Read Online A Breath Until Forever by Keira D. Skye - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Keira D. Skye
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Got a girl pregnant.”
“You have a kid?”
All their talks about having children and he had a kid?
“Did.” He said. “Past tense.”
Sadness instantly filled the air.
“What happened?”
“He died.”
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..”
“It's okay. Really.” Interrupted Joshua. “It's been quite a few years. My girlfriend at the time was driving from Berkeley to Sacramento. She got into a car accident. She fell asleep. Dustin died instantly. As she did too.”
“Dustin?”
“That was my son's name.”
“Yeah, I saw it as a sign. Quit college. Moved back here. And been working at the steel company and taking care of the ranch ever since.”
Meredith tried desperately for words, but none came to mind. What do you say to someone when they reveal to you that they have lost their one and only child? Meredith instantly felt grief. Tears welled in her eyes, and her body began to weaken in the pool of sadness from which she drowned in.
The moment was killed now. She could live on with him, or go back to that dark place. She decided to move forward.
He discouraged her from feeling sad for him. He didn't want her to feel sad for him. Only to listen. To know more about his past. Have empathy, but in silence. “It really was a while ago, and I've made peace with it, so it's okay.”
He compromised the moment with the softness of his voice, and the tenderness of the forgiveness he felt for the evilness of life, and it quickly eased her pain. Her heart hurt. It ached for him. But the softness made her feel a little more comfortable and at peace with it too.
Joshua quickly changed the subject. “Tell me more of your poetry.”
“I used to belong to a book club.” She said. “And I would hang out at coffee shops where poets are more than welcome.”
She continued on. He listened, but kept looking at the beauty and length of her hair. “They compensated their words with words of great poets before them. I always sat in the back row and could hardly hear them at times, so often I'd bring my own book for reference and distraction. I'd labor for courage to get up there myself, and speak it, but never felt confident enough to do so.”
“You write poetry?”
“A little.” Meredith confessed. Writing poetry had been her deepest and sometimes darkest secret, and she never revealed her passion for the written word, not even Benjamin.
“Can I hear some?” He asked. “I like poetry.”
Meredith instantly felt a little flushed. Embarrassed. It wasn't every day that someone was interested in poetry, more then that, interested to hear her and share her poetry with others. Her poetry to her was personal, wholeheartedly intimate, reclusive. She was a longer Meredith Hurley when it came to her words, rather, a free spirit, an awakened soul, and she liked it that way.
However as much as she didn't want to share with Joshua, she could tell that Joshua truly wanted her to share it with him. She mustered up a simple “Okay.”; and allowed herself to share her passionate side of her, something that most people didn't get to have.
Meredith fidgeted around in her purse, until she found a coffee stained, and crumpled up piece of paper. She carefully uncrumpled it, and on it was filled with chicken scratch like handwriting, and unkempt random doodling. Her cheeks instantly flushed. It wasn't everyday that he read to anyone Sometimes she had read to her old dog Luca, but after a rambling preamble of a few rhyming lines he'd stick his tail in between his legs and go back to laying down on his bed by the fire place and fall asleep. Benjamin didn't have any interest in her poetry. It was something that she kept to herself. Poetry was a solitary enjoyment. She enjoyed putting pen to paper, all of her emotions and it seemed to serve more than a literary medium, rather it replaced a diary of her often troubled life and all
“You have a kid?”
All their talks about having children and he had a kid?
“Did.” He said. “Past tense.”
Sadness instantly filled the air.
“What happened?”
“He died.”
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..”
“It's okay. Really.” Interrupted Joshua. “It's been quite a few years. My girlfriend at the time was driving from Berkeley to Sacramento. She got into a car accident. She fell asleep. Dustin died instantly. As she did too.”
“Dustin?”
“That was my son's name.”
“Yeah, I saw it as a sign. Quit college. Moved back here. And been working at the steel company and taking care of the ranch ever since.”
Meredith tried desperately for words, but none came to mind. What do you say to someone when they reveal to you that they have lost their one and only child? Meredith instantly felt grief. Tears welled in her eyes, and her body began to weaken in the pool of sadness from which she drowned in.
The moment was killed now. She could live on with him, or go back to that dark place. She decided to move forward.
He discouraged her from feeling sad for him. He didn't want her to feel sad for him. Only to listen. To know more about his past. Have empathy, but in silence. “It really was a while ago, and I've made peace with it, so it's okay.”
He compromised the moment with the softness of his voice, and the tenderness of the forgiveness he felt for the evilness of life, and it quickly eased her pain. Her heart hurt. It ached for him. But the softness made her feel a little more comfortable and at peace with it too.
Joshua quickly changed the subject. “Tell me more of your poetry.”
“I used to belong to a book club.” She said. “And I would hang out at coffee shops where poets are more than welcome.”
She continued on. He listened, but kept looking at the beauty and length of her hair. “They compensated their words with words of great poets before them. I always sat in the back row and could hardly hear them at times, so often I'd bring my own book for reference and distraction. I'd labor for courage to get up there myself, and speak it, but never felt confident enough to do so.”
“You write poetry?”
“A little.” Meredith confessed. Writing poetry had been her deepest and sometimes darkest secret, and she never revealed her passion for the written word, not even Benjamin.
“Can I hear some?” He asked. “I like poetry.”
Meredith instantly felt a little flushed. Embarrassed. It wasn't every day that someone was interested in poetry, more then that, interested to hear her and share her poetry with others. Her poetry to her was personal, wholeheartedly intimate, reclusive. She was a longer Meredith Hurley when it came to her words, rather, a free spirit, an awakened soul, and she liked it that way.
However as much as she didn't want to share with Joshua, she could tell that Joshua truly wanted her to share it with him. She mustered up a simple “Okay.”; and allowed herself to share her passionate side of her, something that most people didn't get to have.
Meredith fidgeted around in her purse, until she found a coffee stained, and crumpled up piece of paper. She carefully uncrumpled it, and on it was filled with chicken scratch like handwriting, and unkempt random doodling. Her cheeks instantly flushed. It wasn't everyday that he read to anyone Sometimes she had read to her old dog Luca, but after a rambling preamble of a few rhyming lines he'd stick his tail in between his legs and go back to laying down on his bed by the fire place and fall asleep. Benjamin didn't have any interest in her poetry. It was something that she kept to herself. Poetry was a solitary enjoyment. She enjoyed putting pen to paper, all of her emotions and it seemed to serve more than a literary medium, rather it replaced a diary of her often troubled life and all
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