Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Lynnea’s angry. She was throwing stuff in her room.”
“That’s okay too,” Nadia told Gemma. “I’m angry. Sad. Hurt. My heart is broken for you, your sister, Daddy, and me. Daddy didn’t want this.”
“The person who did this needs to die.”
As angry as Nadia was, she didn’t want that. Deep down, she knew this was an accident, an avoidable one. The person who hit Rafe would have to live the rest of their life knowing they’d killed someone.
“Then their mommy would be very sad. We don’t wish death on anyone, no matter how badly they hurt us.”
Gemma’s lower lip quivered. “Okay,” she said in a broken voice. Nadia pulled Gemma to herself and did her best to cradle her daughter without disturbing Lynnea. Nadia wept with her oldest and wondered how they were going to get through the next stage of their lives.
They lay there, waiting for Lynnea to wake up. Tragedy had struck their family, but Nadia and Gemma both knew waking Lynnea before she was ready was never a good thing. Instead, Nadia turned the television back on, chose a movie on one of the streaming platforms, and hunkered down in bed with Gemma.
Gemma laughed at the funny parts, which made Nadia happy, despite the heaviness she felt weighing on her chest. Sooner than she wanted, she would have to start making plans for Rafe’s funeral and figure out how to manage the household on one income. They had life insurance policies for each other, which Nadia never thought either of them would have to use. That paperwork could all go away until tomorrow or the next day. She didn’t want to take any time away from her babies.
When Lynnea finally woke, she complained about being hungry. Nadia could’ve sent her girls downstairs, where her parents would’ve taken care of them. Had she done that, her mother would’ve come upstairs and lectured her on how the girls needed their mother.
With a herculean effort, Nadia got out of bed. She started toward her bathroom, saw Rafe’s clothes, and immediately turned back into her room. Gemma and Lynnea watched her every move. Nadia would have to eventually walk through the closet to her bathroom—today wasn’t that day.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs.” She didn’t have to tell Lynnea twice. Gemma, on the other hand, eyed her mother warily. After she stopped to use the bathroom in the hallway, Nadia stood at the top of the stairs, questioning why she was out of bed. There were so many voices coming from the living room and kitchen. Mixing and mingling with each other. Dishware clanked against counters, chairs scraped against the hardwood floors, and the TV blared with the news.
“Are you staying up there?” Gemma asked from the bottom of the stairs.
Nadia shook her head and slowly made her way down. Gemma gripped her hand and led her mother into the madhouse that was the kitchen.
“Oh, honey. It’s good to see you up.” Her mother wore an apron Nadia didn’t remember owning. Nadia’s sister and Rafe’s sister sat in the breakfast nook where Nadia and the girls had shared their last meal with Rafe.
“Where’s Dad?”
“The men are in the other room, watching the news,” Sienna said. “Cleo’s in there as well.”
“I don’t want that on when the girls are in the room,” Nadia said to everyone there.
“Why?” Freya asked.
Nadia stared incredulously at her sister-in-law. Freya had to be kidding, right? Nadia looked from Freya to Gemma and Lynnea, and then shook her head.
“I don’t feel well. I’m going back upstairs.”
“Nadia, honey,” her mom started, but Nadia was already headed to the stairs. She felt Gemma staring at her each step she took, but she never turned around. Nadia didn’t need to see the disappointment on her daughter’s face.
No one prepares you for death. At least an unexpected death. Sure, if your loved one has a terminal illness, you can go to a support group or read a book about how to prepare. But there isn’t a manual on how to handle your grief, and the grief of others, when someone unexpectedly passes away.
No one prepares you for life after death. The things someone must do before they can properly grieve. The phone calls, paperwork, meetings—it’s a never-ending list of We need this, Give me that—all while you’re trying to come to terms with losing your husband, lover, father of your children . . . your best friend.
Rafe was gone, and to Nadia nothing would ever be the same. Not the way she slept, showered, dressed, or got ready in the morning. Her once shiny and vibrant hair, the color her husband loved so much, was dull and lifeless. Her once naturally rosy cheeks looked pale.
Nadia stared at herself in the mirror of the guest bathroom. Whatever she had to do today, she could do tomorrow or the next day. What would the morgue do with Rafe’s body if she didn’t make arrangements right away? Throw him away? The doctors had already cut a massive Y in his torso to remove his heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and whatever else they wanted. They piecemealed his body parts, spread them across the country to others. People who needed an organ to live, to restart their lives. The one Rafe needed couldn’t exist without its natural host.