By Chance

Alternate Epilogue

I decided to write this alternate version of the epilogue because I couldn't get over Brady's death, even a few years after writing it. Poor guy finally found happiness and a future to look forward to and I killed him, his murderer being a disgusting human who should have never had the satisfaction of getting what he wanted by killing Brady. So, if you decide to read this, enjoy.

Summer's POV

Two centimeters. Thirty seconds.

My entire life, I've never been a believer of miracles. I guess that's what happens when you're the daughter of a single mother and an absent drug-addicted father; I guess what's what happens when you get into a relationship with a man who loves you in all the wrong ways and hurts you mentally, physically, and emotionally.

And, although it was a coincidence that saved my life, I don't view my relationship with Brady as a "miracle". A blessing, definitely. A surprise. The best thing to ever happen to me. But a miracle? Not so much.

However, my entire perspective on the word miracle has changed. Because what just came out of the doctor's mouth was surely just that: a miracle.

"Your boyfriend is very lucky. Had the bullets hit him two centimeters to the left or had the medics arrived even thirty seconds later, he'd be dead. Count your blessings, Ms. Price. Brady was saved by a miracle, by someone watching over him."

Tears burst, my body violently shook as I sobbed in relief. He's okay. He's okay. He's okay.

I thought I lived through sheer terror when Lance was assaulting me. I thought that was as bad as it got.

I was so, so wrong.

Watching Brady's weak and bloodied body fail to keep him alive is an image that will be stuck in my mind forever. The simple recollection of it makes me queasy and wracked with panic.

"When can I see him?" I ask the doctor.

"He's still under anesthetic right now. We're unsure when he'll wake. You can visit him whenever you'd like, but be prepared for what you're about to see: he's incredibly weak and on many medications to ease his pain that will make him loopy. He's also got a severe concussion and his entire torso is wrapped in bandages to cover his incision from surgery."

I nod along, not caring what he looks like. He's alive. That's all that matters; that's all that will ever matter. "His room number?"

"Follow me," the doctor falls into step in front of me, leading me down several hallways in the ICU before coming to a halt. Through the glass, I can see his sleeping body, his breaths slow. "I'll give you two a minute. You mentioned he'd be expecting more visitors soon?"

"His brother and sister-in-law, Kaine and Gracie Holt. They're flying in from their honeymoon. They should be here in a few hours."

"We'll be sure to look out for them. Thanks for letting us know beforehand. I'll give you and Brady some privacy."

I thank him before he walks away. Taking a deep breath to soak up the fact he's okay, I slowly make my way into his room and towards his bed.

My sweet boy. He looks tired and pale, his body exhausted from its great fight to keep him alive. The doctor said someone was watching over him while Lance hurt him repeatedly, and I wholeheartedly believe that.

A smile erupts on my face and a tear slides down my eyes as I take ahold of his cold hand, imagining his parents and little sister being his guardian angels through it all. What I was told is true: he wasn't supposed to make it out of that house.