Prologue

PROLOGUE

Holly

I stared down at Devin, unable to recognize the man who left our house earlier in the day. Glancing at the doctor, I asked, “You said he was involved in an accident?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the doctor replied. “Even wearing his helmet, he has sustained significant injuries.”

I nodded because I couldn’t see one place on his body that wasn’t bandaged, stitched, or horrifically bruised. His head was wrapped in gauze as he had undergone surgery to stop a brain bleed. I’m sure there’s a medical term that’s more appropriate but considering what I know of medicine comes from the shows I’m addicted to when I have the time to watch, anything the doctor said using those terms went in one ear and out the other.

“Will he recover?” I questioned.

My mind was going a mile a minute right now. We weren’t married, just engaged, but we had two little girls who adored their daddy. I couldn’t let them see him like this; it would terrify them unnecessarily as far as I was concerned. However, if there was a chance he might not make it, then I’d bring them up here to see him, and Devin’s mother could just stick a sock in her mouth.

The doctor shrugged before he said, “The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be the most critical. He’s young, which will go a long way in helping him recover. Still, as I previously stated, his body has taken a massive blow.”

I nodded again, because aside from the brain bleed, they had to remove his spleen due to internal bleeding, and several bones were broken. While they required surgery as well to repair the fractured damage, the doctors had opted to wait for a few days.

“Thank you,” I softly replied.

A shrill voice broke through, coming closer to where the doctor and I were standing next to Devin’s bed. “I need to know how he is, Samuel. She’s in there, after all. Why can’t I be there too? I’m his mother .”

I took in a few deep breaths as I prepared to see Devin’s mother, Myra. She had never liked me in all the years that Devin and I had been together. How on earth a woman could instantly detest a thirteen-year-old girl who had braces and flyaway hair was beyond me, but that was Myra.

As she flounced into the room, her husband right behind her, I saw him give me a pained look and knew she was geared up for a scene. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case might be, I was prepared to return her bitchiness with a bit of my own.

Devin chose to ride his bike when the weather conditions were iffy at best. Devin decided he just had to run to the store to grab more of his precious beer , so he wouldn’t listen to me when I told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. Devin was the one who was going too fast and hydroplaned into oncoming traffic, then went airborne before sliding across the pavement. So, as far as I was concerned, Devin, her precious, can never do anything wrong son, was reaping what he sowed.

“Samuel, Myra,” I said, keeping my thoughts to myself while extending the barest courtesy possible. At least, to her. Samuel, on the other hand, was a kind, compassionate man, whose expression apologized for whatever was about to come out of his wife’s despicable mouth.

“Why didn’t you force him to stay home?” Myra hissed, coming up to the bed. Somehow, she was simultaneously glaring at me while cataloging the injuries her son had sustained. It was obviously a superpower she received when she became Satan’s mistress.

Truly, I never understood why Samuel remained married to her. They were beyond polar opposites in every way imaginable. Whereas he was welcoming toward me way back in the day, she has always been snarky and downright mean, brutal with her words and mentality toward me. He loves our daughters, and often drops by just to see them and spend time with them. Myra, on the other hand, barely tolerates my girls, and excludes them from as much as possible when compared to what she does for her other grandchildren.

“Because your son is a grown adult, Myra,” I replied, keeping my tone even and monotone. “He was well-aware of the weather conditions and could’ve taken the truck, but he decided he wanted to take his bike instead.”

Left unsaid, but simmering overhead, was my opinion about the situation. While I’m glad he has, for the time being anyhow, survived the accident, every cut, stitch, contusion, and road rash was a direct result of his own stupidity. Not mine. Not the other driver who he ended up forcing off the road in order not to actually hit him head-on. Not the wintry weather conditions. Nope, Devin’s the catalyst and the one at fault.

“You should’ve stopped him anyhow,” she sneered, lightly touching Devin’s bruised and battered face.

I shrugged, already tired of the push and pull that our relationship was nowadays. It had always been that way if I was being completely honest with myself. I was just too young and naive to recognize it when I was a mere teenager.

“It’s okay, Mina,” I coaxed as my daughter hesitated next to where her father was lying still and unmoving in the hospital bed.

Two days had passed since the accident, and the doctor wasn’t holding out a lot of hope that Devin would survive. Against Myra’s wishes, I opted to bring Mina and Ruby to the hospital to say goodbye to their daddy. While they were young, I felt they needed to see him since the last time they had, he was sitting at the dinner table eating supper. Shortly after they had gone to bed, he had decided he couldn’t either wait until the next day or take the truck to go get a case of beer.

“Daddy’s really hurt bad,” my five-year-old whispered, her hand clutched in mine.

“Yes, he is, sweetie,” I murmured, as I watched her reach out her hand to lightly touch his. “Remember what I told you girls, right?” I asked, looking down at Ruby to see she was now touching him as well.

Secretly, I had hoped hearing their voices might help somehow. Instead, the monitors never fluctuated at all, the incessant beeping almost soothing despite the severity of the situation.

“Daddy’s going to go to Heaven, right, Mama?” Ruby asked, her bright blue eyes peering up at me.

“Yeah, baby, he is,” I replied, sadness coursing through me.

“But you’re not, right?” Mina questioned, her gaze never leaving her father’s face.

“Sweetpea, I can’t promise anything because only God knows what the future holds, but I will say this much. I will always do my absolute best to be right here, taking care of you girls, okay? And if I’m not, then Pappy and Grammy will be there, as well as Aunt Rita.”

Without warning, a shrill alarm comes from the machine and the room fills with medical personnel. A nurse quickly escorts the girls and I out of the room as they begin performing life-saving measures on Devin. As we settle into a chair in the waiting room, both girls now in my lap, I send up a quick prayer that he’s not suffering. We may have been at a crossroads in our relationship, but I still have eight years of good memories, although the two in my lap right now are the best of them all.

“I’m so sorry, Holly,” Samuel murmured. “But with y’all not being married, we need to sell the house in order to pay for the hospital bills.”

“It’s okay, Samuel,” I replied. “I kind of figured that’s what would happen under the circumstances.”

The sad thing about it all, was that I was prepared to be evicted from the house that the girls and I lived in with Devin after he passed away. Myra had let it slip during the funeral that I best get on with packing up my bags because she wasn’t going to allow me to live there much longer. I’m just surprised it took her six months to kick us out. So, since I was somewhat forewarned, I had been doing a massive purge, taking all of mine and the girls’ extra things and storing them in the barn on my grandparents’ farm.

“It’s not right, Holly,” he insisted as he clenched his fists at his sides in irritation. “Tried telling Myra that we’d figure out something else to pay the bills off.”

I touched his arm and replied, “That would’ve never happened, Samuel. For whatever reason, I’ve never been good enough for her son and she’s always made that more than evident. It’s okay, I promise. Pappy got a good deal on a mobile home and he and his buddies have been getting it ready for us. Me and the girls will be just fine, I promise. And just saying, you’ll always be welcome to come see them.”

Left unspoken, of course, was the fact that as far as I was concerned, Myra could burn in the pits of Hell. How dare she throw her own grandchildren out of the only home they’d ever known?

“You can count on it,” he promised, leaning in to hug me. “Take care of yourself, Holly.”

“I will, Samuel, I will.”