Page 118 of Free to Live
“Thank you, brother.”
“For what?” he asks over his shoulder.
“For giving me the best perspective I’ve had since you first handed it to me.” Phil stops dead in his tracks. Shaking his head, he makes his way inside the house before I lift the phone, and there he is.
The man who made me realize that life wasn’t worth living unless it had love.
“You look beautiful.” His voice is a rasp. “All those pictures of you in the hospital told me were that you were alive. This tells me you’re healed.”
“Not entirely, but I’m getting there,” I whisper. His face looks concerned. “I’ll be better once my heart is back in its right place.”
A slow smile causes his dimples to come out. “Then what I gave to Phil might help with that.”
“You didn’t have to do anything,” I protest. He shakes his head.
“You said yes, Hols. I’m holding you to that.” I hear him being paged over the speaker. “Now go. Get what I gave to Phil for you. Tonight, I want a new picture.”
“Deal. Stay safe,” I whisper.
“I have too many reasons not to stay safe.” Joe disconnects the call. I stand there for a moment with my phone pressed to my chest.
The next minute, I’m sprinting up the front walk. “Phil, what did Joe give you for me?”
“And I see your patience is now at an end,” comes his drawled reply.
I laugh because it is.
I’m suddenly impatient for everything. I want my life back.
I want to wrap my arms around Joe and tell him I love him for the man he is: the kind of man who’d give his heart to two women blessed to receive it in one lifetime.
64
Joseph
It’s hours later when I get the picture of Holly holding the letter I’d had wrapped with the “Yes, Yes, Yes,” pajamas from Free People clutched against her stomach.
And around her neck she’s wearing her diamond engagement ring on the chain I hung it on before I slipped it into the box the salesperson wrapped.
For the first time since she left that night, I took a breath that didn’t feel like I was choking because I knew my prayers had been answered.
She still loved me.
Unashamedly, I bowed my head and cried.
When Grace walked up and asked, “What’s wrong, Daddy?”
I told her, “Nothing, baby. These are happy tears.”
And they are. They might be some of the happiest I’ve ever shed.
Because I know in my dreams tonight, I’ll see her beautiful face.
Smiling.
Alive.
And healing.
