Coy blushes. “I’m glad. And I’m glad Joe’s chemo is working. He told me the doctor said today that the big tumor shrunk.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “That’s exactly what Dr. Helm said. It was music to my ears.”
He sits beside me. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.” He bumps me with his shoulder. “Now, let's go feed my baby.”
I snort, shaking my head as Coy pulls me to my feet. “I’m going to weigh five hundred pounds if you keep force-feeding me.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen.
“Just buy us a jet,” Oliver tells Holt. “For fuck’s sake. Coy is going to need it. Aren’t you, Coy?”
“Nope. You’re not dragging me into this,” Coy tells him.
Boone walks up next to us. “I think we need a jet.”
“No one cares what you think we need,” Holt tells him.
Boone opens his mouth to respond when his forehead marrs. He pulls out his phone. “Hello?”
“What does he need a jet for?” Coy jokes.
“Are party jets a thing?” Oliver laughs. “I’m not discounting that as a legitimate reason for needing a jet. Add that to my list.”
Boone scratches his head. “No,” he says into the phone. “What? No. What are you talking about?”
He looks at Coy. There’s an odd look in his eye that I can’t pinpoint.
“You’re kidding me?” Boone asks. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. I’ll be there.”
He ends his call and looks at Oliver. “I gotta go. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Holt asks Boone, but he’s already half-way across the room.
Oliver and Coy shrug before Oliver turns back to Holt and continues their jet argument.
I take in the scene around me—one filled with so much love that it’s overwhelming.
To think that I didn’t believe I could have this is crazy.
To think that I had to do it on my own is even nuttier.
And to think that I almost pushed away the best thing that ever happened to me because I was scared.
I know better now.
Life’s not meant to be lived in fear. It’s not meant to be lived alone either.
It’s meant to be experienced. Life is meant to be lived, not survived. It’s for loving and fighting and complete mess making. Life is for taking risks and winning and losing and learning.
Thriving.
A wise man once told me that a life lived without tears is a life unlived. I didn’t get it then, but I get it now.
As I watch Coy in the living room talking to my father, I know exactly what my dad meant. I could’ve taken the safe route and saved myself potential heartache. But I would’ve missed out on all of this.
“Hey, do you need help?” Wade says. “I could get Mom to get you something to drink, if you want.”
I smile at him. “I’m good, Wade. Thank you.”
And as my gaze finds Coy’s again and my heart swells so much it nearly bursts, I realize that’s not true.
I’m not just good. I’m blessed beyond measure.
And it’s all because of the boy next door—the one with the bad reputation.
THE END.