Sly looked at his cousin and laughed. "Lucky, man, relax."
Lucky shook his head. "Relax? You're letting me drive your fully restored, mint condition 1964 Thunderbird, and you want me to relax?"
Sly rolled down the window and let the warm spring breeze caress his face. "Hey, the T-Birds beautiful, but she's strong, too. You don't have to worry about damaging her." He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. "Besides, it's not like Luke hasn't let you drive the Caddy before."
"True," Lucky said, and he released his grip on the wheel a little. "My dad let me drive as soon as my feet could reach the pedals."
"I always wanted my dad to show me how to sail. I didn't understand that he was the machinist on the freighters, not the captain," Sly said wistfully. He opened his eyes and looked out the window, watching the shoreline go by.
"So where is it you're taking me today?" Lucky asked as his eyes drifted ahead to look for an exit sign.
"Evangola State Park. It's one of the best places in New York along Lake Erie," Sly said, sitting up a little straighter. "Our exit is next."
Lucky took the exit and drove according to Sly's instructions. Soon, they approached the entrance to the park. Lucky pulled up to one of the booths at the entrance.
"Seven dollars," a girl in a tan uniform stated in a bored tone, barely looking up from the novel she was reading.
Lucky started to pull some bills from his pocket, but Sly already had the money out. "You're being nice enough to drive us here, so at least let me pay," he said, handing Lucky a five and two singles.
"Fair enough," Lucky said, taking the money from his cousin and handing it to the girl. She took it and printed out a receipt, which she handed to Lucky. "Don't have too much fun, now," Lucky said to the girl before they drove away.
Sly pulled on his khaki shorts a bit and moved around in his seat. "Take a left here," he said, pointing.
Lucky complied, and the car started climbing a hill. Soon, they were on the top near a small clearing.
"Park here on the side of the road," Sly instructed, his brown eyes already searching out the area.
After Lucky parked, the two young men left the car. Lucky walked followed Sly to the crest of the hill, and soon saw the wide expanse of Lake Erie. Its waters glimmered in the late spring sunlight. He could see down to the beach below, which was only sparsely populated, not yet filled with the vacationers that flocked to its shores each summer. The water seemed to go on for miles, its rich blue color blending with the lighter blue of the horizon. "Wow," Lucky said finally, trying to take it all in.
"Awesome, isn't it?" Sly said with a grin.
"Very," Lucky said, turning away from the lake for a moment to observe the area they were standing in. It was a small meadow that didn't seem like it was used very much. It was set on a bluff above the beach, and covered in slightly unruly grass, interspersed with assorted local wildflowers. "How did you find this place?"
"My dad took me here once. It kind of left an impression, though, so when I could later in life, I took the car and drove here." Sly stared out at the lake. "Looking at the water calms me down."
Lucky's blue eyes looked curiously at his cousin. "You need to be calmed down?"
Sly looked back to Lucky. "Yeah, you can say that." He took a few steps backward. "I needed to come here and try to get my head together a little. Emily's due date is about a week away."
Lucky exhaled. "It's still hard to believe."
"Yeah. I never expected to be married at nineteen, let alone be a father," Sly said softly as he watched a small bird gliding over the hill.
"So why am I here?" Lucky asked with a shrug of his shoulders.
Sly turned and looked at Lucky, surprised by the question. "Because I value your advice. And I kind of like having you around, cuz," he smiled.
It did Lucky's heart good to hear that from Sly. He still felt so guilty for attacking him, and it was hard to ignore that feeling, even though Sly did his best to reassure him that all was forgiven. "Ok, why don't we get the stuff out of the car so we can chill here for a while?" Lucky asked, clapping his hands together.
Sly nodded. "Good." The two young men walked back to the car and brought out a picnic basket and a blanket. Lucky spread the blanket on the ground, the bright red fabric contrasting with the soft green grass. Sly put the basket down, then motioned to Lucky with his good hand. "Give me the keys." Lucky obliged, and Sly's hand curled tightly around them.
Lucky watched his cousin walk back to the car and open the trunk. What could he be doing, he thought.
Sly leaned and reached into the deep trunk. "Aha!" he said as he found his intended object.
Lucky looked puzzled as Sly closed the trunk. He held a beat up guitar case. "Sly, you know you can't play yet," Lucky said.
Sly shook his head in agreement. "I know. But I always carried this old, beat up guitar in the trunk in case inspiration hit. This is one of those moments." He handed the guitar to Lucky. "I know I can't play, but this song won't quit bugging me. That's where you come in." He looked very seriously at his cousin. "I need you to be my hands."
*-*-*-*-*-*
"So, any clues about this male bonding trip?" Elizabeth asked as she helped Emily get situated on a chair in the middle of the kitchen.
"Sly said they were going to Evangola State Park in Irving," Emily said, holding one hand up to the green towel wrapped around her head. "What for I'm not really sure. Probably just wanted to get away for a while, not that I blame him one bit," she sighed. "But he's got his cell phone on if I need him."
There was a soft knock at the door. "I'll get it, you stay put," Elizabeth said, leaving the kitchen.
She opened the door and smiled when she saw it was her hairdresser, Michelle. "Hey, come on in," she smiled to the petite young woman.
Michelle entered the apartment carrying a large black bag. "In here?" she asked, pointing to the entrance to the kitchen.
Elizabeth nodded and followed Michelle into the room.
Emily smiled at Michelle as she walked in. Michelle had long blonde hair that fell in loose waves down her back. A pair of cat's eye shaped glasses framed her green eyes. Michelle put down her carrier and held out her hand. "You must be Emily. Elizabeth's told me a lot about you."
Emily shook her hand. "All good I hope."
"A real hairdresser never tells," Michelle smiled. "So, you're in need of a haircut."
Emily frowned. "Can you tell?"
Michelle looked her over a bit. "Well, it seems you haven't had a trim in a while, but I can see how you'd be busy with other things," she said, motioning to Emily's midsection.
Emily nodded. "Yeah, I haven't had much time lately. Thanks for coming here. I don't think I would be able to fit into one of those chairs at the salon."
"Well, Elizabeth had thought of that, and since she's one of my best clients, I was willing to make a house call," Michelle said as she bent down to open her bag.
"Michelle's done my hair ever since I came to Port Charles," Elizabeth said, pulling up a chair of her own.
"And she recommends me to everyone, which has really helped build my clientele," Michelle said, rummaging through the bag.
Emily took off the towel on her head and sighed. "I'm not so sure about this," she said, indecision in her eyes.
Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at Emily. "We discussed this. You were ready to cut it off."
"Now I don't know," Emily said almost tearfully. "It's not like it's going to grow back in a week if I don't like it. What if my child is born and the first thing they see is me with a messy layered chop?" She glanced over to Michelle. "No offense," she added quickly.
Michelle continued to get out her supplies. "None taken. It's a big change to cut your hair short after you had it long for so many years."
"Michelle's right, you know," Elizabeth said. "And I thought you wanted a shorter haircut so you wouldn't have to fuss with it when you were taking care of the baby."
"That's true," Emily said, twirling a damp strand of hair through her fingers. "I don't understand why I can't seem to make up my mind."
Michelle stood up, a smock in her hands. "It's called hormones, honey. Happens to the best of us."
Emily laughed a bit in spite of herself. "You're probably right," she said as she ran a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath. "I guess this could be a test of my courage. I'm going to need it in about a week, so why not do something less uncomfortable now?"
"Are you totally sure you want to do this?" Michelle asked. "I won't do it unless you're absolutely certain."
Emily took a deep breath. "Yes, I want to do this. My life has been nothing but changes lately. What's one more?"
Michelle nodded and spread out the smock, draping it front of Emily and fastening it with Velcro in the back. "We won't do anything too drastic," she said reassuringly.
Emily swallowed and nodded as she watched Michelle set up the rest of her equipment. "Here goes nothing," she whispered.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly lay on his back and stared up at the clouds floating lazily in the sky. He batted away an empty Dr. Pepper can with his foot and tried again to focus his thoughts. "Play it back again."
Lucky started to play the chords that he and Sly had been working on for the past hour. He wasn't quite as good as Sly, but he wasn't bad, either. He strummed the old guitar as he watched the wheels turning in his cousin's mind.
C, A minor, F, Sly thought, trying to let his mind go blank to let the song that was being formed in his mind come through. "It sounds really good, Lucky," he sighed, "but I just can't figure out what this is about." He sat up. "I think I'm losing my touch," he said with frustration.
Lucky stopped playing. "You're too hard on yourself, man," he said, resting his chin on top of the guitar. "It's not like you've had tons of free time lately. And you've rightfully got lots of things on your mind. When you have a minute to stop and think, I'm sure the words will come back to you."
"See, this is why I like having you around," Sly smiled. "You give good advice." As the wind blew a few pieces of his blonde hair back, he looked out at the horizon. He heard Lucky riffing on the chords they had worked out, and his mind wandered. In a few short days, his child would be born. There was so much to do, and so much he knew he probably wasn't ready for. He wondered what kind of father he was going to be. There was so much to explain to this child, so many difficult, painful things to talk about. He wasn't sure he'd be able to do it.
He turned to his cousin. "Lucky, how much did you know about your father's past when you were younger?"
Lucky stopped playing, puzzled a bit by the sudden shift in subject. He thought for a moment. "Um, you mean personal stuff?"
Sly nodded. "Yeah. Like what his family was like, the girls he dated, what he did for a living in the past, stuff like that."
Lucky bit his lower lip before speaking. "I knew all about his side of the family, how his father was an abusive alcoholic."
Sly moved restlessly. "Sounds familiar."
Lucky nodded sadly. "Yeah." He gently put down the guitar on the blanket. "And he pretty much had to tell me about how he got involved with the mob, since I had to understand that from an early age. I think he was pretty straight with me about most things. I have that objectivity now, which I didn't have when I was so angry with him a few years ago," he said softly, running a hand through his tousled light brown hair. "Being locked up gives you a lot of time to think."
Sly sighed, still amazed at the resilience and humility his cousin derived from the worst of circumstances. "I didn't know much about my father's past," he said softly. "In fact, I don't think anyone really did. There's still so much I would like to know about him." He stared at a small blade of grass near his foot. "But sometimes I wonder if he didn't tell me much about his past because he was trying to protect me. Or maybe he was ashamed. I don't blame him if that was the reason," he said, his cheeks coloring with emotion.
Lucky squinted thoughtfully at his cousin. "Maybe. But you still would have liked to have known, though, I bet."
Sly sat up and thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I think I would. Maybe I would have understood him better. I was probably too young to hear all of the details, but then it was too late after he died." Sly closed his eyes. "I remember going through all of his stuff, you know, after, hoping I'd find something. Maybe letters or journals. All I found was the box of pictures. That's it."
"Better than nothing, I guess," Lucky sighed, tapping his fingers on the guitar, creating a hollow wooden plinking sound. "Are you afraid that will happen to your child?" he asked, sensing a deeper meaning to the conversation.
Sly ran a hand quickly over his face. "I don't know, Lucky. I'm worried about a lot of things." He opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight. "Right now, I'm just worried about bringing him into the world, and taking care of him. Then I start thinking about the future, and it gets more and more complicated. How do I explain the details of his conception, let alone what happened to me in my life?" Sly asked, his tone revealing his confusion.
Lucky was silent for a moment before speaking. "Those are tough questions, Sly. I'm not sure I'm really qualified to answer them. Maybe all I can say is to just be as honest as you can, but be age appropriate. Your son or daughter doesn't have to know about your relationship right away. They won't know the difference, anyway. You'll just be mom and dad."
"That's true, I guess," Sly said, not entirely convinced. "But honestly, Lucky, there is so much in my past that is scary to think about, even now. How could I possibly even begin to tell my child about that?"
Lucky's eyes clouded for a moment. "I've asked myself the same question, Sly. When I have a child someday, I'll have to try to explain what happened to me, too. How do you tell an innocent child about the evil of the world? How can you make them feel safe when it's hard to find that comfort yourself?"
Sly exhaled sadly. He didn't know what to say. It seemed like it was impossible to explain all the injustice in the world, the pain and the uncertainty. He couldn't do it on his own. God, I'll have to trust you to find the right words, he thought as he looked out at the water. Then suddenly, as if by some magic, words came to his lips.
There's a ship out on the ocean
At the mercy of the sea
It's been tossed about, lost and broken
Wandering aimlessly
Lucky looked to his cousin and finished his thought.
And God somehow You know that ship is me
Sly smiled delightedly. "You remember!"
Lucky nodded. "We started that so long ago. I think it was after I moved into the apartment."
"But we never finished for one reason or another," Sly said, feeling the excitement of the creative process building up inside of him for the first time in ages. "We were dealing with some serious stuff at the time."
Lucky snorted. "Aren't we always?" he gently teased.
Sly laughed. "True." He hugged his knees to his chest. "We were thinking about the great mysteries, if I remember correctly. Love and forgiveness being chief among them."
"Maybe that's what the song is about," Lucky thought out loud. "God is love. God is light."
God is light, Sly thought for a moment. Then another few lines slipped out.
Because there's a lighthouse in a harbor shining faithfully
Pouring its light out across the water
For this sinking soul to see
"You're good," Lucky said, and he rummaged through the guitar case until he found a spiral music manuscript book that he knew Sly kept there. He took out the pencil that was in the spiral and he opened the book. Soon he was scribbling the lyrics down in the blank spaces between the musical staffs. After he wrote the last line, he stopped to survey what they had so far. "For this sinking soul to see." He looked up at Sly. "What does the soul see? The light?"
Sly nodded. "Yeah. And it what it represents." He started to sing, putting a tentative melody to the words.
That someone out there still believes in me
"Awesome," Lucky said excitedly. He picked up the guitar and plucked out the notes Sly sang. A thought hit him. "Hey, the chords we were playing earlier would be perfect for this."
Sly nodded vigorously. "Well, maybe we were meant to write this after all."
They spent several minutes putting the words to the chords, working out a melody. After that, Sly was a bit stumped as to where to take the song. "What's next?" he asked his cousin.
Lucky thought about what they had just written. "It seems like the time for the chorus. We've got to get across what we really want to say."
Sly searched the skyline thoughtfully. "But what are we trying to say? It seems like the speaker in the song isn't absolutely joyful, but he can still feel God's presence."
"But maybe not in the usual way," Lucky said, hitting the low E string for a moment. "You know, sometimes I can feel God around me, even if I'm not doing something particularly religious, like praying or reading the Bible. Maybe I'm looking at a beautiful sunset, or watching my baby sister play." He sang again.
On a prayer
In a song
I hear your voice and it keeps me hanging on
"Cool, cool, cool," Sly said enthusiastically, then he paused for a moment. "You know, maybe this isn't just a song to God, but to anyone who isn't here physically anymore." He coughed briefly. "Sometimes I can still hear my father's voice, no matter how much noise tries to drown it out." Feeling pulled in that direction, Sly's words came out in a tumble.
Raining down against the wind
I'm reaching out until we reach the circle's end
When you come back to me again
"That's it! That's the chorus," Lucky smiled to his cousin.
Sly laughed. "I think we've cooked up something pretty good."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Emily handed a few bills to Michelle. "Thank you so much for coming over. I really appreciate it."
Michelle smiled as she picked up her bag. "No problem. Good luck with the baby."
As Elizabeth walked Michelle out of the apartment, Emily picked up a hand-held mirror and carefully reviewed her new haircut. It was now only just brushing her shoulders, significantly shorter than the hair that used to trail halfway down her back. It was cut in layers that framed her face. It was a fairly low maintenance hairstyle, just wash and let dry.
Emily stared at the face in the mirror. It was strange expecting to see her long hair, but not finding it. Her face was significantly puffier than it used to be, with pregnancy and mild insomnia taking its toll. The dark bags under her eyes accentuated the fact. She wondered why she never seemed to get that "glow" that people always claimed pregnant women got. All she saw was a tired, bloated mess with a new haircut. She started to cry, again feeling betrayed by her fluctuating hormones and changeable emotions.
Elizabeth came back into the room a few moments later. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked sympathetically, going to Emily's side.
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, I'm just fine!" Emily said feebly, putting down the mirror and trying to wipe away her tears.
"Ok, sure," Elizabeth said, taking a seat in the chair facing Emily. "Is it your hair? I think it came out really cute."
Emily shook her head. "My hair is fine. That's not it. I don't even know what the problem is." She looked out the sliding glass doors to the gorgeous day shaping up outside, but she couldn't find the beauty. Instead, she felt a strong wave of longing for her husband. However, she didn't want to make him come home early. If I can't have Sly, then I think I'd like to be alone, she thought sullenly. Emily tried to smile at her friend. "You know, I think I'm just tired, Liz."
Elizabeth nodded. "You want to go lay down?"
"Yeah, I think so." Emily took Elizabeth's hand of support and rose from the chair. "Thanks again for everything, Elizabeth," she said as they walked down the hallway.
"No problem, Em. You've been there for me when I needed help, so I'm just returning the favor." She helped Emily sit down on the bed. "You go to sleep, and I'll wait for Sly to get home."
"Oh, that's not necessary," Emily said with a wave of her hand.
"No, I'm going to stay. Someone should probably be with you at all times now since the baby's so close," Elizabeth said, handing Emily a blanket.
"Yeah," Emily said softly, still feeling the heavy, unfamiliar sadness. She yawned and lay down.
Elizabeth moved to the door. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything," she said, and then she closed the door and was gone.
Emily sighed as she wrapped the blanket around herself. "Come home soon, Sly," she whispered as she shut her eyes.
*-*-*-*-*-*
*A few hours later*
Sly walked into the apartment humming the song he wrote with Lucky, feeling happier than when he had woken up in the morning. Songwriting was such a great release for him; it was truly a gift in more ways than one. Lucky trailed just behind him.
He was surprised to find Elizabeth sitting on the couch by herself, quietly sketching. She looked up and smiled at the cousins. "Hi there."
"Hey," Lucky smiled, crossing the room to join her.
"Where's Emily?" Sly asked, hanging his keys on the hook near the door. "I want to see her new haircut."
Elizabeth's expression turned serious. "I think you should go check on her. She kind of had a little meltdown earlier, and then she went to lie down. I think she's a bit depressed."
Sly nodded, his blonde hair bouncing slightly. "I will. Thanks for being with her today, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth smiled as she stood and gathered her things. "You don't have to thank me for spending time with Emily. She's my friend, and of course I want to be with her."
"And thanks again, Lucky, for today," Sly said with a quiet sincerity. "It helped a lot."
"Any time. I mean it," Lucky said, looking directly into his cousin's eyes. They shared a glance, and then he took Elizabeth's hand. "We'll get going. Call if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks again, both of you," Sly smiled as they walked out the door.
After they left, Sly walked quietly down the hallway, pausing briefly to glance in the nursery, decorated in its soft pastels. This room would finally meet its resident before too long. He looked at the small white bassinette. His son or daughter would be sleeping in it likely before the end of the week. As he stood in the doorway, he realized that this was perhaps the first time he had thought about that without the overwhelming sense of dread. Now it was more a mix of nervous anticipation and uncertainty with perhaps a dash of hope. Sly chuckled. He had forgotten what hope felt like, the unexpected flutter in his chest, a feeling that maybe things would work out for the best.
He turned and looked to the bedroom door. He left his hand on the knob for just a second, silently praying that he wouldn't upset Emily. I don't want to make her cry, God, he thought. That seems like all I ever do. Help me to know what I need to say to make things better.
He quietly opened the door and found Emily asleep on her side, the blanket tangled around her legs. Sly very gingerly sat down on the bed, removing his sneakers. He then scooted closer to Emily, and unwrapped the blanket. He used it to then cover her more evenly.
Sly paused to observe his sleeping wife. He could tell she was restless. He knew he would be too, if he had to carry a child for nine months and then wait the last few days until the birth. He gently brushed some of Emily's newly cut hair out of her eyes. She was so beautiful, and Sly was continually amazed she was still by his side. "I don't deserve someone like you," he whispered, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
Emily stirred at his touch and her eyes fluttered open. "Sly," she murmured.
He smiled at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Emily shook off her sleepiness, so glad that her husband was home. "That's ok. I was just dozing." She looked up into his brown eyes. He appeared more relaxed than when he had left. "So, I guess you had fun with Lucky today."
Sly decided to lie down next to her. "And how do you know that," he said after he settled down.
"Your eyes," Emily said, gently brushing Sly's brow. "Your eyes always give you away."
Sly smiled at her. "I'm lucky you know me so well," he whispered. "You're the only person who really understands me. You've been behind the walls and by some miracle, you love me anyway."
Emily abruptly shut her eyes to quell the tears that began to rise again. "I hate it when you talk like that, Sly," she said, her voice quivering.
Sly's brow knit in confusion. "Baby, what do you mean?" he asked, using his good hand to caress her cheek.
Emily opened her eyes again, and a few tears escaped. "I mean when you make yourself out to be some loser who was somehow so lucky to be graced with my presence, like I'm some perfect angel," she said with a desperate whisper. "It does neither of us any favors. You're not a loser, and I'm no angel," she said, her voice cracking.
"Can I help it if I think you're the most amazing, beautiful, special woman in the world?" Sly said sincerely, trying to alleviate some of Emily's concerns.
Emily exhaled sharply. "Oh sure, I'm so ready for canonization. Let's see, I've done drugs, lied to basically everyone, fornicated, verbally pummeled my own husband…" She trailed off when she finally started to sob.
Oh, she's crying, Sly thought sadly. I know I did something wrong. His heart ached at Emily's pain. He tried frantically to think of the right thing to say. "Emily, I'm not saying you're perfect. Nobody is. But all those things you mentioned, they're in the past, so far away that you can't even see them anymore."
Emily shook her head. "Not far enough. Like it or not, that's who I am. That's what I'm capable of."
Sly took a deep breath as he considered his next words. He tried to look deeply into Emily's wounded brown eyes. "You know, I've been talking about some similar things with Gail recently. Is a person just a sum of their worst mistakes? Is it really fair to judge yourself like that?" Sly sighed. He was struggling with his own answers to those questions.
Emily wiped away a tear. "I'm not sure, Sly. I've just been thinking about my life, and I don't know what in the world I am going to tell this child. What kind of mother is this poor, defenseless little person going to get? After all the horrible things I've done…"
Sly was silent for a few moments, thinking over everything Emily had said. He was surprised that so many of her concerns mirrored his own. How could he paint a rosy picture of the future for her when he couldn't do it for himself? He swallowed, searching for the right message. Sly smoothed back a bit of Emily's hair and spoke.
"I've found in my life that forgiveness can be very elusive," he said softly. "It's been hard, but I've forgiven many people who've hurt me, even though my pride wanted me to hold a grudge forever. Somehow, even though I did it reluctantly, I always felt better," he said with a bit of wonder still intact. "But even though I can look my enemies in the eye and bless them, it seems the only person I can't forgive is myself."
Emily felt Sly's words tug at her heart. "You're right, Sly. I'm the same way." She attempted to get a hold of her raging emotions and took a deep breath. "But what can we do about it?"
Sly's mind flashed back on the song he had written with Lucky earlier that day.
There's a moment that we all come to
In our own time, in our own space
When all that we've done, we can undo
If our heart's in the right place
He took Emily's hand and placed it on her rounded stomach, and his larger hand on top of hers. "I don't really know the answer to the question, Emily. Maybe it's just being sincere. You've got to want to forgive yourself, really want it. And maybe it's admitting that we're human, fallible creatures that are going to screw up and make mistakes. We've just got to trust that we're going to be loved not in spite of who we are, but because of who we are." Sly then suddenly heard the words he spoke, and was amazed by their profound nature. Wow, God. When I ask for advice, you sure deliver.
Emily closed her eyes for a moment and let Sly's words truly absorb. She couldn't believe the man in whose eyes she had seen such unabashed self-loathing a few months before was now speaking so eloquently about love and mercy. If he can believe it, then I can too, she thought. She looked deeply into her husband's eyes, then leaned forward and kissed him.
"What was that for?" Sly asked after the brief kiss.
"It was for what you said. You amaze me sometimes, because you know exactly what to say to make things better for me," she said, rubbing his arm gently.
"You do that for me, too, you know," Sly said, his heart relieved at Emily's change of mood.
And again I see my yesterdays in front of me
Unfolding like a mystery
You're changing all that is and used to be
"You make me a better person, Emily. When I think about the future, I can't imagine my life without you in it," Sly said, his lower lip trembling slightly.
"Ditto," she said, feeling the baby moving inside of her; she hoped it was absorbing some of the good in the conversation. "I'm just so scared about what's going to happen in the next few days. I'm afraid of the pain, of the responsibility."
"I am too," Sly confessed. "I know I won't be able to take away any of the pain you might feel, but know that I'll be by your side through all of it. I promise you that."
Emily smiled. "That means more to me than you'll ever know," she said softly. "Whatever happens now, we're going to be going through it together." She took Sly's hand in hers and squeezed it. "And that's going to be enough."
Song Credit: "When You Come Back to Me Again" written by Garth Brooks
and Jenny Yates. Performed by Garth Brooks on his album, Scarecrow.