“I’ve never come to talk to you. I didn’t know if I even wanted to. For a long time, I was angry with you. I couldn’t understand why you couldn’t love me enough to stay on the straight path. You were raising me on your own. You were all I had. You think you would have done everything in your power to keep me safe, but you didn’t.”
My eyes fill with tears of anger. Letting go of all the things I’ve been carrying around leaves my chest feeling a tad bit lighter.
“Only a few good things came out of your death. I met Brennan. I swear he was sent to me from God. He got me through the roughest years of my life. His love never wavered, even when he was just a child himself. Somehow God allowed our paths to come full circle after being apart for seventeen years.”
Lifting my hand, I wipe the few tears that roll down my cheeks.
“I was adopted by two amazing people who love me unconditionally, and I found a best friend who stood by me even when I tried to push her away. Everyone always says God has a plan. Do you think this was part of his plan? You being taken away from me, so I could live the life I was meant to?”
I take in the scenery as flowers decorate the graves around his, but his site is bare. There is no one to come visit him, to talk to him, to lay flowers for him. He died alone on the floor of our house that dreadful night, and he lies here alone. I’ll have to make it a point to drive the five hours to visit as often as I can. This man helped give me life. The life I wake up every day and cherish.
“Don’t let her walk on them. Pick her up,” I holler across the open plain.
“She won’t let me hold her, she wants to walk,” he responds while following behind our teetering toddler.
Brennan scoops our thirteen-month-old daughter, Kayla, in his arms and walks over to where I sit.
“I understand she wants to walk, but I don’t want her walking over people’s final resting places.”
Turning, I look back at the headstone. “This is my daughter, Kayla. One look at her, and I knew she was definitely her father’s daughter. She was born with a full head of hair. She has her daddy’s bright blue eyes and thick black hair. I was able to put bows in it from birth.”
I laugh a little. “I have no clue what I looked like as a baby since I have no pictures. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what the next baby looks like when he is born.” I rub my swollen belly.
We didn’t plan to have another baby so quickly. Still, it was no surprise when I peed on the pregnancy test and it appeared positive. I can never resist my handsome husband.
Looking around the cemetery and then at my daughter in Brennan’s arms, I leave all the pain of my past exactly where it needs to be.
In the past.
Reaching over, I take my husband’s hand, and he leads us out of the cemetery. Looking over my shoulder, I lift my fingers to my lips and blow my biological father a kiss and whisper, “Thank you.”
I am blessed to have been adopted by the most supportive parents.
I have an amazing husband.
A beautiful daughter.
A son on the way.
I couldn’t wish for a better life.
Now when I smile, tears of joy fill my eyes.
No longer tears of sadness.
I have the life I was meant to lead.
With Brennan by my side, I can conquer anything.
THE END
About the Author
H.P. Davenport grew up in Philadelphia, graduated from Temple University, and is currently living in southern New Jersey. She is a litigation paralegal by day and romance genius by night! When she’s not tending to her furry children and her handsome husband, H.P Davenport is seamlessly carving beautiful stories from her mind in her comfy PJs.
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Author Note
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Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I want to thank my husband for his unwavering love and patience with me. There have been plenty of nights that my face has been buried in my laptop and I have ignored you. Don’t ever forget how much I want you in my life. You are my heart, my soul, my whole world. I love you.
To my beta readers, Michelle Kemper Brownlow, Heather McLaughlin, and Sarah Arndt, THANK YOU… These small words just don’t seem enough to show you how grateful I am for our friendship and for the amazing support you have given me. Thank you for the countless hours you put in with helping me and reading this story more than once. You allowed me to bounce ideas off you every day. You push me to have the confidence to write my stories. I can never thank you enough. I am lucky to have you as friends. You ladies rock as my beta readers. I appreciate your feedback and how you girls always keep it real. The three of you spent hours upon hours reading this story and always offering me honest feedback allowing me to have Juliette and Lee’s journey come to life.
To my amazing editor, Mo - you managed to make this editing process a pleasure. Thank you for helping me turn my manuscript into the best work possible.
Josh Rodriguez, thank you for educating me on the art of tattooing to ensure I had it accurate.
Thank you to my friend, who shall remain anonymous, who shared her innermost thoughts by offering her personal insight on self-harming as she struggles with it herself. She shared with me intimate details of her battle, and it allowed me to truly get in the head of my character.
A huge thank you to Sarah, Franci, Michele and Heather for proofreading Beautifully Scarred.
To Eleanor - thank you for designing the perfect cover. I told you what my vision was and you nailed it. I am in LOVE with this cover.
Bloggers: Thank you from the bottom of my heart. All of your hard work does not go unnoticed. I, myself, am also a blogger, so I know the time and dedication it takes to run a successful blog. Word of mouth is the best way for me to get my books in the hands of readers. Thank you for sharing my books and your reviews.
Last but not least, THANK YOU to the readers. Thank you for your loyalty and support and for allowing me into your hearts. Without you, none of this would be possible.
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