Watch Over Me (29 page)

He bends down and presses his lips to mine. Reaching up, I wrap my arms around the
back of his neck and pull him closer. The kiss ends all too soon, and he rests his
forehead against mine and looks into my eyes.

"You have no idea how hard it is to order Chinese. There's so many choices to pick
from," he jokes.

We pull apart and make our way over to the table to start dishing out food. While
we eat and talk about his day at work and my day writing, I think about how we got
here and how truly happy I am for the first time in my life.

After I left my story on Zander's front porch three months ago, I immediately drove
to my parents' house. Even though I had told my father I was done, I needed to make
sure he understood what all that entailed. When I walked back into the house, I found
him packing a suitcase. He was going back to rehab and he told me he was finished
making me promises he couldn't keep. I told him I was finished with the bakery. I
couldn't run it anymore while he was gone; I didn't
want
to run it anymore. It wasn't my dream, and I couldn't go one more day doing something
that didn't make me happy.

Within a few weeks, Snow's Sugary Sweets was sold to a nice young couple that promised
to keep it exactly like my mother had it and would continue to use all of her recipes.
They even agreed to keep Meg on staff while she went back to school to finish her
degree in Elementary Education.

I talk to my father once a week, and I don't allow myself to get wrapped up in his
problem anymore. I try my best to let him know that I support him, but I don't let
his choices affect my life like they used to. I don't know what will happen between
us when he gets out of rehab this time, but with Zander's help, I don't let myself
worry about something I have no control over.

Staring at Zander across the table, I can't help but smile as he talks animatedly
about a patient he had to X-ray that day. When I left those pages on his doorstep,
I wasn't sure if I would ever hear from him again. I had no idea if I'd pushed him
too far away or whether or not he'd finally realized I wasn't worth the trouble.

For the rest of that day, I forced myself not to dwell on it. I wouldn't allow myself
to be nervous that he was at home reading my words and finally knowing everything
about me. After speaking with my father, I went to the bakery and spent the night
making every single one of my mother's recipes. I baked muffins and pies, cakes and
cookies, and a hundred other things that I grew up eating and making side-by-side
with her. At eleven o'clock, long after the shop had closed, the back door opened,
and I held my breath when I saw Zander walk in carrying my story under his arm.

"Holy shit," he whispered, looking around at all of the baked goods that covered every
surface of the kitchen.

I laughed nervously as he stood just inside the doorway.

"I got a little carried away," I told him with a shrug.

His eyes locked onto mine, and I watched as he walked toward me. Butterflies filled
my stomach as he stepped around the island in the middle of the room and came right
up to me. He set the pile of papers on the counter next to me and then finally reached
up and put both of his hands on either side of my face. I leaned my body closer to
his and looked up at his face.

"Thank you for trusting me with your story."

I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around his waist.

"Thank you reading it. And for forgiving me," I whispered.

He shook his head at me and rubbed his thumbs against my cheek.

"There's nothing to forgive. You deserved more from me. You deserved the truth, and
I was too afraid to give it to you," he replied.

I glanced away from him and down at my story on the counter.

"I was afraid too. I didn't want you to know all of this and look at me differently,"
I admitted.

"Don't you understand?" he asked as he removed on left hand from around his neck and
kissed my scar. "That story right there, it's your heart and soul, and it's the reason
why I love you. Every single word is why I fell in love with you, and it's why I could
never, ever stop loving you no matter what. You amaze me, Addison. Your strength amazes
me, and the fact that you love me back amazes me. At least I hope you still love me
back," he said nervously as he bit his bottom lip.

"And I thought I was the crazy one," I told him with a laugh. "How could I not love
you? You were her friend. She trusted you with me, and you did everything you could
to teach me how to live again. I love you. I don't want to be stuck in the past anymore.
I want to finally look forward to the future, and I want to do it with you. I need
you to keep me strong."

He placed a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and then smiled down at me.

"You don't need me for anything, Sugar. That story right there proves just how strong
you really are. You can do anything you set your mind to, and there's nowhere else
I'd rather be than by your side watching your dreams come true."

The last three months have been the best and the scariest of my life. Upon Zander's
insistence, I submitted my story to a literary agent. In the meantime, with the money
from the sale of the bakery, I enrolled in the local community college and began taking
English and creative writing classes while I continued to write more stories.

"Oh my gosh, I almost forgot your surprise," Zander says as he wipes his hands on
a napkin and gets up from the table. I watch as he walks over to the counter and picks
up a large manila envelope and hands it over to me.

"Don't be mad but I already opened it. I kind of knew what it was, but I wanted to
make sure before you saw it," he tells me as I take the package from his hands and
flip it over.

"What is this?" I ask as I lift up the already torn flap on the envelope.

"Remember how I told you that one of my patients last month works for a publisher
in New York?" he asks as my hand reaches inside the package.

"Yes. And if I remember correctly, I told you not to bother him," I tell Zander as
I raise my eyebrow at him and silently scold him with my look.

"I think you should know by now that I never do anything you tell me to," he says
with a laugh.

Shaking my head at him, I grab the thick packet of papers inside the envelope and
slide them out. I gasp when I see the title page to my story.

"Oh my God," I mumble as I run my hand over the top page that looks like it's been
professionally formatted and bound together.

"They're going to publish it, Sugar. They loved every single word," Zander tells me
excitedly.

I stare down at the manuscript in my hands, and I can hardly believe this is happening.
I almost lost myself, and this story was so close to never being written. And now
other people will read it. It will sit on the shelves of bookstores and someone will
pick it up and read about a girl who almost gave up on everything. With the help of
a boy who loved her more than she thought possible, and the eyes of the most important
person in her life watching over her, she learned how to move forward.

She learned how to live.

Ten years later…

"Mommy, was Grandma at your wedding when you married Daddy?"

I smile down at Angel, my six-year-old daughter, curled up next to my side on the
couch as she flips through our wedding album.

"No, Sweets, she wasn't there in person. But I'm sure she was looking down on us from
Heaven."

Angel looks up at me with her big, gorgeous, gray eyes—mine and my mother's eyes all
rolled into one.

"She's an angel in Heaven and that's why you named me Angel, right?" she asks with
the innocence of a child.

"That's right! And even though she's not here, she loves us and she's watching over
all of us and keeping us safe."

She goes back to the photo album and intently stares at each and every picture. I
hug her closer to my side and kiss the top of her head.

It seems like so long ago that I swore I would never have children because I couldn't
bear the thought of doing it without my mother here to guide me and shower them with
love. But now, I don't know how I ever thought a life without children would be worth
living. Glancing up at the framed napkin that still hangs on the wall and has followed
me and Zander to each of the places we've lived, I close my eyes and send a silent
"thank you" up to Heaven.

When I first found that note, I couldn't possibly comprehend how it was possible for
something like that to happen. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I had no idea
where the note came from or how it was conceivable for me to be holding something
like that in my hand. It wasn't until Angel was born and I became a mother myself
that I finally let all of the doubts go and just accepted the fact that somehow, someway,
my mother was watching over me. I still don't know if Dr. Thompson was real or if
she was sent by my mother to help me, but I don't question it anymore. I get it now.
The moment the doctor put Angel in my arms, I instantly fell in love with her and
the bond between us was forged, never to be broken—even in death. I knew that no matter
what, I would always protect her, and even if I couldn't be with her, I would never
be far away.

I still miss my mother every day. I still think about her more often than not, and
I still wish she was here with me helping me through life. I still wonder why she
had to go and have finally come to terms with the fact that it was just her time.
It doesn't hurt as much to think about her anymore. Remembering her face and her voice
and her hugs don't leave me feeling empty and lonely. They leave me feeling lucky
and loved to have had her in my life, even though the time we had together wasn't
nearly long enough. I'm the person I am today because she loved me. I will continue
being strong and live my life to the fullest because that's what she taught me to
do. And now that I have a daughter, I have an even bigger reason to enjoy everything
that life brings me.

"Sugar, I'm home!" Zander shouts from kitchen as he makes his way to us in the living
room.

He walks up behind the couch, and I tip my head back so I can see him. Leaning over
me, he places a kiss on my lips and then moves over to our daughter, scooping her
up and over the back of the couch while she squeals in delight.