The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower, #2)

by Micalea Smeltzer

“You think I’m yours, huh?” “Think? No, baby, I know. I knew then and I know now—you’re mine in the same way I’m yours. I don’t own you, but you’re my perfect fit—the puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing.”

Grief is strange that way—how it tries to defy logic. I saw her die. I went to the funeral. The grave. I did all those things, and yet my mind is still holding onto the illogical hope that she’s in that house.

But if she had the confidence of wildflowers, then I was the resurrection of wildflowers. My soul withered with the death of my son. I was lost and that version of myself was gone forever. But I came back—I came back and now I’ll grow and thrive alongside her.