But when my feet touch the wood floor, I don’t stand up. I just sit there, still sweating and breathing a little heavily.
“I just feel it.”
Cora’s voice sounds softly in my subconscious. I’ve been trying for three years to outrun the feelings, to stay ahead of them by focusing on something—anything—else.
They catch me, though. The feelings just wrapped themselves around me in a nightmare, the horror of losing my daughter seeping into my soul yet again.
I lie back down, kicking the covers away since I’m so hot. Clenching my fists at my sides, I close my eyes in the darkness and feel it.
“Mrs. Daniels, I’m afraid your husband and daughter have been in an accident.”
The phone call that made me jump off the couch and race into the kitchen in frantic search of my car keys.
“Chloe is alive, but her injuries are severe. We have to keep her in an induced coma for now.”
That first look at my tiny, helpless three-year-old lying in a hospital bed, dried blood matted in her hair and tubes running into her body for the machines to keep her alive.
“I’m so sorry, but it doesn’t look good. She’s not showing any brain activity.”
The endless tears I cried with my hand covering hers, still warm and alive even though my daughter was gone in every way that matters.
“Abby, can you sit down? Something’s happened to Tim and we need to talk to you about it.”
Realizing that my personal hell could actually get worse, and that I just became a widow hours before watching my daughter take her last breaths in this world.
“She’s gone.”
The agony that threatens to break me on a daily basis. Wishing with every fiber of my being that it could have been me instead of her.
I cry. Not because I can’t hold the tears back, like usual. This time I cry because I want to. I take the advice of a beautiful ten-year-old girl who’s been there. I just feel it.
After about ten minutes, the tears dry up. I turn to my good memories—Chloe’s enormous blue eyes as she blew out the candles on her third birthday cake. The time she got to pet a giraffe at the zoo. Our bedtime ritual of two stories followed by five kisses and five hugs.
Eventually, I fall back asleep. It’s the first time I’ve ever done that after a nightmare. And when the alarm sounds for my workout and I drag myself out of bed, I groan at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes not only have dark circles beneath them, they’re puffy and red, too. A shower helps soothe them slightly, but I can still feel how swollen they are on the trip to the gym.
As soon as Percy lays eyes on me, she lowers her brows and shakes her head. It’s the first time she’s seen me since she left my apartment the day after my breakdown in Chicago.
“Girl…I’m not sure you’re ready to be back.”
I smile. “I actually am.”
“You look like shit, Abby.”
“I know, but I need a good workout. Let’s do it.”
She tilts her head and gives me a hesitant look. I walk over to stand next to her.
“I lost my three-year-old daughter to a car accident three years ago,” I say softly. “And my husband to suicide at the same time.”
Percy’s expression morphs into shock and sadness. “Oh, Abby.”
I sniff, trying to clear the tears pooling in my eyes. “It’s horrible. I work so hard to fight feeling anything just so I can survive, but this morning…I didn’t. I felt the pain and cried, and now I’m here. And as crazy as it sounds given the way my face looks right now, I feel better than I have in a long time.”
Percy opens her arms and wraps them around me, enclosing me in a hug. A few more tears slip out as we embrace, but again, I don’t flight them.
“I’m proud of you,” Percy says. “I hope this means you’re going to try to give Luca a chance. He seems like a good guy from what I’ve seen.”
“He is, and…I am.”
She nods her approval. “Okay. How about some HIIT and pilates today? I’ll work out with you.”
We stretch to warm up and I think about the day ahead. Anthony sent me a comprehensive email about this morning’s board meeting that I reviewed on the plane last night. He’s always been a great assistant, but he stepped up in the couple weeks I took off. I’m excited about telling him later today that I’m giving him a bonus to thank him for his hard work.
On a water break, I wipe my face with a towel and look at Percy as she sips from her stainless steel water bottle. She’s absolutely stunning, not to mention smart and supportive. I imagine men flock to her, but she’s single.