My Forever (Ridge Lane #1)

My Forever (Ridge Lane #1)

By Kristina Brand

Prologue

Two months ago

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?!” My mother’s voice trembles from behind the bedroom door where I clutch my favorite Cabbage Patch doll, Lucy, given to me by Nana Mabel. Surely, this is just another argument. Daddy wouldn’t leave me and Mama. He said he loves me…

“George, please don’t go! I know you think you like her, but it’s just a phase.

You have a life here. You have a daughter.

You have me. What happened to your promise to love me till the end?

I can find a way to forgive you for screwing her behind my back…

Please, hun, we can work this out! If you won’t stay for me, for heaven’s sake, stay for Sydney!

You’re the world to her! She’s your little girl, George! ”

“Diane, I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.

I can’t control who I love, but I can control who I want to be with for the rest of my life…

and that’s not you. As for Sydney, I’ll always love her, but I need a fresh start without you in it…

Someday, maybe we’ll work out something so I can see Sydney… ”

“You love her?” Mom’s voice cracks with pain and disbelief. “George, what’s happened to you? What happened to us? We used to be so happy. I thought we still were…You have a family. You said you’d love me forever… You made a vow, George…”

There it was…the zip of a suitcase…then the most deafening silence you could ever hear…

“Forever’s an eternity when you regret promising it. I’m sorry, but I have to go. Stop crying, Diane. It’s not very becoming of you. Now, please, just let me go.”

“Fine, George, have it your way… Just know, leaving me is one thing. I’ll find a way to move on, but if you leave her now…like this… she’ll never forgive you.”

That was it. That was the last time I saw my father.

I remember his face, the look in his eyes as he opened that bedroom door, freezing the moment he saw me, knowing that I had overheard the whole thing.

He tried to hug me, and I pulled away in disbelief.

The pain in his eyes as he clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his molars grind said it all. He was leaving us…

I remember the tears running down my cheeks as he looked back at me one more time before walking out of the front door and our lives forever…

“Sydney! Wake up! Phone for you! It’s your moth—er,…..Syd? You ok?” a distant, familiar voice rings.

Reality emerges, a welcome friend to that fresh hell of a dream, and I realize that I had been crying in my sleep. Pulling myself together, I sit up in bed and wipe my tear-stained cheeks, offering a small, sleepy smile. I assure Holly, my best friend, that I’m okay and take the phone from her.

Holly worriedly sits down on the edge of my full-sized bed in our small, two bedroom loft overlooking the busy streets of St. Louis.

She moved in two years ago after we met and became the best of friends at Saint Louis University, where we recently graduated with our bachelor’s degrees in Literature.

The more I think about it, Holly has been a better friend than anyone else in my life…

Ha, that’s an understatement. I know I can always count on Holly.

She won’t walk out on me like my father did all those years ago when I was six.

I will never forget the pain in my mother’s eyes… It will be unlikely I’ll ever forget that day… It’s not like that dream will ever let me.

“Hey, Mom. What’s up?” I ask as cheerfully as I can muster up, but nothing could have prepared me for what she would say next.

“Syd, it...it’s your Grandma Mabel. She’s gone. I knew it would happen someday, but I still can’t believe she’s really gone.” Her mother sniffles, the rustling of tissues echoing on the other end of the line. “The sheriff said she died peacefully in her sleep.”

After speaking a few more minutes with Mom about Nana’s wishes, I tell her I will pack up and get on my way to her in New Hampshire.

Tearfully, we say our goodbyes, and I hang up the phone.

It just can’t be. Nana Mabel, the one person who knows me best, is gone.

She’s never been sick a day in her life, except for the occasional cold or flu.

She was always cheerful, and she loved her house on Maine’s beautiful shore.

I remember some of the nights when we would go to visit.

Nana would take me up to the widow’s walk to watch for Grandpa’s boat to come into the harbor, until the day he didn’t come back.

A few sleepless nights of worrying ended when the sheriff and a man from the coast guard showed up to regretfully deliver the news that they’d found his boat, but that he’d been lost to the sea from the recent storm.

Nana had still held her own and had never let me see her cry.

She’d been a strong old bird, and damn, how I had loved her.

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