I managed to open my eyes a crack, and I saw the most beautiful angel in the world—with deep blue eyes and deep, rich, long hair hanging around her perfect face. I could feel her touch on my cheek, and I had the most important realization I had ever had in my entire life.
It’s over.
“Rumple!” I cried out, and my arms found just enough strength to grab on to her and pull her against my chest. Her arms went around me, too, and she whispered into my ear.
“It’s okay, Thomas,” she said. “It’s okay—I’m here.”
I felt her turn slightly and tightened my grip.
“Don’t go!” I begged.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “Dad!”
I felt the slight pressure of fingers on the inside of my wrist.
“His heart’s beating really fast,” Greg murmured. “EMTs are on their way. Five minutes, tops.”
“What about…what about his dad?”
“Looks like he shot himself,” I heard Greg say.
“Oh my God,” Nicole said with a gasp. “Thomas…you’re okay. Help is on the way. Stay with me, okay?”
“Okay.”
I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her all around me.
“Thomas?” Greg’s voice again. “Thomas, did you…inject yourself with something?”
“Uh huh,” I mumbled back.
“What?” Rumple cried, her shock evident in her voice.
“What was it, Thomas?” Greg asked.
“Adrenaline…so I could…get up here…”
“Shit,” Rumple hissed. I felt her arms tighten around me, and I think I smiled a bit.
“Missed you,” I said, and I tucked my head against her shoulder and closed my eyes again.
“I love you, Thomas,” she responded. “It will all be okay now.”
“Love…too…”
Shakespeare had some interesting thoughts, as spoken though Richard II: “I have been studying how I may compare, this prison where I live unto the world.” Somehow, I thought things would be a little better from here on out.
Now I was free.
CHAPTER 30
RESTART
It was raining.
Drizzling, really—it wasn't hard enough to qualify as rain. It was still wet, and it made one of the wheels on my chair squeak a bit as I nervously shifted the chair forward and backwards. My eyes looked forward, blankly staring as the coffin containing Dad's body was slowly lowered into a giant hole next to Mom's grave.
Nicole was behind me with her fingers gripping the handles of the wheelchair, and Greg was just a few feet away, kind of watching me constantly. I wanted to be pissed about him hovering and being overly concerned, but I couldn't be. I wanted to be annoyed that Nicole was insisting on wheeling me around, but I couldn't be ticked off about that either because she was there—with me.