Page 152 of River Wild

She died twice on that horrific fucking night.

If her ex-husband hadn’t killed himself, I would have murdered him with my bare hands.

Those doctors got her heart started again and got that bullet out, which was lodged in her left lung. It had missed her heart by millimeters.

When she came out of surgery, her doctor told me that they’d put her in an induced coma to help give her time to heal. Her breathing was assisted.

There were fears that she would never wake up. That she wouldn’t be able to breathe alone. That there would be irreparable damage.

It was the longest week of my life. I’d never felt so helpless.

But the strangest thing happened. People from the town started showing up at the hospital, offering support to me. Bringing food. Helping with Hope. Some even just came to sit with Carrie and me while I waited for her to open her beautiful eyes.

It changed how I saw everything.

How I saw people. Especially the people of this town.

After seven long days, Carrie woke up.

I’d never felt such relief.

Then, she started breathing unassisted, and from there on, she made a full and complete recovery.

She’s a goddamn fighter, my girl.

When Carrie got out of the hospital, she and Hope moved in with me. They’re still with me.

My house became our home.

It was hard on Carrie though, having to see her old house and remembering what had happened there every time she left our home.

So, I contacted the owner of the house, who was only happy to sell it to me. The day that house became mine, I had it demolished. I flattened that fucking place to the ground.

I had money just sitting in the bank from my inheritance from my gran. She hadn’t just left me the old house. She’d left me a truckload of money. Gran never was a big spender, so her money from her art had accumulated over the years. I never had anything to spend it on. Spending some on buying that house and bulldozing it to the ground was the best use of it. I knew Gran would have approved.

And, truthfully, I didn’t just do it for Carrie.

I did it for me, too.

That house was the place where Carrie had died. In my fucking arms.

I didn’t need a reminder of that every day.

I just thank God every single day that she came back to me.

We could have moved. Sold Gran’s house.

It probably would have been the easier option.

I did suggest it to Carrie even though it would have been hard for me to move. Gran’s house had been my safe place since the day I came to live there.

But I would have left for her.

I would do anything for Carrie.

But she said no. She wanted us to stay. She was adamant.

I knew she partly did it for me, aware that it would be hard for me to leave my house.