The Life Intended Read Online Free PDF

recognize the layout, the hardwood floors I’d once loved, the walls I’d once pounded on while screaming and demanding to know how God could have taken my husband away. I can’t understand what’s happening.
    “Katielee? You okay?” Patrick asks with concern, cutting into my confused train of thoughts and bringing me back down to earth.
    I can feel tears rolling down my cheeks as I struggle to say something in return, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a meaningless string of vowels. A part of me is wondering if this is a dream, but the longer I’m here, the more convinced I am it’s not. After all, I’ve never dreamed this vividly and in this much detail before. Then again, if I’m not dreaming, what explanation is there?
    Patrick sits down beside me on the bed. “You must have had a rougher night than I thought, honey,” he says with a chuckle.
    Then he reaches out to stroke my arm, and my whole body feels suddenly like it’s on fire. He feels so real, and it startles me so much that I pull away and then instantly regret it, because I’d do anything in the world to have his hands on my skin.
    “What is it, Kate?” he asks, reaching up to wipe my tears away. “What’s wrong?”
    “You’re alive!” I finally manage to choke out between sobs. His hand on my face is the only thing grounding me. I have the sudden feeling that if he moves away again, I’ll simply drift straight out the open window and back to the reality in which I belong.
    “Of course I’m alive,” he says, looking puzzled.
    I sniffle and try to explain. “But you . . . you died twelve years ago.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, thewhole room goes fuzzy. I reach out in a panic, groping for him.
    “Honey, what are you talking about?” His voice sounds very far away. “Why would you say something like that?”
    “Because—” I pause as the world around me continues to fade. Abruptly, I wonder whether my doubt is making this reality disappear. Isn’t that what happens when one shakes the foundation of a dream? All of a sudden, regardless of what this is, I’m desperate to stay here for as long as I can, so I take a deep breath, force a feeble smile, and say in a rush, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry. You’re obviously right here.”
    The room comes instantly back into focus— Patrick comes back into focus—and my heart skips a beat. For a few seconds, I look around in wonder, taking it all in. The impossibly blue sky outside the window. The technicolor yellow of the roses on the bureau. The searingly red glow of the numbers on our digital bedside clock. It’s like someone has turned up the color dial by fifty percent, making everything more beautiful. I look back at Patrick, and although he seems to almost glow in the overly saturated room, he still looks like himself. Except that he’s frowning.
    “Katielee, you’re scaring me,” he says. The room flickers again, and I grab his hand in a panic.
    “No, I’m sorry,” I hurry to say. “I think I was having a bad dream.”
    The minute the words are out of my mouth, I find myself wishing fervently that they’re somehow true. What if this isn’t the dream? What if everything that has happened in the last twelve years is instead the strange fiction?
    “You dreamed that I was dead?” He looks concerned, and I can feel my eyes filling with tears.
    “Patrick, it was the worst thing I could have imagined. You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here.”
    He gives me another strange look before pulling away. “You’re being really weird this morning. Why don’t I go get you some ibuprofen and a cup of coffee, okay?” He stands up and takes a step toward the door, and before I know what I’m doing, I lurch out of bed and grab his arm in a panic.
    “Please don’t go!” I cry. I’m terrified that if I let him stride out of the room, I’ll never see him again.
    “Okay,” he says slowly. “Would you