The Burns We Carry (Lost and Found in Wallowpine #1)

by Marae Good

But homes can be rebuilt, and hearts can mend.

I longed for a family I’d never have.

And while it was a relief to be lost, to escape from it all, I was starting to wonder if it might be even nicer to be found.

You didn’t fill wells of trust in a day. You did it gradually, over time.

But you can’t know joy without pain, Shay.

Maybe I too could grow from fire and ash. Maybe I could take this pain and mold it into something more.

Yes, there was pain and fear of the unknown, mountains left to climb. But in the midst of that, two beautifully broken people were whole.

It’s easier to change your life when your choices no longer affect solely you. It’s easier to love someone more than yourself—to believe they deserve more.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is family has everything to do with heart and nothing with to do with blood.

Healing wasn’t a swift motion, something that happened instantaneously. It was painful. It took time, patience, and grace.

He might be nothing . . . but you’re everything, Shay.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you aren’t broken, but that instead you’re being rebuilt?”

“You’re safe with me, Shay.”

“You can give me your pain, Shay.”

“You see the world differently than me, Shay. You see beauty in the shadows, and I find it in the sun. I see it in you.”

“You’re my sun, Shay. But I don’t want to possess you, keep you for myself. I’m on my knees in awe of you, at your mercy. I will never overpower you. I want to watch you rise and experience your warmth and light—because, Shay, whether you believe me or not, you are a light.”

Blood didn’t bind a family. Love did.

“I wish I could take all your worst days and turn them into the best.”

“I chose her. I’ll choose her every time, and I know you will, too. But to do that, we also need to choose each other. No more fear, no more walking away—this is it. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” His throat bobbed, his voice a shaky rasp. “And she is ours.”