Page 88 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

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Candi

Of course Enzo texted me when he found out about Dad. He probably would’ve come with me, to support me and to help. Because that’s who he is. And let’s face it, his meals would’ve been a hell of a lot better.

Dad’s right. I need to fight for him.

But there’s something I have to do first.

I unpack my bags, put away my toiletries, and throw in a load of laundry. Then I open my hope chest at the foot of my bed. Mom’s wedding veil is on top, protected in a zippered, thick-plastic storage bag. Placing it on the floor, I take out the bag of seashells from the time Mom and Dad took me to the beach when I was around eleven. Mom was on the beach blanket napping and Dad walked along the water’s edge with me, picking seashells. I was happy. It’s the only happy memory I have with him. I vow to make more memories with him and see him a little more often.

Next, I pull out Jelly Bean, the stuffed, light gray rabbit they gave me for my fifth birthday. I slept with that thing through college. Peeking inside the chest, I take out my old Canon PowerShot point-and-shoot camera that Mom gave me. The camera that started it all. Lifting my purple butterfly purse off of the blanket my grandma had knitted for me, I put it on the floor. Then I pick up Grandma’s blanket, underneath of which lies an old photo album I’d tucked away, thinking my heart had healed after Dom. I carefully lift it out and grab Grandma’s blanket, then sit on my bed, draping the blanket over my lap.

Opening the cover of the album, I’m struck with the picture of my and Dom’s first date. Heartache fists inside my chest. He took me to the zoo and we had the best time walking the paths and looking at the animals. Sentimentality pulses in my chest. I lightly touch his face.

“Sometimes I still see you here,” I say to him. “Standing in front of me, looking at me the way you did on our first date. I close my eyes, shut out the world, and see you in my head. I walk down memory lane, so I can be with you again for a little while.” I rub his ring between my fingers.

Flipping through the pages, memories inundate me, making me smile and making me sad. With each turn of a page, I relive the moment, trying to let go. Time passes as I’m lost in reverie. Coming to the end of the album, I close it and hold it tightly to my chest, letting my head hang over it.

I’m ready.

I get back in my car and drive to the cemetery, down the winding path I know by heart. My legs heavy, I climb the hill to his grave and sit next to him in the grass. A breeze caresses my face, gently blowing strands of hair.

I sit.

I breathe.

Silent.

Taking in a long, labored breath, I let it out slowly. With trembling hands, I weave through my hair to the clasp at the back of my neck. The arm of it under my nail, I pull it open, releasing the circle. Both sides of the chain in my hands, I lower Dom’s ring into one hand. Closing my fingers around it, I hold it to my chest, staring at his gravestone.

“I’ll never stop loving you.” I inhale down to the crater, and let it out, releasing pain, releasing him. “But it’s time for me to open up my heart to someone else and the chance to love again.”

I close my eyes. The sound of my breaths fills my ears. The breeze wisps away his ghost from my soul.

Opening my eyes, I pull a pouch out of my pocket that I’d brought with me and tuck the ring safely inside, then return it to my pocket. Pressing my fingers to my lips, I kiss, and place my fingers on his gravestone.

“Goodbye, my love.”

With a sigh, I get to my feet and go back to my car. When I get home, I go to my bedroom, open my hope chest, and put everything back in, adding Dom’s ring.

Sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed, it occurs to me that I have no idea what to do to get Enzo back. I need to show him I’m ready. I’m ready to move on with my life. I’m ready for him to be in it, fully, completely. I’m ready to take a chance on love…with him.

Because she writes romance novels for a living and because she’s my best friend, she’ll know how to help me. I get my phone and call Destiny.

“Hey, how’s your dad?”

“He’s good, he’s good. He gave himself a bump on his head, which is thankfully nothing, and he sprained his wrist. I made him some meals to heat and eat. God bless the poor guy. I hope they’re edible.” We both spit out a chuckle.

“Oh that’s great to hear. I’m so glad he’s okay.” Her pitch shifts softer. “And, how’re you doing?”

“Well, I’m thoroughly and completely exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. But —”

“But?” Uplifted curiosity lifts her voice.

“I need your help.”

“Anything.”

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