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)
Kiran had lost Rafe too. The hug was bone crushing and necessary. They wept together.
“Thank you for coming,” she said into his suit jacket.
“I’m where I need to be, Nadia.”
Kiran crouched in front of Gemma and Lynnea. “If you or your mom need anything, you call me. Got it?”
The girls nodded.
“I’m still your uncle, no matter what.” He pulled them into his arms and hugged them. Nadia couldn’t watch, not without losing it.
She wouldn’t cry. Not today, and not in front of people she didn’t know.
Today, she’d be the strong wife of Rafe Karlsson.
Nadia watched Kiran make his way through the line and then mingle with her parents. He caught her staring and smiled. Somehow, amid the heartache, she found the strength to smile back.
Her best friend, Hazel Pittman, came with her daughter, Hayden, who was the same age as Lynnea. The girls were close. Besties, according to Lynnea. When Aida McGee, Gemma’s best friend, came in, the “oh my Gods” made Nadia’s eyes roll. Eight-year-old girls didn’t always know how to express themselves very well and often mimicked others, especially those from the television shows they watched.
After coworkers and friends had made it through, Nadia saw nothing but a sea of blue. The police, fire, and ambulance departments had come to honor Rafe. She knew they’d be there tomorrow, leading the procession, but had no idea they would be at the wake. When Luca DeMarco, the officer who’d helped and stayed with her on that fateful day, stepped in front of Nadia, he said the standard “I’m sorry for your loss.” She surprised not only him but herself when she hugged him. She would be forever grateful to him for being there for her when she needed someone.
“Thank you.”
Strangers came to pay their respects to a man they didn’t know but had felt something for. Each person shook her hand and told her how sorry they were. A few said they had run with Rafe during previous races or rowed with him on the Charles.
After the last person had left, Nadia once again sat in the room with Rafe. This time, candles burned around her, the sky had darkened, and she was physically exhausted. She knelt on the steps and rested her chin on her hands. Rafe would’ve hated the attention he’d received today and would’ve said something about how he didn’t deserve it. But he had. He was loved by many, and that was evident in the volume of people who’d come to pay their respects.
For the last time until she saw him again, she ran her fingers through his hair. In her mind, it would be forever messy. She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you.”
A throat clearing had her looking over her shoulder. The funeral director stood there, poised with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Would you like his ring and watch now?” he asked her.
Nadia nodded. She reached for Rafe’s hand and slipped his wedding ring off, unable to recall a time he had ever not worn it since the day she’d set it on his finger. Next, she unclasped his watch and slipped it over her wrist. They would’ve given them to her tomorrow, but now was better.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” the director told her. “The limo will pick you up and bring you here, and we’ll start the procession from here.”
“Thank you.”
Tomorrow, the family limo would follow a police detail as they made their way through the city to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, where her husband would be honored.
Six pallbearers would carry an empty casket to the front of the church, where Rafe’s family and friends would stand in front of pews filled with people, some he’d known and some there in honor of him and in support of his wife and children. Speeches would be read, telling everyone who wanted to listen about the man who’d been taken from them.
When the service concluded, Nadia would walk down the aisle, with a daughter on each side, while her husband’s empty casket left the church.
And then, she’d start over.
If she could figure out how.
TWELVE
GRAYSON
Grayson sat on the edge of the bed in the doctor’s office. While he waited for the cardiologist to come in, he played on his phone. More so, he thought this was the time to look random things up on his phone, like if the bed he sat on was really called a “space saver cabinet treatment table.” The next search was something he’d put off, thinking he was suave enough to figure it out on his own, but had failed miserably at, and that was romancing Reid. He’d been naive enough to think that asking her out on a date—which hadn’t happened yet—would be enough to show her he was interested. Of course, he understood her hesitation. Hell, if the roles were reversed, he’d keep the cement wall up between them and throw away any tools she had for a possible teardown. Grayson had to find a way to let her know he was serious about the date and dating, because his subtle hints had continued to fall flat.