Page 84 of Finding London

She smiles at me, and I return it with one of my own.

“London?” Her brows go up in question as she and Loïc exchange a look.

He chuckles. “I know. What are the odds, right? We have a lot to talk about.”

Well, if that isn’t the understatement of the year.

Loïc

“Hope is the building block for miracles, but it is also the catalyst for disappointment, depending on which way the coin falls.”

—Loïc Berkeley

It’s impossible for me to wrap my mind around my reality at the current moment.

This is reality, right? Not some sick dream designed to completely destroy me?

This is real.

I grasp Sarah’s soft skin in my left hand, and her fingers entwine with mine. She squeezes back.

She’s here. She’s alive.

She’s here. She’s alive.

I repeat these thoughts over and over in my head. It’s still unbelievable. I don’t know how one should respond when someone he loves comes back from the dead, but I’m sure I could be handling it better. I’m one gigantic mess right now.

Driving toward my house minutes ago, I knew it was Sarah before I could even make out her features. The curve of her body and her posture as she sat on my porch steps was so familiar, even from a distance. For the past eight years, I’ve had all the infinitesimal details that made Sarah who she was running through my mind on repeat. Much like I do with my parents and my dad’s stories, I would play the two years that I spent with Sarah over in my mind until each memory was so ingrained in my brain that I could never forget it.

When one loses someone he loves and all that’s left are memories, one makes damn sure he will never forget any of the details, not one. So, I remembered her every single day. I might not have broadcasted my thoughts to the world or even to my one confidant, Cooper, but they were always there for me, in my mind, where I would have mourned her forever.

But, now, she’s here—alive, breathing, real.

It’s the most amazing moment in my life, and at the same time, it’s the worst. Thoughts of the past eight years plague me.

Where’s she been? What’s she been doing? Has she been sad? Alone?

I haven’t been there for her. I left her alone when she was so broken. I shudder as I try to imagine what our time apart has been like for her. I need to get her by herself, so we can talk. There is so much to say, so many questions to ask. More than anything, I just want to hold her and allow her presence to fill me up because, despite getting her back, I feel so lost. My world has been completely thrown off its axis, and I need to find my new normal. I’m off-kilter, and that isn’t a good place for me to be.

I’m reminded of London when I feel her small hand in my right one.

The three of us walk toward the house.

I’m literally holding my past in one hand and my present in the other, and the three of us are on a path to…where? My new future?I haven’t a clue. Of course, I’m not certain of much right about now. My mind’s a jumbled mess of confusion.

Cooper holds the door open for us, and we step inside. I release the two hands I was holding and wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans before bringing them to the base of my neck.

I’m mildly aware of the introductions happening as Cooper introduces Maggie to London. I make my way to the kitchen and fill a glass with water before chugging it down. I set the empty glass on the counter and turn to find Sarah behind me.

“I’m sorry. It’s a lot. I should have probably warned you before showing up.”

“No…it’s fine. I mean, yeah, it’s a lot”—I grin—“but never apologize. This is like a dream come true for me. I just need a moment to process it, is all. Don’t apologize, Sarah.” I let out a large breath. “Come here.” I pull her against my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I hug her tight. I’m still so amazed that I’m standing here, embracing her, my Sarah.

I close my eyes and relish in the sensation of having Sarah in my arms. We stand like this as my mind continues to try to wrap itself around this new reality. It’s like I need to keep touching her to reassure myself that she’s really here. It’s so surreal.

I open my eyes when I sense the presence of others. Cooper, Maggie, and London stand at the entrance of the kitchen. They all wear odd expressions. A mixture of happiness, confusion, and unease grace their faces. I want to laugh because this entire ordeal really is strange. It’s not like someone who was presumed dead shows up on my doorstep every day.

Cooper—gotta love him—breaks the awkward silence first. He has this innate gift to know what others need, and right now, we need some lightheartedness to break up this intense atmosphere. “So, I’m sure you two have tons to talk about, given the fact that you thought she was dead when you woke up this morning—and every other morning for the past eight years, for that matter. Do you two need time to talk? Do you want us to take London back for you?”

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