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Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Half Title Page
  3. Books by Katie Powner
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Dedication
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. THIRTY-FIVE
  42. THIRTY-SIX
  43. THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. THIRTY-EIGHT
  45. THIRTY-NINE
  46. FORTY
  47. FORTY-ONE
  48. FORTY-TWO
  49. FORTY-THREE
  50. FORTY-FOUR
  51. FORTY-FIVE
  52. FORTY-SIX
  53. FORTY-SEVEN
  54. FORTY-EIGHT
  55. FORTY-NINE
  56. FIFTY
  57. FIFTY-ONE
  58. FIFTY-TWO
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. About the Author
  61. Back Ads
  62. Back Cover

No one had ever told her marriage would be this hard.

“I need you to choose me.”

Tears fell from the corner of her eye onto his hand. She’d married him, hadn’t she? Yet it seemed like that wasn’t enough, and she wasn’t sure why. If her mom were here, she would understand. She would tell Bea what she was supposed to do. But Bea was alone. Grandma June was in the hospital. Dad and Grandpa Rand had left Bea to take care of herself. Mom was dead. Bea had only Jeremy, and she didn’t know how to tell him about the turmoil in her heart.

If he would ask her again if she was okay, just one more time, she would say no. Admit that she was afraid and unsure and ask for help.

But he didn’t.

TWENTY-EIGHT

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I’m calm now, apparently. That’s what everyone says when they come in the room and see me lying here like an infant. “She’s so calm.” As if I can’t hear them. As if it’s some sort of miracle that I’m not flailing around in a tizzy. Well, maybe it is.

Rand’s hound-dog face is enough to make me wonder if there’s something they’re not telling me. He just sits there looking sad, patting my hand and saying he’s sorry. I don’t know what he’s sorry about. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s got everybody worked up. I slide one hand under my covers and search for a pocket, but whatever I’m wearing’s got none.

My body aches from this bed. They tell me I’ve been lying here since yesterday afternoon, so I guess that explains that. I don’t remember being here yesterday afternoon. I just remember waking up this morning and my eyes bugging out when I saw Rand sleeping in an ugly gray chair next to me. He never has liked us being too far apart. Over the years, if he had to drive somewhere, he always insisted I go along. I never minded.

Then Mitch came waltzing into the room without even knocking, all astonished to see me looking at him. Not long after that, a doctor came in talking in some sort of cryptic language. It’s been a couple hours now, and I’ve had about as much of this—whatever this is—as I can take.

“Where’s Bea?” I ask.

Mitch is messing with his phone, but he looks up when he hears me speak. “She’s at home. Resting.”

Resting? “Is she okay?”

“Yeah.” Mitch exchanges a look with Rand. “She’s fine. Just a little tired after your ordeal yesterday.”

My ordeal? That sounds awfully dramatic. “What happened?”

He gives Rand that same look again. Mylanta.