Sweetest Salvation Read Online Free PDF

cushioned
seat of the bay window in her bedroom. Pillows surrounded her as she gazed out
into the backyard of the two-story home she’d lived in throughout her
eight-year marriage.
    She and Patrick had looked at
dozens of houses before finding this one. The hardwood floors, three bedrooms,
office and spacious kitchen had captured their attention immediately. But the
backyard had clinched the deal.
    They’d spent many hours
working in the garden. Though they only lived about fifteen minutes from the
city, they’d planted vegetables on one side and a fair-sized section of roses
on the other. Patrick would bring her a long-stemmed rose every day when they
were in bloom, and took some to his mother who lived about ten minutes from
them. His secretary at the computer software company where he’d worked had been
often thrilled when he’d given her an armful just for putting up with him.
    God, she missed him.
    And she missed her little
boy, his laughter and cries of delight as he learned new things.
    Hell, she’d give anything to
trip over a dump truck or teddy bear again. To find a towel balled up on the
bathroom floor after Patrick showered. The little things that used to drive her
crazy were the things she missed the most.
    Peter tugging hard on her
long hair when she tried to get him dressed in the morning. Patrick’s incessant humming, or tapping a pen against the table as he
tried to figure out the crossword puzzle in the Sunday paper.
    She swallowed back the tears
that threatened and leaned her head against the window. Two small blue jays
fought for their spot at the bird feeder. She found it calming to sit and watch
them come by every morning at seven like clockwork. Since she still battled
insomnia at night, it became routine to enjoy a cup of tea and watch them fly
around her backyard.
    She sighed and closed her
eyes.
    It had been three days since
she’d fled from the club and Hunter.
    She could still picture the
look in his eyes—anger, frustration and disappointment. He’d never looked at
her like that in all the years she’d known him—until Patrick and Peter’s
deaths.
    She pushed aside the memories
of those dark days she would never escape from. Zombie-like, uncaring and
desperate just to be left alone, she only moved through life without really
living.
    Opening her eyes, she stood
and walked through her bedroom and into the kitchen.
    After setting her mug in the
sink, she leaned on the counter, head down, and her thoughts on the past.
    She was grateful for
Patrick’s planning for their future when they’d first gotten married.   He’d handled most of their finances, and his
income alone granted her the option of staying at home.
    She helped out the local
church, fundraising for donations. She’d joined many of the charity
organizations her mother-in-law, Jeanine, was a part of. After learning the
ropes in organizing various functions to raise money for hundreds of causes, Andy
had found a niche in life she excelled at, and had helped multiple charities
raise hundreds of thousands of dollars.
    In the last year, she
couldn’t find it within herself to continue doing so. Her life had been
shattered. What could she offer other causes when she had lost so much? Where
was God when she needed Him most?
    She sighed and turned toward
the fridge and opened it. Where the shelves were once filled to the brim with
fruit, juice boxes, condiments for Peter’s favorite hot dog meal, they were
nearly bare now. She grabbed a container of yogurt, closed the door and
snatched a clean spoon from the strainer of dried dishes.
    She leaned against the
counter and contemplated what she’d do today. Most days she vegged on the couch and pretended to watch movies or talk shows, but not even Ellen Degeneres could make her laugh.
    As she scooped the last bit
of yogurt from the tub, the doorbell rang. Her gaze checked the time on the
microwave—eight-fifteen. Only her in-laws stopped by these days, but never at
this early