My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance) Read Online Free PDF

her out. She was aware of the dangers of sleep apnea—had read on the internet how it could lead to all kinds of nasty stuff, including heart disease and stroke. Coupled with the high blood pressure her husband already took medication for, he was a heart attack waiting to happen.
    And she wasn’t prepared for widowhood.
    She saw what it had done to her daughter.
    Poor Maggie.
Her chest tightened at the thought of how much her daughter had already been through.
    And now Russ had gone away to college—another reason to worry. And, of course, there was the Maggie/Jeff dinner that had niggled at the back of Rosemary’s brain all night.
    She’d hoped Maggie would call back and tell her what had transpired, but she didn’t, and Rosemary wasn’t surprised, although it hurt a little.
    She tossed the extra pillow onto the love seat and turned out the light, sliding down in the bed to get comfortable. Maggie used to talk about everything with her. But her daughter had become so withdrawn since Zeke’s death that she didn’t recognize her at times. Closing herself off from the world, grieving for Zeke in such a vastly different way than she had for Jeff. When Jeff left, she’d cried for days on end. Refused to leave the bedroom. Refused to eat. Talked about him incessantly—so positive he would come back, and they would start again.
    She’d kept up that nonsense for years.
    But losing Zeke affected her differently. She’d quickly sold their beautiful home on Kentucky Lake, and rather than moving back to Taylor’s Grove, she’d bought the old Morris farmhouse outside of town. She would talk about Zeke only if someone brought up his name—and then reluctantly. She never brought him into the conversation on her own.
    She had seemed angry, which Rosemary knew was one of the stages of grief. She’d read that on the internet, too. But it certainly had gone on for a long time now. Too long. Maggie didn’t date. Didn’t do much of anything except work and spend time with Russ.
    What would she do now that he was gone?
    Eli’s breathing stopped again, and Rosemary began her ritualistic counting. She wasn’t sure why she counted. He was never impressed with the numbers she spouted the next morning. Tomorrow, over coffee, she would report to him that he’d held his breath for almost thirty-five seconds. He’d shrug and say, “So which do you want—snoring or silence? Because you complain either way.”
    Her retort would be that she wanted him healthy.
    What would she do without him? The previous question echoed in her mind. Maggie was young—could easily start over. But she herself was sixty-one and had been with the same man for forty years. She had no desire to start over. She could never love another man the way she did Eli. Could never love again, period. The thought made her shudder.
    Was it her imagination that Eli’s color was off?
    She slipped her phone from the bedside table and turned on the flashlight app, shining it down on his face—the man could sleep through a rock concert once he got horizontal. He looked so peaceful and relaxed but definitely a little grayish in pallor.
    One eye winked open and glared at her. “What are you doing, Rosie? Checking me for fleas?”
    “You’ve been holding your breath.”
    “And you’re getting back at me by shining a light into my eyes? You trying to make me think a train is coming through our bedroom?”
    “I wanted to check your color. You look kind of gray.”
    “You’d be gray, too, if you had to live with you. Now turn off the damn searchlight.”
    She turned it off and placed the phone back on the table, but not because he told her to do it. She was finished looking... Definitely gray. They would resume this conversation in the morning. She settled under the covers again.
    “Rosie.” Eli’s tender whisper shimmied through the darkness. “Slide back over here, and I’ll make
you
hold
your
breath.”
    She laughed and did as he asked, snuggling into the