Finding Opa! Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the woman he loved shook him to his core. Shivering not because of the cool air but because of the quaking trauma of her death, he mumbled her name on his lips then heaved a heavy sigh of defeat.
     
    Even as he slept, she haunted him. The memories of his untimely loss overwhelmed him, causing him to ball up his fists in fury. How could a woman so wonderful with so much to give to this world be taken in her prime?
     
    “Why?!!” he cried out as he sat up in the bed. That was a recurring question that had never been answered. Why did she have to die? Why did she have to leave him? Why couldn’t she have survived? Why? Why? Why?
     
    The rush of adrenaline shot through his veins and quickened the pace of his aching heart. Tears ran down his cheeks in heavy hot drops that salted his lips. Wiping them quickly, he looked around disoriented and realized that he was in the lonely confines of his home. The desolate silence made his reality even more sobering. Batting his watery eyes, he moved out of his nightmare into the present with a bitter resolve.
     
    After seeing his patients, he had darted home to get ready for his date with Stacey. He cleaned his waterfront loft quickly, throwing clothes in baskets and dishes in the dishwater then jumped in the shower.
     
    Honestly, he had fallen asleep feeling rather hopeful. But his thoughts had drifted off towards the woman he had lost, and he had woken up in his normal fashion – alone and frantic.
     
    The bed creaked a little as he pushed his body towards the end of the mattress and sank his feet into the plush rug below. Slumped over, he ran his hands through is hair and tried to calm down. How was he supposed to impress this new woman if he showed up utterly depressed over the old one?
     
    A crisp breeze rushed in and greeted him, reminding him that there was now a lot less time to tarry. Finally finding the strength somewhere in the pit of his soul, he stood up and made his way to his closet, passing the picture of his beloved wife on the nightstand as he went. He stopped and looked at her photo.
     
    “I hope you understand what I’m attempting to do,” he said to the photo of her in her wedding gown. “The psychiatrist seems to think that I’m living in the past, but I tried to explain to him that everyone’s grieving period is different. I mean, there are men who go decades without dating after their wives pass away.”
     
    He could nearly hear her voice respond. “You don’t have decades,” he could imagine her saying. “What about children? What about a family of your own?”
     
    Hunter knew that it wasn’t his wife responding to him but his own silent desires. He wasn’t getting any younger. Everyone he knew was at least attempting to build a family. Yet, he was stagnant – dangling in the balance as people passed him by.
     
    More than anything, he wanted to be that dad on the playground with his kid who looked happy because he was happy. He wanted a schedule full of things to do with his own family. Also, he didn’t want to be the attractive but extremely reclusive bachelor for the rest of his life.
     
    He walked to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans. “But what if she gets to know me, and she thinks that I’m absolutely and unequivocally the wrong guy?” Throwing his pants on the bed, he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers. He threw up his index finger in protest. “Plus, she could only be doing this to write her book, or because she feels sorry for me.”
     
    He closed the dresser drawer and looked at himself in the mirror. “I don’t know which one would be worse. Either way, I’m going to give this my best shot. So, when it doesn’t work, I have an excuse to keep on being alone. And I can tell people that I tried, but I’m just not ready to go back out there again.”
     
    Hunter knew that he was setting himself up for failure. To talk down the possibility of a good relationship before he even gave it a chance