Page 28 of Fate

Chapter Seven

Kathleen

Last night was magical.There are no other words to describe it. After three years of pain, anguish, and sorrow, I feel free. Free to be a woman in love. Free to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Free to believe there is more out there for me. I’m not damaged. Just because I’m scarred, marred in a way I barely tolerate, it doesn’t mean I’m gone. I haven’t disappeared. Last evening, Carson proved it to me. It’s what my soul sisters have been harping on me about. It’s what Chase has said time and again.

I am not my scars. They are a part of me now. A part I can never erase. In the last discussion with my medical team, they said we’ve gone as far as we can with the attempts at making them aesthetically pleasing. My arm, ribcage, and just the very side of my right breast will remain deformed. It is what it is. I can no longer change that. The time has come to accept what happened to me and move on. Stop living in the past. Stop wishing for a different body. I am who I am. This is the newme.

I’m not a monster. I’m Kathleen Bennett. A survivor.

I survived a horrible fire. I lost my will, and with it, the desire to hold on to happiness. Somehow, I twisted myself into believing my injury made me ugly, unlovable—something to despise. Mostly because that’s how I felt when I saw the scars. Every time I removed my clothes and met my reflection in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me as me. I guess that’s how all people feel when they get older or gain a bunch of weight. With time, everyone changes. Some changes are for the better. Others are thrust upon us, and we have to make do. It’s what I’ve been doing for the past three years. Making do. No longer am I going to push my needs and desires into a corner so I don’t have to look at myself—or worse, so no one else hasto.

I deserve to be happy.

The thought flickers through my brain like a kaleidoscope of monarch butterflies flapping their wings at the sametime.

Happiness is a choice.

For the past three years I chose not to be happy. Sure, anyone in my position would have gone through a grieving process. And I did grieve. For the loss of my ability to sew. For the loss of my strength and mobility. But most of all, I grieved for the loss of Carson. I didn’t believe a young, virile man with his entire life ahead of him could love or want to be with a disfigured woman. I put so much into my looks and our physical relationship, I threw away our mental and emotional connections as if they were day-old news. Somewhere in my mind I believed I was not worthy of having someone so beautiful care for me and see me through a dark time. Instead of coping with the changes and challenges, I made the worst decision of mylife.

I pushed Carson away. I did that. My scars didn’t. That was allme.

I love you, Kathleen.

He lovesme.

During the heat of the moment, Carson Davis said the three words I’d always wished he’d say. I love you, Kathleen. Technically, four words. And what beautiful words they were. The moment he said them, something inside me clicked. Healed. Without Carson in my life, I was lost. Going through the motions in black and white. My life no longer had color. He brings color to my world.

Wheat-coloredhair.

Sparkling sky-blueeyes.

Straight white teeth.

Golden-brownskin.

All that beauty ismine.

We didn’t speak of our situation after making love last night. No, once we’d cleaned up, we were all shared smiles and sweet caresses. Throughout the night, Carson woke me and made love to me again. Three different times. He said he was making up for losttime.

When I think about it like that, we will have a lifetime to make up for losttime.

Turning on my side, I watch him sleep peacefully. Each little puff of air through his lips lifts a lock of hair that has fallen down his forehead.

How many mornings did I wake alone, scared and afraid to face the day without this force to fill me up and make me a whole person? I get now why people call their soul mates their other half. For me, Carson always filled all the empty spaces inside me. When I pushed him away, bits and pieces of his essence fell away too, leaving gaping holes within my heart and mind where his essence once lived.

I haven’t been happy the past three years. Each and every day, I woke up and thought I can make it through today. Just put one foot in front of the other.

Why should anyone have to “make it” through aday?

Dr. Madison, my therapist, said it was depression and I needed to work through those thoughts in a healthy manner. Fill up the holes inside me with something else. The only problem? Nothing worked. It was only ever Carson. He’d dug those holes inside me in the first place and burrowed deep until he had his place. He’s the only one who could piece me back together. Last night went a long way toward that happening.

Parts of me feel more put together now. There’s a lightness to my heart I’ve been missing for years. An ease I hope to enjoy for longer than a single night.

Will he want to see me again?

I blow out a long breath, fluffing my bangs up and away from my forehead. Kat, be reasonable. He told me he loved me. Wanted me to never forget how good it was between us. As if I ever could. Does it mean we’re automatically back together?

Do I want to open myself back up to loving thisman?

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