Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 44

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"Agreed," Pax says as he settles into a chair in the living room and closes his eyes. "I'm so fricking tired, Mad. Your niece was up a lot last night."

I shake my head, taking in his exhausted face. "Go ahead and rest. I'll watch the baby till Mila gets out."

"You're the best," he breathes, settling in for a nap.

I leap from my seat and hug Pax tightly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"No, you are," I whisper to him. "You really are. Thank you for taking such good care of my sister."



"I don't know where that came from, but you're welcome." He pats my back and as he does, Mila comes in, toweling off her hair.

"Geesh, guys. Get a room." She rolls her eyes, then grins at me. "Did you come to babysit so I can take a nap?"

The hopeful tone in her voice makes me laugh. "I came to tell you something, but sure, I can stay for a while to watch the baby."

Mila looks curious. "What do you want to tell me?"

I motion to the sofa. "Can you sit?"

Mila looks worried, but does as I ask. When we're facing each other, I pick up her hands.

"Mi, I know that after Mom and Dad died, we couldn't bring ourselves to give up the Hill. I came home to run it and I think I've done a pretty good job." I pause and she nods, hesitant. Pax looks knowing, like he's guessed what I'm going to say.

"But I can't do it anymore, Mila. I feel like I'm living someone else's life. Even though I completely renovated the cottage, it still feels like I've stepped into Mom and Dad's life and taken it over. I've got to have my own. Do you understand?"

She nods slowly. "I do. I definitely do. But what are you saying? What do you want to do?"

I take a deep breath. "I want to sell the Hill. And I want to sell the cottage. I'm thinking... and I know this might seem crazy, but I think I might want to move to Hartford and open up a restaurant there. It turns out that I'm pretty good at running one. But I just can't do it here. There's too many memories... Dad, Mom, Tony. I just... I can't. Do you hate me?"

Mila throws her arms around my neck, practically smothering me. "Of course not! You're going to move to Hartford with us? You'd do that? Oh my G.o.d. I'm so glad. I would've missed you so much."

My eyes well up. "I know. I just need a fresh start. A new life. But I don't want to do that too far away from you."

She sniffles and I sniffle and Pax throws his arms around both of us, smas.h.i.+ng us both together.

"Everything's gonna be all right, Maddy," Mila tells me, tearfully. But they're happy tears now, thank G.o.d. "It really is."

I nod. "I know. I really think it is."

Pax finally lets go of us and they stand up.

"Are you sure you don't mind watching Madelyn for a bit?" Mila asks, covering up a yawn.

I shake my head. "Of course not. I'm going to be her favorite aunt."

"You're her only aunt," Pax points out. But the effect is lost because he yells it over his shoulder as they practically sprint to their bedroom to nap.

I have to chuckle at that. I've always heard stories of sleep-deprived parents, but having seen it firsthand, I know how desperate they are for sleep.

Madelyn actually falls asleep shortly after they do, which I find ironic. I hold her for a long time as she naps, just breathing in her sweet baby smell, and pondering everything that's happened over the past couple of weeks.

I miss Tony. I miss him every day. But Maria is doing OK and Sophia went back to school. They're doing as well as they can, and time will continue to heal them. And the rest of us.

Maybe everything really will be OK.

On a warm summer evening, I come home from meeting with a realtor about selling the Hill to find Gabe sitting at the dining room table, a piece of paper in his hands and a strange look on his face.

"What?" I ask curiously. "What's wrong?"

He looks at me. "Do you remember me telling you that when I was in CPT, I wrote a letter to Ara Sahar's parents? It was the therapist's idea and I went along with it. I didn't really expect much to come out of it because h.e.l.l-I didn't even know if her parents were still alive. But the army had it translated into Arabic and they located her parents. They answered me." He holds up the paper.

I can't read his face, it's entirely expressionless.

"Can I see it?" I ask hesitantly, almost afraid to look.

He nods, handing it to me, and I glance down at the wrinkled letter.

Dear Lieutenant Vincent, Thank you very much for your recent letter.

At first I did not know how to respond because our hearts have been so very broken, into a million tiny pieces. But you are a soldier who came here to help people like me and children like Ara, and so I thought you must surely deserve an answer.

Even though putting this pen to this paper hurts my heart, there are several things you should know.

You should know that it wasn't your fault that my Ara was taken. My country has been torn apart by terrible things, evil things, none of which are your fault or your making. Each day, I would wake, afraid that that day would be the day when something would hurt Ara. Now that it is finally done, I no longer must worry. Nothing can harm her anymore. She's in Allah's arms now, safe and warm.

You should know that even in the midst of terrible evil, good flourishes, even still. You are good. You rose above the evil here and fought hard for good. Ara knew that. She used to watch the US soldiers pa.s.s and she would say to me, "They're here to protect us, Mama." She saw that in you. She saw that in all of you.

Lieutenant Vincent, you should know that you did not take my daughter from me. Even the evil here did not take her from me because she is not really gone. She is still my daughter and I am still her mama. Love is deathless, you see. And one day, I will be with her again. I will breathe in her hair and her sweet smell and she will smile at me and then I will be whole again. Someday.

Lieutenant Vincent, you should know that Ara does not blame you. I know that with every breath that is left in me. That is not who my daughter was, that is not who she is. She would wish you nothing but peace. Please do not weep for her. Ara is with angels. I think she is watching over you now, just as you watched over her when you were here. Even if you didn't know it, or her, you fought for her.

She knew that.

Lieutenant Vincent, you should know that you cannot hate yourself any longer. It was not your fault. You must forgive yourself.

Lieutenant Vincent, you should know that I have forgiven you.

May peace be upon you, Pashka Sahar My breath freezes in my throat as tears fall down my cheeks.

She doesn't blame Gabriel. Even through her veil of overwhelming grief, she has forgiven him.

In my head I picture a little Afghan girl and her grieving mother and all I can do is sit and marvel at Pashka Sahar's beautiful spirit amid all the ugliness around her. I read her words again and my heart breaks a little bit more with every word.

"She forgives you, Gabe," I tell him softly. "Now you have to forgive yourself. It's time."

Gabe opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and lowers his head onto his arms on the table.

Then he weeps.

After everything we've been through, I've never seen Gabriel cry.

It breaks my heart and everything from the past few months seems to crash down around us as I pad across the floor and pull him into my arms and onto the floor with me. I cradle him in my lap and let him cry.

I know it's not just the letter that he is crying over. It's everything. It's Ara Sahar, it's Mad Dog, it's his old life that he has lost, it's the heavy guilt that he has carried. It's all of it.

It's everything that he has never let himself properly grieve for.

"Shhhh," I soothe him, stroking his back. "It's OK. Let it go, Gabe. Even the strongest cry. A smart person told me that once."

I stroke his strong arms with my fingers, tracing each line and muscle until finally he falls silent and turns over, staring up at me.

I dip my head to press my lips against his.

"You're a hero, Gabe," I tell him. "You really are. You don't need to carry this anymore. No more guilt, no more sadness. Like Pashka said, you couldn't have prevented it. Ara wouldn't want you to carry this burden anymore."

He flips over and pulls me into his arms.

"I love you, Madison Hill," he tells me. "I've never cried before. I should be embarra.s.sed, but I'm not. I love you for not judging my weakness."

"You're not weak, Gabe," I answer softly. "You're far, far from weak. You're one of the reasons why normal people like me sleep well at night. It's because we can. You face danger so that we don't have to. Even little Ara knew that. You think that you're a bad thing, but you're not. You protect the rest of us from bad things. You're bada.s.s and lethal and scary, and you're as far from weak as you can get. You're a protector, Gabe. My protector."

He looks stunned, then satisfied. "Thank you," he says quietly.

I nod and we just sit in silence for a while.

Nothing more really needs to be said. Everything hangs in the air around us, reverent and beautiful and strong. Words aren't needed for us to feel it.

Eventually we get off the floor and drink a bottle of wine, quietly enjoying each other's presence before we finally head to bed.

As we lie in the quiet darkness, emotionally drained and tired, Gabe finally speaks.

"Maddy, I've been thinking about something. I don't want to go to Hartford with things as they are."

Every ounce of my being freezes with his words.

"You don't?" I manage to get out.

He shakes his head. "No. We've been through so much s.h.i.+t, Maddy. To h.e.l.l and back, actually. I don't want to move to Hartford with you as my girlfriend. I want to move there with you as my wife."

The world stops again, like it has a hundred times since I met him.

I stare at him in the dark, my hand limp on his chest.

"You do?" My voice is a whisper.

"I do," he tells me. "Maddy, I know you're probably scared of marriage because of your parents'. But I can promise you that ours would be as different from theirs as night and day. I will love you every day of my life. Anything that wants to hurt you will have to come through me to do it. Fear is a choice, Maddy. Don't be afraid of this. Marry me. Please."

My answer is instant. I don't even have to think about it.

"Yes," I breathe. "I want to marry you."

"Thank G.o.d," he mutters as he pulls me to him. "I didn't know how else I was going to convince you if you said no."

I laugh, tracing my fingers along his face, his jaw, his neck.

"And you really don't mind moving to Hartford with me?" I ask, for the fourteenth time this week.

"Maddy, I would go anywhere with you."

His arms tighten around me and I hear the thrumming of his heart, solid and loud. I whisper loud enough that he can hear me over the crash of the lake outside.

"Don't leave me tonight, Gabe. Stay with me all night."

Out of habit he startles at the thought, but then he relaxes and finally nods.

A thrill runs through me at his words.

"You know what? Maybe it's time. We can't get married if we can't even sleep together, right?"

Relief floods through me.

"It's definitely time," I tell him. I relax, fitting into him perfectly. "But we're getting married either way." He chuckles and I drift toward sleep, enjoying the sense of security and love that washes over me in Gabe's arms.

As sleep overtakes me, I know that I'll never want to be anywhere else more than I want to be right here with him.

Not ever.

The night pa.s.ses peacefully.

When I wake in the morning with the sun in my face, I turn to Gabe and find him watching me, his s.e.xy dark eyes thoughtful.

"Did you dream?" I ask nervously. He grins, the slow grin that I love, the one that spreads from his lips to his eyes as he shakes his head.

"Not one nightmare. I think maybe I've kicked that demon's a.s.s after all."

I reach for him, pulling him to me, enjoying the way his body covers mine. One thing is certainly true, this man is my own personal hero.

As I look into his eyes and see the promises that linger there, I can't help but think about another truth.

Fear really is a choice.

And we both faced ours and won.

There's nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 44

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Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 44 summary

You're reading Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 44. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Courtney Cole already has 549 views.

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