Page 98 of The Dirty Saint

I smile.

“That’s beautiful.”

Suddenly, little footsteps come running down the stairs at full volume.

“Dad, I’m ready. Wait, who’s this?”

Joshua looks at me.

“This is mom’s friend, Ezra. Why don’t you say hi?”

The little boy waves.

“Hi, Ezra.”

“Hi, Joshua.”

“You know my name,” he asks.

I nod. “I do. I also know that your favorite food is chocolate chip cookies, which is why,” I crouch down to his level and hand him the tin. “I made them specially for you. I hope your dad doesn’t mind.”

Roy shakes his head.

“That was very kind of you, Ezra.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Joshua hands his father the tin and then stares down at the floor.

“Were you with Mom when she died?”

I glance at Roy, who nods.

“I was. And she wanted me to tell you just how proud she was of you and how much she loved you. She also made me make her a promise.”

Joshua looks into my eyes.

“She made me promise that no matter what, I would always be here for you and your dad. That I would protect the two of you, even if from afar.”

Joshua places his hand in his father’s.

“Thank you, Ezra.” Roy gives his son a kiss. “For telling me what happened to my wife.”

I nod. “Of course.”

That night, after an incredibly emotional day, I put my hand on my chest and take a deep breath.

I want to believe I’ll be okay. In my heart of hearts, I like to think I will be.

But it’ll take time. No one goes through something traumatic just to come out on the other side a few weeks later. I wish it worked that way, but evenI’msmart enough to know that it doesn’t.

Pushing off the door frame with my foot, I take a small glance at the ceiling, letting out a small smile.

“I love you, Lana Pipperty. And I promise to keep you alive in my heart for the rest of my life. I won’t forget you, sweet girl. Not ever.”

Wiping a tear from my eye, I head to my bedroom, where I crash for the night, shoes included.

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