating as little as possible in order to hold on to every penny until I can get my feet on the ground. For the first time I see the silver lining around my stormy past. I know how to exist off the bare minimum and I will survive.

I walk into town and stop when I spot this cute little restaurant, that so happens to be named, The Spot. It’s small and white with a bright red awning and bright red front door. The words “NATURAL FOOD RESTAURANT” are written below the name so I figure it’s probably a safe place to search for food in the dumpster. I set my bags down on the ground, where I can keep an eye on them, and climb into the bin to find something to eat. Just as I go to grab the first thing that looks edible, I hear a female voice.

“Can I help you?” I bolt up from my crouched position ready to run. Oh God! I have to get out of here! She is going to call the police!

As if she senses my fear, she immediately says, “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to call the police.”

I don’t look good, I know this. I have dark circles under my light-blue eyes. I don’t ever sleep well, but lately, I haven’t been sleeping at all. My long blond hair is dirty and limp—it’s been a long journey. I also know I’m all skin and bones. But this woman seems nice and for some reason…I feel safe.

Still, I say nothing.

I can’t. I’m frozen, mute and I’m scared. So scared. Acting on my silence, she asks, “Sweetheart, are you hungry?”

Again, I say nothing.

“Please,” she implores, “let’s go inside. It’s quiet right now. Come in and let me get you something to eat.”

I’m still petrified and can’t speak but I’m starving, so I lightly nod and follow her.

Tonya, the owner, as she introduces herself, is a very attractive woman possibly in her mid-fifties. She has dark hair that’s tied haphazardly at the back of her head. She also has a great body but what else could you expect from a woman who owns a “natural food restaurant”? As she holds the door open for me, her soft, chocolate-brown eyes smile, warming my frozen soul and immediately putting me at ease.

She sits me down at a table in the enclosed patio and leaves. I hope she’s making me something to eat and not calling the police. My heart pumps a staccato rhythm in my chest and sweat starts to pour down my back. I am about to get up and flee when she comes back carrying the most colorful dish I have seen. The green of the broccoli sits in harmony next to the orange of the carrots, as the white mashed potatoes in rich brown gravy join in their silent symphony. It smells like heaven and my stomach cries out in want.

“This is the blue plate special. It’s my favorite dish,” she tells me as she sets the plate down in front of me. When she goes back into the kitchen to grab me a drink, I take a bite and moan. So good!

When Tonya returns, she sits across from me and quickly bursts my bubble. “Do you have a place to live?” she asks.

I’m glad she doesn’t ask me what my story is because I’m not about to tell her. “No,” is my reply around a mouthful of the delicious food that I can’t get enough of.

I’m supposed to be in the eleventh grade, not homeless.

“Well, you’re in luck because I have a place for you to stay.” I know I must look weary because she immediately follows with, “I have an apartment above the garage in the back of my house and the front door has a dead bolt on it so you’ll be safe.”

Again, my gut tells me she’s trustworthy and my gut is rarely wrong.

So after I finish my meal, she tells someone to cover for her and we head out. As she’s holding the door open, she says something that makes my heart stop and start at the same time and I smile for the first time in…forever.

“Your home is just up the street and I know you’re going to love it.”

My Home…

I WAS SITTING IN A private room in the maternity ward of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles with my closest friends when the call came in.

My best friend, Ean’s, wife, Dani, just gave birth to the most beautiful twin girls, Hope and Allie. They both look exactly like him, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that already have that twinkle. The twinkle that says, “Buckle your seatbelt, Justin, you’re in for a bumpy ride.” The twinkle that I love. The twinkle that he lost after his life became a nightmare. The twinkle that I thought was gone forever.

Ean and Dani each lost their spouses in the same horrific car accident almost two years ago. Ean also lost his son and unborn daughter that day and until Dani, he was lost too. Dani put that twinkle back in Ean’s eyes and I thank God for her every single day.

When I entered the room, I gave him a slight nod which he returned because he knew exactly what I was thinking. “You made it, buddy, you survived,” I silently said, to which he responded, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

The room was filled with laughter and joy but the call quickly shattered the joy and eliminated the laughter. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t think or speak. Ean caught my phone as it was falling out of my hands.

Austin House is on fire… An explosion…

While frozen, my mind became flooded with memories. The people who saved me…the people I saved…

And I run.

I need to be there…

I’m almost at the front entrance to the hospital when the sound of my name stops me in my tracks. I turn around and notice my girlfriend, Lysee, and Ean running towards me, followed by the rest of my friends. I want to take the time to appreciate how the people I love are always there for me but—right now—getting to the shelter is infinitely more important.

Austin House is a shelter where victims of domestic abuse seek refuge after escaping abusive relationships and misplaced teens can turn their lives around. It’s a safe haven. A place for them to get back on their feet. Austin House provides job training and skills that help the people who live there find jobs while providing in-house schooling. It’s also the place that I have dedicated my life to over the last decade.

“I have to be there!” I shout as I start moving again.

“And I’m fucking driving!” Ean shouts as he jogs to catch up with me. “You really think I’d let you face this alone?”

Ean, Lysee, and I jump into Ean’s car along with his sister, Riley, and her boyfriend, Luke. As we race to the shelter, the silence in the car is deafening, the air is thick with worry, and all I can think, over and over, is…I need to be there…

When we arrive at Austin House, it looks like a scene out of Armageddon! The street’s blocked off and flooded with red and blue flashing lights, along with about one hundred people huddled together, hovering under blankets to stave off the early fall chill. I can feel my lungs burning and realize that I haven’t taken a breath but can’t figure out how to.

At Lysee’s wail, I snap out of my impending panic attack and we jump out of the car before it has a chance to come to a complete stop.

“He’s over there!” I shout to Lysee as we race towards Jayden Jaymes, the man who owns and runs Austin House, the man who I call a friend.

“What happened?!” I call to him and when I see him up close, I gasp. Jay is very imposing and self-assured. He’s incredibly strong, both mentally and physically. Six-and-a-half-feet tall with a body made of steel. But looking at him now…I hardly recognize him. His dark skin is ashen in hue and his knowing eyes are vacant. He isn’t the man I know and I’m gutted.

“There was an explosion!” he shouts over the chaos. “We were all in the common room celebrating a birthday when suddenly the door burst open and this guy comes storming in, demanding that we release his family.” He stops at the memory and we remain silent, allowing him the time to gather his thoughts before he continues.

“We refused and he turned and ran out the door shouting that we were ‘All going to burn in hell.’ We thought that was the last of him and went back to celebrating, but not five minutes later, a bottle on fire crashed through the front window and the lobby went up in flames.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lysee mutters.

“A Molotov cocktail?” I ask, my words laced with disbelief.

“That’s what we think. Our staff quickly grabbed everybody and rushed them towards the back exit while a few of my directors and I grabbed fire extinguishers and tried to put out the fire.”

“Jesus Christ…” Now it was my turn to say it.

“Jesus Christ!” Ean says, even though he heard this all before. I hadn’t realized he was behind me.

“He’s over there.” Jay points his chin towards a man being put into the back of a cop car; head down, wrists in handcuffs. “He ran after the explosion and hid in an alley by the apartments over there.” He then throws his head in the opposite direction, towards a cluster of apartment buildings a block away.

“The cops received a complaint about a noise in the alley. They called the police and he was found cowering behind the dumpster.”

He looks up at me and our eyes meet, sending a chill throughout my entire body. Still, the only thought that crosses my mind is, you chicken-shit asshole! Any man who could ever lay a hand on a woman with the intent to cause her pain is the definition of coward and don’t even get me started on men who abuse their children.

“Jayden Jaymes?” We turn and see two men in suits approaching us. “I’m Detective Jeremy Cooper, and this is Detective Chris Wayman.” Cooper then turns to Jay and says, “We were told you’re the person who owns this shelter.” At Jay’s nod, he continues. “We’d like you to come to the station to answer some questions regarding Mr. Jones.”

“Certainly, Detective,” Jay answers and turns to me. “Justin could you please join us?”

I nod that I will. I then turn to Ean and, like I did in the hospital, I wordlessly communicate with him. This time, I’m asking him to back me up. Ean nods back, a silent affirmation that he always will.

That’s the great thing about knowing someone since you were two years old. You can have an entire conversation without uttering a single word. In this case: “Can you please come with me while I’m being questioned? I need your support,” answered with, “You know I always have your back, brother.”

He is my brother.

“Detectives, I would like Mr. Montgomery to join us,” I say after introducing myself and explaining my connection to Jay and the shelter. Ean is around the shelter almost as much as I am so I know that Jay will be okay with this.

“Is he a lawyer?” Detective Cooper asks.

“No, that would be me. Mr. Montgomery is a member of my family and like myself, he is invested in the success of this shelter and the people who live in it.”

“Very well, Mr. Sinclair. Please follow us to the station where we can talk in private,” Cooper instructs before he turns and heads to his car.

Ean quickly runs over to Riley to tell her what’s going on. A couple of times I notice her looking my way. When she sees me looking back at her, she nods and I nod in return.

Soon Ean is back at my side, like he always is. He lets me know that Riley and Luke told him they’ll find their own ride back and not to worry.

All I can do is worry.

I know I should talk to Lysee and tell her what’s going on, but I know Riley will. I also know that Lysee will be okay. She always is.

To be continued…