Read Forgetting August (Lost & Found) for Free Online Page B

now, pacing an uneasy path back and forth through our worn carpet as he counted down the hours wondering when I would return home safe and sound.
    I’d woken up this morning nervous and agitated, wondering what I was doing and why I’d made such an enormous, stupid decision like this one. I wanted to cave—to dive under the tranquility of my covers and live the rest of my life from the safety of my bed.
    It was a legitimate idea; I doubt I was the first female who’d considered it. Beds were safe. Beds were understanding and never neglected you.
    Rather than talking me out of the decision I’d made, Ryan had pulled me out of bed, made me French toast and the one thing that always cheered me up.
    Coffee. Blessed, wonderful coffee.
    As I’d sat down, wondering how I’d managed to find a man as wonderful as him, he’d solidified my faith in him even further.
    “You can’t back out now,” he’d said. “You’ll regret it. You’ll always wonder what life would have been like if you’d taken this chance. So, even though I hate the thought of you being in the same room as him—go. You’ll be better because of it.”
    I sat there in awed silence, staring up at him, amazed by his supportive nature, until he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on my lips and reminded me my breakfast was getting cold. I’d quickly slathered my French toast with peanut butter while he made gagging noises and grimaced as I’d poured half a bottle of maple syrup on top of the peanut butter.
    “That’s seriously disgusting.”
    “No,” I’d corrected him, “It’s delicious.”
    He’d dodged and weaved my attempts to airplane feed him a bite and instead made himself a plate of “normal” French toast, which consisted of plain butter and syrup. So boring.
    We ate in enjoyable silence and got ready side by side. I listened to him hum top forty songs off-key in the shower.
    When it had been time to go, he’d given me a kiss and said he would be here when I got home.
    “But you have to work,” I’d argued.
    “I’ll work from home until you get back.”
    I knew he probably hadn’t worked a single productive minute since I’d left for the hospital, which was why I felt incredibly guilty as I went in the opposite direction, toward the coast, rather than taking the freeway home.
    The traffic congestion lessened and the houses grew larger as I drove closer to the cliffs. Each street I passed reminded me of the life I’d once had. The little organic market where I’d had once picked up a particular kind of juice every week…just because August loved it. The smell of the salty air reminded me of long walks on the beach when life had been simple and sweet—before everything had come crashing down.
    I pulled up the driveway and parked. Hidden in the very back of my glove compartment, in a tiny manila envelope, there was a single key—one I’d hidden years ago when I’d walked away from this place and my life with August. It had been my responsibility to take care of our home, to nurture it and keep it flourishing in his absence.
    Two months after he went into a coma, I handed everything over to his attorney with directions on maintenance and financial care, and walked away.
    And yet, here I was. Again.
    I should have tossed the stupid key over a cliff years ago.
    Standing in front of the house, I felt small and insignificant before its high walls and grand exterior. The first day he’d brought me here, I had been blindfolded. There had been a giant red bow wrapped around the front, just like in a movie. At that moment, I’d been so sure he was my happy Hollywood ending.
    *  *  *
    “Are you serious?” I squealed as the blindfold fell to the ground and I got my first glimpse of the colossal house standing before me.
    “Very,” he answered with a devilish grin.
    “We can’t afford this, August. It’s too much! Shit,” I swore, “I don’t think Oprah could afford this.”
    His arms wrapped around my waist and up