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“Are you kidding me? People paid two thousand dollars to look at a dead body?!”
“I’m worried about the future generations.” “Don’t worry, the generation before you worried about you, too, and it’s obvious you’re a bright, charming personality,” I mocked.
“Every word you’ve ever written becomes my new favorite story.”
“Your idea of talent is jaded.” “I know,” I replied harshly. “I do, after all, read your books.”
“Just because you smile and act free doesn’t mean the cage doesn’t exist. It merely means you lowered your standards for how far you’ll allow yourself to fly.”
“Though, I’m not certain which ones she’d like. Will you help?” “Of course. Tell me a little about her.” “Well, she’s beautiful. She has these eyes that just pull you in, and when she looks at you, she makes you feel like the most important person in the room.”
“She’s gentle and caring. Has a smile that lights up a room. She’s smart, too, so smart. She’s not afraid to give a helping hand, even when it’s tough. And the last word to describe her…” he said, reaching out and picking out a deep red rose. “Is pure. She’s pure, untainted by the world’s cruelty. Just simply, easily, and beautifully pure.”
“Ollie, you’re forgetting your flowers,” I called after him. He turned back to me and shook his head. “No, ma’am. A friend of mine asked me to stop in to pick out those for you. I asked him some characteristics about you, and that is the creation that came to be.”
“He was a complete idiot for thinking you weren’t the most beautiful woman in that room. Yeah, I get it, Lucille—you’re a hippie weirdo and everything about you is loud and outlandish, but who is he to demand that you change? You’re a prize of a woman, rose petals in your hair and all, and he treated you as if you were nothing more than an unworthy slave.”
“Would you like some water?” “Yes, please, the kind that tastes like wine.”
“You asked me to make a garden,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “So I’m making you a garden.”
“Dress code?” He tossed it at me one last time and bit his bottom lip, allowing the small dimple in his right cheek to appear. “Anything you wear will be good enough for me.”
I was never a people person, but these people were good. Like Lucy. Just wholeheartedly good people who didn’t ask for anything but love.
“I shit you not. Best thing I’ve read in years. What changed?” I shrugged my shoulders and stood up from the chair. “I started gardening.” “Ah.” He smiled knowingly. “Lucy Palmer happened.”
The beautiful girl who felt everything. Her emotions weren’t what made her weak. They were her strength.
“My heart begins to beat again.”
She was right beside me. She caught me before I hit the ground. She became my strength when I could no longer be brave.
Oh, how badly I needed someone to stay that night. I was so thankful it was her.
I don’t know what the meaning of life is or why death interrupts it.
He was the best man I’ve ever known, the best friend I’ve ever had, and the world’s a lot darker tonight because he’s gone. Ollie was my father,” Graham said, tears freely falling down his cheeks as he took one final deep breath. “And I will forever be his son.”
Each second I saw her, I fell a little more.
“Lucille?” “Yes?” “You make the world a lot less dark.”
Loving Lucy Hope Palmer wasn’t a choice; it was my destiny.
“It’s you,” I whispered, our lips still slightly touching. “My greatest hope is, and always will be, you.”
“You’re in love with me?” “With every piece of my soul.”
“If you need to fall, fall into me.”
“So this is our happily ever after?” I asked softly against his lips. “No, my love, this is merely our chapter one.”
Lucille Hope Russell was my love story, and I promised myself I’d spend the rest of my life being hers. After all, maktub—it was already written. We were destined to live happily ever after as our hearts floated near the stars and our feet remained on solid ground.
