“Are you telling me that my father already wanted to … kill himself? Before all that happened?”

“Yes, unfortunately …” She lets out an exasperated sigh. “He threatened suicide multiple times. Specifically when I had doubts about our relationship. I always thought it was just his way of keeping me in his life. That he was terrified I might leave him.”

“He blackmailed you into staying?” I mutter.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it that, but … your father was just emotionally damaged. I understand. I don’t hold any grudges. And neither should you.” She looks me deep in the eyes. “Stop blaming yourself. You’re not at fault here.”

“But …” I lick my lips.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I know I haven’t been the best stepmother in the world, but I really meant no harm. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just didn’t want you to have to see the sad truth. But please … don’t blame Chris. Yes, your father didn’t want to live anymore, and maybe what Chris did was the catalyst, but I already saw it coming. He said it so many times that I lost track. And I kind of lost the will to take him seriously.”

I’m stunned. So stunned, I don’t even know what to say.

“I’m sorry. If you want to blame someone, then blame me,” she says. “I should’ve taken action. I should’ve done something to stop him.”

“But you couldn’t, and he isn’t here anymore,” I mumble.

“Exactly.”

I blink away the tears in my eye. “I don’t blame you. I wanted my father to be happy, and he found love with you. I just wish it would have been enough for him.”

She cups my face and caresses my cheek. “My dear Emily … I wish things had gone differently, but life isn’t always fair.”

“I know …” I gaze down at the floor.

“Please don’t be mad anymore,” she says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Be happy. Be yourself. Don’t hold grudges, but love unconditionally. Your father would want that. He doesn’t want you to stay mad forever. He wants you to fall in love and live your life. I know that, in my heart, he’s watching you right now.”

“Yes,” I mutter, looking up at her. “Thank you.”

I truly mean it. For the first time in my life, it feels like the huge weight that was my father’s death has finally been lifted off my shoulders. Like I’ve been set free.

“Your father would be so proud of you seeing you like this,” she says, barely able to hold back her tears.

I nod, swallowing away mine. “Yeah …”

“Let’s hope he’ll also look over Chris,” she says with a smile.

We’re connecting on a level I’ve not experienced before, but it feels good. “I’m sure he is.”

Suddenly, the doors to the waiting room open.

My heart momentarily stops beating.

It’s news about Chris.

Chapter 35

Emily

“How is he?” I ask the doctor.

“Is my son okay?” Tricia asks, too.

I want to be by his side instead of listening to the doctor. But my feet manage to stay grounded. I don’t know for how long, though.

“He’s fine.”

A burden visibly falls from our shoulders as we both breathe out a sigh of relief.

“His lower leg bone needed to be reset, but other than that, his body absorbed the blow of the accident quite well.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. What about his leg? Can he walk?” Tricia asks.

“Not at the moment, but he will be able to in time, of course. He’ll wear a cast for now. He’ll need a wheelchair for some time, and then he’ll be able to walk with crutches. It’ll be a slow recovery, but I’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“As normal as Chris can be,” I muse, smiling like a lunatic.

I don’t know why I’m making stupid jokes at a time like this. Maybe I’m just excited to see him again, and relieved that he isn’t dead. God, I’m so glad he isn’t dead.

“No, he’s not dead.” The doctor laughs.

“Did I say that out loud?” My face turns crimson red. “Oops.”

“No worries. You can go visit him in a few minutes. They’re taking him up to room two hundred and eight.”

“Great.” I grin. “Let’s go then.” I grab Tricia’s hand and pull Alyssa up from the chair. “Thank you!” I shout back at the doctor who’s waving at us as I drag both of the ladies through the hallway like an idiot.

I’ve never been more happy to know I’m about to see Chris.

And, oh boy … when his mother sees us together, we’ll have some explaining to do, because I won’t be holding back anymore.

As we make our way up to his room, my nerves feel like they’re on fire, and my body is jittery to the point of bouncing up and down in the elevator. Everyone’s looking at me as if I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I’m just happy I get to see his stupid smile again. Just thinking about it already gets me all cheerful.

My breathing falters as I stand in front of his door. Tricia stares at me as if I’ve completely lost it.

“Let’s go inside,” she says, grabbing the handle.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t open the door, and so she did it instead.

I was still torn about what she had just said in the hallway, and only when I stood right in front of his room number did I realize that I’d have to talk to him about it. How I’ve blamed him for my father’s death, and how he, in turn, always felt guilty about it … even though it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

In silence, I walk after Tricia into the room. Chris is lying in bed with his foot hoisted up, stuck in bandages and some weird device. His eyes are half-mast, and when he looks up at us, that stupid grin I recognize and I have learned to love comes out to play again.

“Christopher!” Tricia says.

“Hey,” he mutters.

She hugs him tight. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Mom,” he gasps, groaning. “You’re crushing me.”

“Oh, sorry,” she mutters, and she gets off him.

With a tentative smile, I close the gap between the door and his bed, my heart racing in my throat. I can’t believe he’s really here right in front of me, when moments ago I thought I might lose him for good. The thought alone drove me insane, and realizing that now, I think he means more to me than I first dared to admit.

“Hey …” he says as he sees me.

Flushing, I push a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Hey.”

Tricia steps back to allow me to come closer, while Alyssa stays near the door.

I walk to him and grab his hand, feeling his warmth enter my body like a fire setting the last remnants of the tangles around my heart ablaze.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“Ahh, I’ve been through worse,” he says with a cough that makes him cringe.

Muffling a laugh, I say, “Well, you’ve looked much worse, too.”

“Thanks, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” I jest. “You scared us all there.”

“Oh, really?” He opens one eye and closes the other. “And here I thought you could handle everything with your PR background.”

I shrug. “This is different.”

“Hmm …” He squeezes my hand, which sends tingles all through my body. The looks we exchange are intense, and in his eyes, I find the regret and sorrow we’ve both been feeling for the past few years. The bad feelings have dissipated, and with it, so has my anger. And at this moment, I can feel the bonds that squished my heart and kept me from loving him unravel and disappear.

Tears well up in my eyes and his other hand drifts up to cup my face and wipe away the tear. “It’s okay.”

“I know …” I mumble.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “I made you a promise, remember? I’ll be damned if I break it.”

Those words make me fall apart right in his arms.

I curl up against his body, letting my head rest on his chest. I listen to his heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of his chest as his breaths flow in and out of his lungs, cherishing every second. “I forgive you,” I whisper to him.

I look up at him with teary eyes to see him smile at me, his hand placing mine over his heart. A little squeeze and a nod are all that’s needed. No words are necessary to explain what we both feel.