Part 25 (2/2)
His gaze didn't flinch from hers, just held steady with that conviction that was so much a part of him. Once Walt set his path he never varied from it. He was always that sure.
”I've always known we were forever, sweetheart, and no matter what life threw at us, I always knew I wanted to go through it al with you.”
”Even after . . .”
His thumb pressed, parting her lips. ”Especial y after.”
Grief darkened the gray of his eyes. ”He was our son. It was our loss. No one else understood how that hurt, how it stil hurts.”
Oh G.o.d, it did hurt. ”But-”
His mouth found hers, cutting off the protest, softly, at first as if he, too, had forgotten the path home, but then his head tilted, his mouth opened and the emotion flowed. Love, pa.s.sion, grief, joy-it came at her in a dazzling array. Al she'd ever wanted. Al she'd needed, just waiting for this moment, for her. Just waiting to guide her out of the abyss, back to solid ground.
She locked her arms behind his neck. Oh, G.o.d, she'd missed this so much, missed him so much.
I love you. I love you. I love you. The words kept pounding in her head, picking up the pace of her pulse, fil ing her lungs, her mind, her heart.
”I love you, too.”
She breathed in the vow, holding him tighter.
”Don't ever let me go again. Please.”
b.u.t.terfly kisses brushed over her cheek, nose, and lashes. So many, so soft compared to the steel in his voice.
”Never. From now on, Kathy girl, if things get rough, we turn in, not away.”
Into each other's arms. Into their love. She relaxed into his embrace. ”Yes.”
Together they were strong enough to survive anything.
A cold nose shoved between them, brus.h.i.+ng the exposed flesh of her stomach. She jumped.
Walt chuckled. How she'd missed that sound most of al .
”I think someone's jealous.”
”Yes.”
He stepped back, letting the dog between them. Kathy didn't mind. Sebastion needed love, too.
”You might as wel know, while you were gal ivanting about-”
She pretended to slap his arm. ”I was getting help.”
He caught her hand, but didn't let go, as if having her near was too new for him, also.
”Uh-huh, wel , while you were working things out, Sebastian and I had a talk.”
”And?” She knew what was coming. Walt wouldn't invite just anyone to his son's birthday party.
”He's decided he'd like to stay.”
It was a statement and a question in one. She looked down at the red, white, and orange cake with the spot on the corner that looked suspiciously like it'd been doggie nibbled. In the middle sat a single red candle shaped in the form of a number one. Danny's favorite color.
She took a breath against the wash of pain, holding Walt's hand, knowing he was going to be there at the end, making it bearable.
”Kathy . . .”
She squeezed Walt's hand as she imagined Danny there beside the cake, his st.u.r.dy body dressed in denim shorts and a s.h.i.+rt, his smile lighting up the room when he saw Sebastian. Tears spil ed over her cheeks. Bold and fearless but so sweet. Danny had been such a good boy.
The best of Walt and her.
I love you, baby.
The image faded.
”Kathy?” Walt asked again, turning her to face him. ”We don't have to keep him.”
Her first instinct was to hide what she'd been thinking, but she looked at the cake again. The cake wasn't store- bought. Walt had had it made up specifical y for the occasion in Danny's favorite colors with Danny's favorite toys decorating the border. It was exactly what she would have done if she could have. Moving back into Walt's embrace, she put her hand against his chest, feeling the medal ion beneath his white T-s.h.i.+rt. He hadn't taken it off.
”I was just imagining Danny here, picturing his face when he saw what you've done.” She looked up, catching the same torment in his eyes that lived inside her. ”He would have loved that cake, Walt.”
For a second, his expression broke. It was such a shame men weren't al owed to cry. The tears he didn't shed roughened his voice.
”I hoped so. Every time I looked back, al I could see was that d.a.m.ned funeral with everyone dressed in black and not a color to be found. It never struck me as right. He was a happy kid. I just wanted . . .” He choked off, his hand clenching in a fist.
She eased her fingers between his, giving him something else to hold onto other than the pain.
”A happy memory?”
”Yeah.” He nodded. ”A happy memory.”
Bringing his hand to her mouth, she pressed a kiss to the center of his palm before wrapping his arm back around her waist, binding them together.
”It's al right, Walt.”
And it real y was. The cake wasn't perfect. Neither was the dog. Nor was Walt, or herself for that matter, but together they could get a start on something perfect for al of them. A new beginning.
She wiped at her tears before holding out her hand.
”Give me the matches.”
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