Back The Cabin
Chapters (41)
  1. Cover
  2. Part I
  3. NDA
  4. ICU
  5. Magic; Lies
  6. Reunion; Observations
  7. Whisky & Women
  8. Whispers & Wine
  9. The Truth Will Out
  10. i love you, for the millionth time
  11. Part II
  12. 72 hours
  13. 7 days
  14. 14 days
  15. 18 days
  16. 21 days
  17. day unknown
  18. day unknown
  19. 30 days
  20. 33 days
  21. 90 days
  22. 120 days
  23. 210 days
  24. Part III
  25. Letters From The Dead, Part One
  26. Letters From the Dead, Part Two
  27. Resurrection
  28. Stars
  29. Coffee & Home Cooking
  30. Watercolors & John Denver
  31. One Little Thing At A Time
  32. Lie Just A Little Longer
  33. Kintsugi Heart
  34. Heart Work
  35. Too Right, Too Soon
  36. Learn me, Find You
  37. A Song Of Us
  38. The Art To Living
  39. A Note From Jasinda & Jack
  40. Sign Up!
  41. Also by Jasinda Wilder

It’s more. It’s deeper. Both innocent and indemnifying at the same time.

It’s putting the lie to THE END. It’s creating a possibility of AND THEN.

And I just don’t know how to reconcile the two.

I sit up in bed and twist on the bedside lamp and reach for the book.

At some point, I think you just have to jump. It’s hard and scary when you’re young, when your heart is new and fresh and unscarred. You’re risking so much, then. Trusting the virgin vulnerability of your precious, secret heart, and you have no guarantee how it’ll turn out. His POV. You dive in, headfirst, terrified. Wonder of wonders, it turns out more amazing than you could ever expect. Joy is such an effervescent thing, isn’t it? The giddy happiness of true love is the purest emotion a human can experience. That sacred falling, the majestic weaving of two lives, two souls, two personalities into a single entity…that, I believe, is the meaning of life. The big WHY.

And then it’s taken from you.

You hear those words, “I’m sorry, sir, but your wife didn’t make it. We did everything we could.”

And suddenly, you’re not you anymore. Your face looks back at you from the mirror and your hands are the hands that have sat at the ends of your wrists all these years of your life, but you’ve been scooped hollow by the vicious talons of Loss. And you’re not you.

You wallow. Grieve. Drown. Moving on is a joke, right? That’s for people who didn’t love the way you did.

But then. Oh, but then. You meet HER. And somehow, the sun might just be trying to peek out from behind the haze of storm clouds that have followed you. There just might be something like a tomorrow that doesn’t include barrels of whiskey just to be able to fake a semblance of humanity.

Only, how do you get past this mountain that is grief, that is sorrow? It’s insurmountable. You didn’t WANT to get past it, over it, under it, around it. You wanted it to just bury you and be done.

SHE makes you think maybe you’re not done. Not yet.

And what I’m coming to, what I’m realizing, is that you just have to jump.