Page 143 of The Space Between
Killing the engine, I turn to her. “Come on.”
She climbs out with a furrowed brow, glancing around as I lead her down the dirt path, holding her hand as we step over twisted roots and uneven earth until it opens up… to a clearing beside the river. A winding road can be seen on the other bank.
But here, it’s flat. Quiet. Serene.
I’ve set up two old chairs I found in my shed and repainted. There’s a small wooden table between them with her favorite drinks on top and a single daisy in a mason jar because she told me once that daisies were her grandma’s favorite. I got up before dawn to set this up.
She stops in her tracks, staring.
I keep her hand in mine. “This is where I lost them.” My chest clamps but I can still breathe. It hurts but not like it used to.
Her breath catches as I point to the other bank. “We went over right there,” I nod toward the bend in the river. “I was thrown. Molly and Aubree weren’t.” Her hand tightens around mine. “I come here sometimes,” I shake my head. “That’s a lie.I don’t. I haven’t. I couldn’t... I wanted to… but I couldn’t… not until yesterday.”
Her voice is small, and tears are silently rolling down her face. “Oh, Gruene… why yesterday?”
I turn to her. “Because for the first time in six years… I wanted to bring someone here. I wanted to show you. I needed to see… and I needed to face it…” Her eyes fill again. “I didn’t want you to think I was hiding any part of me,” I add. “Or of them.”
Tears track silently down her cheeks. “Gruene…”
“I told you once I wasn’t a good man. That what I had left of myself wasn’t enough for anyone to love.” I step closer, both hands cupping her jaw now. “But you love me anyway.” She nods, barely breathing. “And I love you,” I whisper. “You hear me, Blakelyn Walker? I love you with every wrecked, worn down, stubborn piece of me.” A sob breaks from her throat. “You’re the fire in my fucking lungs… the reason I even want to keep breathing,” I rasp. “And I will spend every single day, of whatever life I have left, proving that to you.”
She’s crying openly now. But she’s also laughing and nodding. “You already do, Gruene.”
Dropping to my knees in the grass at her feet, I reach into my pocket. My fingers close around the small box and I pull it out, opening it.
Her hands fly to her mouth when she sees it. She cries harder. The ring is nothing fancy. It’s a simple gold band with a river-green stone in the center. I had it made at a small shop in town after sneaking one of her rings out to get the size right.
“I want your forever,” I say. “I want your mornings, your nights, and everything in between. I want the nights when you can't sleep and the days when the world feels too heavy. I want to sleep beside you every night and know that I have a legalreason to be there. I want you to take my name… to maybe have a child… or two, if you want to.
“I can’t replace my Aubree, but I’d like the chance to do it all again, be a husband… possibly a father… and do it right this time… I know that my baby girl will watch over her siblings from up above and her Mommy would love you. I think you two would have been friends in another life.
“I love you, Blakelyn and I’m here. I’m staying… Please stay with me… Forever…”
Her whole body shakes. “Gruene?—”
“Marry me, Blakelyn?”
She sinks to her knees too, grabbing my face in her hands, her lips crashing against mine like a storm. She kisses me like the answer is yes.
I hope the answer is yes.
“Yes,” she breathes against my mouth. “God, yes. I love you, Gruene.”
I slip the ring onto her finger.
We makelove in that clearing like it’s the only thing that matters… like the river has always been part of us… like maybe—just maybe—there’s something holy in the broken.
Her hands tremble as they grip my shoulders. Her body bows beneath mine as I whisper promises against her neck.
There’s no rush. No fear. Only fire and forgiveness.
Only her.
Only us.
We’re sittingin the chairs as the sun begins to set. Her legs are tucked up into my lap. My arm is around her and her head is laying on my chest.
The wind moves gently through the trees. The water glistens in the dying light.
“I used to hate this river,” I admit.
She lifts her head. “And now?”
I meet her eyes.
“Now… it brought me home.”
She smiles and whispers, “You’re my home Gruene. I love you.”
As the sun sets and the woman I love, the woman who accepted me and loved me through the pieces and the pain, holds my hand with my ring on her finger, I know without a shadow of a doubt—we found love inthe space betweenwhere thepain ends,and thereal story begins.
