With a gasp, I fell back against the door of the bathroom, stunned. Had he written this all for me?

Chapter Forty-Two

Adam

It was almost midnight when I fell back against the pillow of my bed and opened Emilia’s journal to read what she had written to me. I had to admit, I was both curious and a little scared of what I’d see there. And I also wondered if, at this very moment, she was reading the messages I’d left for her…

Dear Adam,

This evening, I am furious with you. I won’t lie. I write this with a hand that’s shaking with rage and tears of anger in my eyes. Because today you sent me away. You gave up. And let me tell you that makes me so pissed off at you right now. Was this just your way of getting back at me for what I did to you last year? Because I’ve been in a hell of my own making and you didn’t need to create a new one for me…

I leaned forward, tensing. This didn’t look good…I flipped through a few pages idly, hoping the entire thing wasn’t full of the same hurt and anger. I didn’t know how I could bring myself to read that. With no small fear, I flipped back to that first page and forced myself to read every word she had written. Wasn’t this what I’d wanted—what we’d both wanted? Open, honest communication.

I grabbed my reading glasses off the nightstand because I felt a headache coming on and I’d taken to using the damn things in the hopes that they’d ward off the headaches. But I had a feeling that the real pain that would come from reading these pages wouldn’t be in my head.

…How can I not feel guilty for what I did? Every breath I take, every day that I live comes from the lifetime that I stole from the person our child would have been. And I had no choice but to do it. My choice was robbed from me.

I closed my eyes and rubbed them through the lids with my thumb and forefinger. With a shaky breath I willed myself to keep reading.

…Tonight as I was undressing for bed, I took time to study the scars and tattoo marks on my body. I studied them as if looking at them for the first time, through your eyes. They repulse me, but not for vain reasons. Not just for the permanent mark of imperfection, but because of what they represent. It’s not just the scar on my flesh but a reminder of the way I wounded us. And like the one on my body, I’m reminded that that wound will never go away. I did this. I broke us…

…Part of me fears—no, scratch that—most of me fears that one day, when it becomes important to you, when you realize that I may not be able to give you a child, I’ll lose you.

Dear Adam,

You once told me to put the burden on your shoulders. But it never occurred to me that you had taken all that on—and more. And in so doing, it had become an impossibly heavy load. How can one couple—even with all the love in the world—survive such a thing? We are broken, it’s true, and not all that’s broken can be fixed…

Dear Adam,

Today I had a long talk with Heath in the barn. He wanted to know what was going on with you and me. And, really, since I’d dragged him into this kicking and screaming, I felt I owed him an explanation. So there I was trying to explain, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. I had no explanation. We did things wrong. We made mistakes. Big mistakes. I did. And you did. We did this. And I lie here tonight wondering if we can ever get past this. Do you want to?

…And then I started to think about that goddamn bucket list and that night I’d forced you to sit down and write it when you were worried out of your mind about me. But you did—you wrote down everything I asked you to write down. I don’t remember a thing about that, but I can’t stop thinking about how unfair that was…

…And as I sit here making this new list…the thing that overwhelms me is the desire to do it all with you. Because if it’s not with you, then it’s not worth doing. What do you think? Anything to add?

My New Bucket List

● Find something to laugh at, every day

● Remember all the things I’m thankful for every day

● Remember all the people I love

● Remember all the people who love me

● Know in my heart that I can’t do this alone.

Dear Adam,

Tonight I’m missing you so badly that I almost called you on the phone, even if it meant just listening to your voicemail message. God, it hurts so bad that I ache with it. I just need to hear your voice. I just want to feel your arms around me. So tight. Tight, tight hugs.

…When I first met you, you intimidated the hell out of me. I didn’t know what to make of you but you fascinated me anyway. You saw things. You knew things. You noticed and you cared. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, wanting to know more. Everything was so thrilling and new then. The rush of fresh, new love. It was like a drug that I was addicted to.