A Good Book (Sunday Morning, #3)

by Jewel E. Ann

“Gabbs, grieving isn’t a group sport. It’s the most personal emotion a human is capable of feeling. If you dropped ten vases from the exact same distance onto the same floor, they would all break differently. One or two might not break at all or just have a chip out of them. But no two would have the same number of pieces. No two would be put back together in the same way. No one knows exactly what Ben is feeling or how long it will take for him to feel pieced back together. And you can’t do it. Nobody can put Ben back together except Ben. You’ll only get cut if you try to fix him.”

“I’ll never be him,” I said, closing the Bible and setting it next to the stack of folders and notepads from school. She signed, “No. You’re not him. You’re more.” “I don’t know, Gabbs.” I laughed, staring at the Bible. “There’s a lot of him in there. Years of him. I don’t know if there’s room for anyone to be more. Don’t get me wrong, I’m okay with loving you more. That would make your Grandma Bonnie so happy. But I can’t help but see him inked in the margins of your whole world and not feel like there’s no room for me.” She reached for my face, and I shook my head. “It’s fine, Gabby. You don’t have to make me feel better. I don’t know if you can. I’m just working on accepting it. Ya know? We’ll be fine. We’ll have a good life. We’ll laugh like we’ve always done. We’ll be there for each other. Raise a family and all that comes with that. I’m just …” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I guess I’m still young and stupid, and I want to be the muse for all your poems. I selfishly want my name to be in the margins of your books. But I’m not, and that’s fine. I’ll grow up and focus on more important things like our baby. But right now, I’m struggling to be the man you need instead of the boyfriend you didn’t want.” She flinched, and that wasn’t my intention. In fact, it wasn’t my intention to tell her that I looked inside her Bible. But she caught me, and I couldn’t lie. Before her tears escaped, she blotted the corners of her eyes while squeezing between my legs and her desk, ...

For the record, I wanted you first, but you were with Susie, and you told me we could only be friends. And that, Benjamin Ashford, was just how long it took me to get the nerve to ask you to be more than friends. You were my first crush long before that, and I want you to be my last. And because you’re so STUPID, you didn’t think to look at the beginning. Genesis Chapter 1. I lifted my gaze from the paper to her straight face, then I opened her Bible to Genesis Chapter 1. After the first three words “In the beginning,” she drew a caret symbol and inserted “there was Benjamin Ashford” with a heart behind my name. Well, damn … I scooted the chair back and got on my knees, holding her left hand with mine. She grinned as I took the pen and drew a heart on her ring finger, then I drew a circle around her finger connecting the heart—a temporary ring for a forever promise. When I looked up, she nodded a half dozen times. There was no room in my mind or my heart for regret. Gabriella Grace Jacobson owned every inch. I lifted her shirt and drew a heart around her belly button. When I glanced up, Gabby rolled her eyes. “Your mom said yes.” I kissed her belly.