CHAPTER fifty
I See the Silver Lining Through the Rain
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania / New Haven, Connecticut
The call connects after three long rings, and the second his face fills the screen, a smile breaks across mine without permission. He’s been in treatment for almost a month. We’ve talked some throughout his time, but I wanted to give him the space he deserves to focus on his healing.
He props his phone against something and leans back in a lounge chair, the morning sunlight slanting across his face. It catches in his hair, glinting off the dark strands as he runs a hand through them absently—a gesture so familiar it tugs hard at my chest.
Behind him, the view is almost surreal. The rehabilitation center sits on the Connecticut coast, and I can just make out a white lighthouse in the distance, stark against the endless blue.
Waves crash against the rocks below, steady and rhythmic, their sound spilling faintly through the speakers as if I’m there beside him.
A gull arcs through the pale sky. The breeze lifts the edges of his hair, brushing it across his forehead, softening the worn edges of his face.
For a moment, I don’t even speak. I just take him in: the man who has carried storms inside of him for so long, now framed by sunlight and sea, the world behind him calm and expansive, it feels like a promise of what’s ahead.
“Hi, baby, how’s it going? You look great,” I say, brightly.
“Hi, love.” His tone is tender. “I’m not going to lie, it’s been…hard. But good.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I know every word costs him, but still he speaks them, and I’ve never been prouder.
“How did family day go?”
Cody and Nora came down last week to join him in a group therapy session, the one he’s been the most nervous about.
He blows out a long breath, his shoulders lifting and falling before he answers.
“I finally told her the truth. That I resented her unfairly for all those years. But we talked through it all. And we’re good now. We’ve all forgiven each other.”
“That’s so good to hear,” I beam, warmth blooming throughout my body.
He nods slowly, then closes his eyes and leans his head back, pulling in another deep breath.
When his gaze returns, it’s as though he’s searching for the words.
“Ramona, I feel… so much lighter. Like I’ve been caught in a storm for years, and the calm has finally broken.”
“Forgiveness can be very powerful,” I say, my own memories pressing close. Gracelyn, the anger that hollowed me out until I let it go. I know what he means. The way resentment can chew you from the inside until you lay it down.
“I’ve got more work to do,” he admits. “But I’m ready to do it. I want to be better. Not only for you… but for me.”
The words split me open. Tears surge before I can catch them, spilling hot as I press my hand over my eyes. My breath shudders.
“Baby, hey…it’s okay. What did I say? Please don’t cry,” he says quickly, his voice turning tender, coaxing.
“I’m sorry,” I squeak, half-laugh, half-sob. “I’m just… so happy for you. And so proud of you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” He says with a smile that makes my heart sing, his tone wraps around me even through the screen.
I lower my hand, and when I meet his gaze, his amber eyes burn with fierce intensity, alive in a way I haven’t seen in so long.
“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he says.
My heart clenches.
“I’ll never give up on you.”
And for a moment, even through the distance, it feels like we’re in the same room, breathing the same air, hearts beating in sync. It feels like…home.
The End