Read Online Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) by J. L. Berg - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. L. Berg
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still waiting for that panicked phone call.”
“Has he never had Zander alone?” my mom asked. She was now sitting up in bed with a warm robe she’d grabbed from her suitcase wrapped around her.
“A few hours here and there but not overnight—and vice versa. I’ve never been without him this long. I know he’s just down the hall, but it still feels weird to wake up and not jump out of bed to check on him.”
I smiled, seeing the way my best friend had changed over the last two years. Her heart had doubled in size from becoming a wife first and then adding the role of a mother. She breathed out love from every pore in her body, and I felt nothing but pure joy for her happiness.
There were times in my life when those I loved had been timid, nearly scared to share with me the joy they felt in their own lives because of the situation my sickness had presented in my own life. What they hadn’t understood was that seeing excitement, hearing about their accomplishments, was what helped make the rough days and nights a bit more bearable.
I had known my life would never be like the nurses who had befriended me or the patients I’d met who eventually left and moved on. But knowing them and becoming a part of their lives, for even a brief moment, had helped ease the loneliness and given me a window to the outside world, making the walls around me feel just slightly thinner.
Now that I was free, no longer a slave to the heart that had held me captive for so long, my friends and family would freely share their ups and downs with me, and it was a wondrous feeling.
It felt normal.
And being normal was all I’d ever wanted.
“Well, so far, no texts and no missed calls,” I said, holding up her iPhone in its bedazzled pink case. “So, I think your knightly husband is handling the infant just fine. Go get in the shower, and I will order us food!”
“And coffee!” she reminded me as she marched into the shower.
I picked up the phone receiver, pressed the number for room service, and waited until someone picked up.
“How may I help you, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” the person asked on the other end.
I stumbled momentarily, having never been called by my soon-to-be surname. The room had been booked under Jude, so I guessed it was just naturally assumed I was the Mrs. to the Mr.
Mrs. Jude Cavanaugh.
It was surreal and surprising.
It was completely amazing.
I quickly came back to reality and placed our breakfast order. I asked for enough food to serve an army—or at least the entire floor. I felt a little guilty for waking everyone up so early, and I wanted to make it up to them. So, after hearing the total bill that would have once made me faint, I thanked the man and hung up.
“We should have food in about thirty minutes,” I said, turning to sit on the bed opposite from my mom.
She looked at me with soulful eyes, tears leaking out of the corners.
“You’re getting married today,” she gushed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re crying on me already?” I said, springing from the edge to cross the wide gap separating us.
I sat down beside her, and she gathered me in her arms. It didn’t seem to matter how old I’d gotten. Nothing beat the feel of my mother’s embrace.
“All those years we spent in the hospital—when I sat beside your bed and watched you recover from one surgery after another with nothing but the same bleak future for you to look forward to—I hoped and prayed that a day like this would come. No one in this world deserves happiness more than you, my angel. No one.”
Wetness trickled down my cheeks as her words seeped into my heart, etching themselves into my very soul.
“I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, baby, I love you, too—so very much.”
“Did you know that many brides find it difficult to eat on their wedding day?” Grace asked from across the room as she pushed a black olive around on her plate. Her hair was up in large barrel curlers, and she sat cross-legged
“Has he never had Zander alone?” my mom asked. She was now sitting up in bed with a warm robe she’d grabbed from her suitcase wrapped around her.
“A few hours here and there but not overnight—and vice versa. I’ve never been without him this long. I know he’s just down the hall, but it still feels weird to wake up and not jump out of bed to check on him.”
I smiled, seeing the way my best friend had changed over the last two years. Her heart had doubled in size from becoming a wife first and then adding the role of a mother. She breathed out love from every pore in her body, and I felt nothing but pure joy for her happiness.
There were times in my life when those I loved had been timid, nearly scared to share with me the joy they felt in their own lives because of the situation my sickness had presented in my own life. What they hadn’t understood was that seeing excitement, hearing about their accomplishments, was what helped make the rough days and nights a bit more bearable.
I had known my life would never be like the nurses who had befriended me or the patients I’d met who eventually left and moved on. But knowing them and becoming a part of their lives, for even a brief moment, had helped ease the loneliness and given me a window to the outside world, making the walls around me feel just slightly thinner.
Now that I was free, no longer a slave to the heart that had held me captive for so long, my friends and family would freely share their ups and downs with me, and it was a wondrous feeling.
It felt normal.
And being normal was all I’d ever wanted.
“Well, so far, no texts and no missed calls,” I said, holding up her iPhone in its bedazzled pink case. “So, I think your knightly husband is handling the infant just fine. Go get in the shower, and I will order us food!”
“And coffee!” she reminded me as she marched into the shower.
I picked up the phone receiver, pressed the number for room service, and waited until someone picked up.
“How may I help you, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” the person asked on the other end.
I stumbled momentarily, having never been called by my soon-to-be surname. The room had been booked under Jude, so I guessed it was just naturally assumed I was the Mrs. to the Mr.
Mrs. Jude Cavanaugh.
It was surreal and surprising.
It was completely amazing.
I quickly came back to reality and placed our breakfast order. I asked for enough food to serve an army—or at least the entire floor. I felt a little guilty for waking everyone up so early, and I wanted to make it up to them. So, after hearing the total bill that would have once made me faint, I thanked the man and hung up.
“We should have food in about thirty minutes,” I said, turning to sit on the bed opposite from my mom.
She looked at me with soulful eyes, tears leaking out of the corners.
“You’re getting married today,” she gushed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re crying on me already?” I said, springing from the edge to cross the wide gap separating us.
I sat down beside her, and she gathered me in her arms. It didn’t seem to matter how old I’d gotten. Nothing beat the feel of my mother’s embrace.
“All those years we spent in the hospital—when I sat beside your bed and watched you recover from one surgery after another with nothing but the same bleak future for you to look forward to—I hoped and prayed that a day like this would come. No one in this world deserves happiness more than you, my angel. No one.”
Wetness trickled down my cheeks as her words seeped into my heart, etching themselves into my very soul.
“I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, baby, I love you, too—so very much.”
“Did you know that many brides find it difficult to eat on their wedding day?” Grace asked from across the room as she pushed a black olive around on her plate. Her hair was up in large barrel curlers, and she sat cross-legged
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