Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“I’m here, Pip.” I lean down and sweep my lips over her forehead in a barely-there kiss. “Come back to me.”
I repeat those same four words, over and over, begging her—the universe, right along with anything or anyone that may be listening—for her to wake up.
Right as I lower myself back down into my chair, she gasps, her fingers clutching at mine.
“Nora?” I scramble back to my feet, trying my best to give her space as not to overwhelm her.
She opens her mouth as if she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out. Panic flares behind her eyes as she clutches her throat.
She wants to say something, but the torment Rand put her through bruised her vocal cords. “Take your time, Pip.” I brush my knuckles over her cheekbone. “Want some water?”
She nods fervently, wincing slightly as I grab the jug from Ellis’s outstretched hand.
“Go slow,” I murmur, bringing the straw to her lips.
I watch her throat work as she swallows down several sips, her eyes never once leaving mine, and the look of pain and worry never once lessening.
“Ja-James,” she rasps. “How’s James?”
My brows pinch together as I try to make sense of what she’s asking me.
“Who… who’s James, Pip?” I ask, proud as hell when my voice doesn’t betray the confusion rushing through me. “Whoever he is, I’ll find—”
“Our son,” she cries, her eyes filling with tears. “He’s our son. I—I met him.”
Ellis clears his throat, undoubtedly asking me whether or not I think she’s okay.
“You met him?” I ask, making sure to keep my tone even. “When?”
She tries to nod, her tear-soaked eyes begging me to believe her. “And our daughter—Lydie Grace—I met them both, Atlas, and they’re perfect.” Her entire body trembles as she tries to sit up. “Please tell me he’s okay. Please?”
Every hair on my body stands on end as the full impact of her words hits me. James after her dad and Lydie Grace after both of our mothers, my God. They couldn’t be any more perfect. She couldn’t be any more perfect.
I’ve heard people can have all sorts of out-of-body experiences after trauma, so maybe that’s what this is.
Either way, her comfort—both physical and mental—is all that matters right now.
“Our jellybean—James—he’s fine. Perfectly healthy and perfectly safe.”
“You mean it?” The fragile thread of hope weaving itself through her words is almost enough to break me. How she can sound so broken and so resilient all at once, is a mystery to me. One thing I do know is I’ll do any and everything within my power to nurture that hope.
“Yeah, Pip. I mean it.” I turn my attention to Ellis, and ask, “Why don’t you step out and let them know she’s awake so the doctor can come in and tell her herself?”
“On it.” Ellis immediately stands and heads for the door, pausing on the threshold. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
He gives her a long look and then nods once before stepping out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him, giving us some much-needed privacy.
CHAPTER 45
NORA
“You believe me, right?” I ask, trying my best to keep my lower lip from wobbling. I know how out there it sounds. I really do, but I also mean it with every ounce of my soul.
“Nora.” Atlas’s voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it, and perfectly neutral, giving absolutely nothing away. For all I know, he thinks this is all some kind of messed up trauma response.
But I've never been more certain about anything in my life. Not ever.
When I first woke up, sure, I was disoriented. I didn't understand the enormity of what I’d witnessed, but as I regained consciousness, I also gained clarity, and there’s no convincing me that it was only a dream.
Because it was more. So much more.
It was a glimpse into our future.
A future I'm desperate to protect.
“It was so real, Atlas,” I croak, clutching at my tender throat. There’s not a single part of me that doesn’t ache. From the tippy-top of my head, all the way down to my toes, I’m stiff and sore, like my body’s been put through a meat grinder.
But I grin and bear it as I force myself into a seated position. I need to look him in the eye… I need him to understand just how serious I am.
“Nora, whoa.” Atlas is up and at my side in a second, one hand at my back bracing me as I find a semi-comfortable position. “Go slow, Pip.”
I allow him to fuss over me for a minute, knowing it’s something he needs to reassure himself that I’m truly here and okay.
But my mind wanders as he fluffs my pillow and tucks the blankets around me, thinking of all the ways I can convince him to believe me.
My mama was never one to buy into this woo-woo kind of stuff, as she called it, but my dad—he always did. He said life was full of unexplained phenomena, and if we simply trusted our gut, we’d always end up where we’re meant to be.