Before You - Page 69



HONEY LOOKED DOWN at her daughter who was sleeping in her arms. She couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. She had full, arched lips with the most stunning, longest lashes. Eyes that were bright and emerald.

She was the sweetest, most thoughtful little girl, and she made Honey and Andrew so rich in love and happiness. Even though she wasn’t made of their blood, she was a perfect mix of the both of them. She had Honey’s personality and Andrew’s intelligence. She loved to be outside, and she had a hearty appetite. To Honey, it felt like she had birthed this precious baby, that she’d felt every bit of growth within her tummy, the same way she had felt her son.

Her husband held little Andrew on the other side of the nursery, rocking that silly boy, who had finally calmed a few moments ago. On the evenings Andrew was home from work early enough, this was how they’d put their children to sleep. They would each have a child in their arms, nursery rhymes playing from a boom box on the dresser, and they would rock in their chairs, swaying back and forth until the babies fell asleep.

Once that happened, Honey and Andrew would have time for themselves.

“How was your shift?” Honey whispered from across the room.

“Someone brought in a goat.” He laughed and glanced down at little Andrew, making sure he didn’t wake up from the sound.

“Well, what happened?” Honey chuckled. She could be louder with their daughter since she could sleep through almost anything. “Did you treat the goat?”

“I’m happy to report, he now has a cast on his left leg.”

Honey burst out laughing much louder than before, knowing she was shaking the baby, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh my goodness.”

“I couldn’t turn the poor thing away. It was in pain.”

Honey stared at her husband, taking in his handsome, devilish grin. And as he gazed back, she was sure he didn’t see the spit-up on her shoulder or the banana smeared in her hair. He wasn’t turned off by the milk that dripped from her breasts when he cupped them during their intimate moments.

She loved him.

In a way that only he could understand because what they had was different.

They’d both known it from the very beginning.

“Andrew Paige,” she said so softly, but it was the loudest the emotion would let her speak, “you’re an incredible doctor, but you’re an even better daddy.”

SIXTY-SIX

BILLIE

I HELD the entire stack of pictures in my palm, and as I finished looking at one, I would set it on the desk and move to the next. Hands and faces and cheeks—I saw them all. And even though I looked at the photos every year, each time felt like the first.

Because seeing these snapshots was like replaying a period of my life that I’d never gotten to watch. And each time the reel spun, I would see something different. A detail I hadn’t captured before or one that was ready to reveal itself or one I wished so badly I could forget.

When I reached the last picture and my hands were empty, I was able to wipe my fingers over my face. I wasn’t surprised by how wet it was. This was what happened to me on May 20. Even though my family celebrated, we cried too.

Tears were a part of it, a messy side effect when you’d experienced what we had.

As I pulled my fingers away, I felt my phone vibrate, and I glanced down at my lap where I must have placed it. There was a text on the screen.

Jared: I miss you.

He always seemed to know when I needed him.

I just wished he had been able to come.

Still, I smiled, feeling the warmth of Jared’s words, and I turned my focus back to the desk, seeing the piles of photos and the medical records and the articles.

They were all of my life …

Before you.

I shook my head and collected all the photographs, putting them in a neat pile again. As I was sticking them back in the tote, I saw a small photo that was upside down on the plastic bottom, not part of the stack.

It never was.

I knew the picture well. I’d seen it as many times as all the others. It was always the last one I looked at right before I closed the lid on the box for another year.

I lifted the picture into my hand and stared at the face looking back at me.

At the eyes.

The lips.

Tags: Marni Mann Romance
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