Page 1 of Promised Love

PROLOGUE

AUTUMN

Four years ago

Emotions sting the back of my eyes, but I hold on to them as I watch my grandpop lying on the hospital bed through the glass door.

“This isn’t his first heart attack, Jasper. We’ll try the best we can.” There’s sympathy in Dr. Hoot’s voice. He’s the head of the cardiology department and my dad’s colleague at Cherrywood Hospital.

I don’t hear Dad’s response, most likely it’s a simple nod, and when Dr. Hoot leaves, he pulls me closer. “It’ll be fine, Autumn.”

I burrow myself more into Dad, but tonight, the comfort of his familiar soft frame isn’t enough to ward off my worries.

“I don’t want him to die,” I whisper, and it becomes difficult to breathe when Dad doesn’t assure me that he won’t. He simply squeezes my shoulder once before turning me around.

Mom and Grandma are perched on the metal chairs, holding each other’s hands and looking lost, which goes against their entire nature. Especially Grandma. She isn’t the type of person who waits for things to happen, but I guess sometimes even the strongest are helpless against the forces of life.

I just want this night to end and go back home with everyone.

* * *

There’s an uprising of nerves in my stomach when I plod toward the window of my bedroom. I have a good view of my grandparents’ living room. Upon the sight of Grandpop sitting on the couch facing the TV, I let go of a deep breath, and it washes away the anxiety.

He was finally sent home yesterday, after six days spent at the hospital. He survived, but for how long, no one really knows. Dr. Hoot said a month, maybe two, and recommended we spend as much time as possible with Grandpop.

Flopping onto the bed, I glance at the vision board I’d made after listening to a seminar being held at our inn.

Manifesting your dreams by the power of visualization.

I wonder if my vision board has the power of working against nature.

Laced with more hope than belief, I print a picture of Grandpop smiling as he cut his birthday cake last year. Using a pin, I stick it to the board with the image of our inn. It has always symbolized the day I’d take over the family business from Mom.

I close my eyes and try to visualize that day, Grandpop next to me and whispering in my ear, “You did it, firefly.”

“Tums?”

My eyes pop open, and I find Dad standing in the doorway.

“Grandma asked us all to come over.”

“Why?” My voice trembles as I rush to the window, but Grandpop is still sitting on the couch.

“He’s fine. He wants us to have breakfast together.” Dad covers the distance in short steps, smiling at me. “When your grandparents decided to move next door, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. They can be a little…pushy.”

I don’t even try to hold back my chuckle. Pushy is an understatement. My grandparents always have a way of getting what they want.

I’m unaware right now that soon my grandparents are going to prove we didn’t know the extent of their pushing abilities.

“I want to meet Lukas,” Grandpop says as we all sit around the circular dining table, a healthy breakfast of oatmeal, nuts, and berries in front of us.

My heart rate picks up at the name I’ve heard only once—two years ago.

Silence stretches in the room until Dad clears his throat. “Why?”

I look up from the bowl, and Grandpop’s affectionate gaze is on me. “I cannot go knowing your life’s at risk, firefly.”

A cotton ball forms in my throat, and it takes a huge effort to swallow it down. “You’re not going anywhere.” I get up and hug him from behind. My face rests on his shoulder, and the familiar scent of his talcum powder slowly calms my nerves.

---