Page 43 of Healed Hearts

He lifts off my chest and looks at me with a cocked head and a raised eyebrow. “Why does it sound like you’re trying to justify to me why you’re keeping photos of her?”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” I admit.

“Yeah, hearing the love and reverence in your voice when you talk about the woman you love and who gave you that precious baby of yours makes me real uncomfortable. Such a terrible human being you are.” The sarcastic tone of his voice brings a smile to my face.

“Well, to be fair, most people would be upset about it.”

“Honestly, to me? It’s a relief.”

“How so?”

“It’s proof that you are capable of loving someone enough that they linger with you forever. Ro was in love with his high schoolsweetheart for ten years. He left town when he was almost nineteen and didn’t go back for ten years. And they still loved each other to the point of madness. Mostly my own because Ro never shut the hell up about it.” He giggles, the sound so musical and bright it takes my breath away, and I can tell that he wasn’t driven as crazy as he’s acting. “It’s nice that they aren’t the exception, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” I say, smiling despite the way my heart is racing. It almost sounds like he’s saying it’s a relief that I can love deeply because he would be okay with me lovinghimdeeply. “I can show you some pictures if you want?”

“I do want,” he says, nodding.

He sits up, much to my dismay, but I grab my phone and go to the folder I have of all Maya’s photos. I hand the phone to him and watch him as he flips through the photos. So many pictures—her and me together, her pregnant with Wren, her and her parents, and even her in her hospital bed with a baby Wren in her arms, her smile proud but her eyes tired, so very tired. I can barely even look at those photos anymore. Not because I didn’t love her, but because it hurts too damn badly being reminded of how she died.

“Wow,” he breathes as he scrolls through, taking a long time to stare at each one before moving to the next. “She’s beautiful. Wren looks just like her.” When he reaches the end of the album, he sets the phone down. “I haven’t noticed any photos of her around the house? Why not?”

I shrug. “At first it hurt too badly, but then I don’t know. I just never hung any up.”

“We really need to change that. She deserves to be shown, not hidden away on your phone.”

My throat tightens at his words and tears spring to my eyes. I haven’t intentionally been hiding her away, but he’s right. I really should get some photos of her up. Not of her at the end.Especially not with Wren’s health so uncertain. We’re no closer to answers than we were before, and I know we may have a long road ahead of us. “I’ll work on that,” I choke out.

He gives me a little smile and snuggles back into my embrace. We lie in silence for a while until I feel his body growing heavier and his breathing evens out. I give him a gentle shake. “Hey, Holden.”

I almost chuckle at the parallel to the first night we spent in bed together. But when he raises sleepy eyes to me this time, he doesn’t bolt from the room. He offers me a soft grin and says, “Yeah?”

“Let me up for a second so I can change.” He glances down, like he’s just noticing that I’m still in jeans.

He nods, rolling off me onto his back on the bed beside me. I jump up and quickly strip down, changing into a pair of shorts, and climb back into bed beside him. I’m barely even settled before he’s attached to me again. I grab at the blankets and pull them up around us. He drops a hand to my stomach, and remembering his comment from before, I resist the urge to suck it in. He hums.

“You’re awfully snuggly. I like it,” I say.

“Used to cuddle Ro… has Beck now,” he murmurs, clearly half-asleep.

“You can cuddle me anytime you like, darlin’,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of his hair. He breathes out softly, and he’s out like a light. I stare at the ceiling. How the hell did I manage to get this lucky not once, but twice, in my life? I’m nothing special. But as I hold Holden’s sleeping form in my arms, I think maybe I could be.

I wake up before sunrise to the pitter-patter of feet across my floor. Wren comes to a stop at the edge of the bed and looks up at me with sleepy eyes. “Hey, baby girl. Are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down so I don’t wake Holden.

“Sleep in Daddy’s bed?” she asks with a yawn. I hesitate. Is that appropriate? We aren’t doing anything, and we’re both fully dressed, but I’m not sure how Holden would feel if he woke up and Wren was in bed with us.

“I’m not sur—” My words are cut off when Holden sits up beside me.

“If you don’t let that sweet baby in this bed, I’m going to be most upset with you.”

Asked and answered. I pick her up and scoot over so I can make room for her beside me. Holden makes grabby hands. “Come cuddle with me, Wren. We don’t need stinky Daddy cuddles.”

She giggles and climbs over me and right into his arms. He lies down, tucking her against his chest. He lets out a jaw-splitting yawn before closing his eyes. I stare at them in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling in my chest. Did they just completely cut me out? I can’t even be mad about it, not with the way he’s protectively cradling her. Not when she clearly feels safe and comfortable with him. My heart feels like it’s about to burst as I lean in, pressing soft kisses to each of their heads. Wrapping my arm around Holden’s waist, I close my eyes and drift off in seconds.

The next time I open my eyes, sunlight is streaming into my windows and Wren is still wrapped in Holden’s arms, both of them sound asleep. I grab for my phone and snap a quick photo of the two of them. I regret not taking more photos of Maya when she was alive. The small moments most of all. If losing her has taught me anything, it’s that I don’t want to make that mistake again.

I climb from the bed, careful not to disturb them as I do. I think some breakfast in bed is in order, so after going to the bathroom and doing my business and brushing my teeth, I head into the kitchen.

I have coffee brewing, and I’m cracking eggs into a bowl to scramble them when there’s a knock at the front door. I set the bowl down and turn the burner off. Who the hell is at my house this early?

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