Page 33 of Wanting Happily Ever After

Where was he?She couldn’t see him. She shook her head back and forth, desperate to find him, but she couldn’t see anything but blackness.

I’m here!She tried to yell, but no sound came out.Josh. I’m here.

Tears poured from her eyes. A sob choked in her throat.

“Sarah!” His hands were on her.He was there.He was with her. “Open your eyes, Sarah! Wake up.”

She sat up with a start, her eyes flying open and her heart racing. “Josh?” She spun around as her eyes slowly focused on the man before her.

A man who was not her husband.

Because her husband was dead.

He’d gone for a swim and never came back. Reality crushed her like a weight as the dream faded away.

It was Brody who’d been calling her name. Brody with his arms around her. Brody who she’d fallen asleep on the couch with after—

“Mommy?”

Rory?

Rory!

Instantly, Sarah’s mother instincts kicked in. Fortunately, Brody—whose presence she was still trying to reconcile in her head…never mind the fact that they were naked or that they’d had sex; she’d deal with that later—had already jumped into action. He tossed some clothes in her direction. She tugged the shorts on over her hips and was just pulling the T-shirt—which she realized belatedly was his—over her head when Rory came into the room.

“Mom?” The way that Rory rubbed at her eyes, still half asleep and with her stuffed rabbit, Bramble, tucked into the crook of her arm and still wearing her bright bathing suit, her little girl looked even younger. “What’s wrong?”

Sarah glanced around, hoping that Brody had disappeared. He had, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she crossed the room to her daughter. “Nothing’s wrong, kiddo. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I heard you screaming.”

Screaming? Shit.

Her dream.

She was still vibrating from the images she’d seen in her head. It had been so real. All of it. Like it had just happened moments ago, and not almost six years ago.

Sarah took a deep breath and knelt next to Rory. “You know how sometimes you have a bad dream?” Rory nodded. “Well, that’s what I had. Just a bad dream, and I must have screamed out loud. I’m sorry I scared you.”

She stroked her daughter’s hair and pulled her close.

Sarah couldn’t be sure who was doing the comforting in that moment. Holding her little girl was a soothing balm to the ache in her chest.

After a few minutes, Rory giggled and pulled away from her. “You smell like Brody.”

Sarah froze, her breath caught in her throat. “Brody?”

“You’re wearing his shirt, silly.”

Sarah almost corrected Rory that it was Logan’s shirt, and Brody had only been wearing it, but it definitely wasn’t a detail that mattered. Instead, she said, “Let’s get you back to bed. It’s late.”

“You should go to bed, too. Don’t sleep on the couch, Mom. It’s not very comfy.”

Sarah couldn’t help but smile at how observant her daughter was, which was also incredibly worrisome. She’d only been seconds away from Rory discovering her with Brody on the couch where they’d—she couldn’t think about it. At least not yet.

Rory was exhausted, and fortunately crawled back into her bed with no complaint, her eyes closing almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Sarah sat and watched her chest rise and fall for what felt like hours before finally slipping from Rory’s bedroom.

She was only a little bit surprised when she found Brody sitting in the kitchen, a cup of tea in front of him, and an extra steaming mug set out for her. “I assumed you would have left,” she said.

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