Mine *don't read: being rewritten*

Chapter Twelve

(Riley's POV)

I wake up shivering, with Hunter's hand resting on my waist. I put my hand on top Hunter's, and am filled with relief when it's warm, as it always is. I move my hand to the spot right over his heart, and find it beating steady. I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heart beat to the rate of his, ignoring the tears on my face.

Hunter wakes up when he feels me shifting under the covers. He sighs in relief when he sees me. "Bad dream?" He asks. I nod. He laughs a little. "Me too, but it wasn't real. I'm still here, you're right there. We're okay." I nod, but don't move my hand from that spot right over his heart.

"Sleep. It'll be okay. I promise." He pulls me closer to him, and kisses the top of my head. I know that he's right there, and I know that he's okay, but I can't get the image of a bullet going through his heart-with Adam behind the trigger-out of my head. But, with one more deep breath, I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.

~

In the morning, Hunter doesn't have to say anything. We eat breakfast in silence, then go back to my place so I can get ready.

He kisses my forehead before we walk into the funeral home. I take a deep breath, preparing myself to start planning my mother's funeral.

It's hard, but I make it through. Hunter helps with a lot, making decisions that I can't.

~

At about 5:00, we're back home. Hunter takes me into his arms for about the fiftieth time that day. I don't think he knows what to say, so he just holds me, and it's nice. He puts his chin on top of my head, and smooths my hair down.

I pull away after a minute. "What now?" I wonder aloud.

"Now," Hunter starts, "I leave so you can write your eulogy." He raises his eyebrows, telling me that he's waiting for me to confirm what he just said.

"No, you stay while I write the eulogy." I need him here. It's not like I can have him help me, but his presence will make me feel better.

"Yes, ma'am." He kisses my forehead.

I sigh, and lean back into him, not ready to start writing it yet. I rest my forehead on his chest, and wish my head didn't hurt as bad as it does. "It'll be over soon. I promise. The pain, no. I doubt it'll ever go away. The pain... the pain will stay with you forever. But this-the having to think about it and having to plan for her funeral and having to write a eulogy and just everything-it'll be over soon, I promise."

"I love you," I whisper. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Riley Ann."

~

I cry as I write the eulogy. I sit at the kitchen table, and Hunter sits in the living room, watching me from the couch. I hear him walk up behind me, and feel his hands on my shoulders. His touch is gentle, soft, and calms me completely. He bends over, so his face is next to mine, his hands still on my shoulders. After a minute, one hand is on my face, brushing the tears away. He doesn't say anything; he just stands there and watches over my shoulder as I write.

"Done," I mutter, tears still falling. I feel his soft lips meet my cheek, then they move to my forehead, then my nose, and finally I feel his lips on my own. We move in sync; he lifts me from the chair, his hands now resting on my waist, my hands on his chest. I move my hands to the back of his neck; one tangled in his hair. His move up my back, and pull me closer to him.

I pull away from the kiss, and rest my head on his chest. "Just make it until Wednesday, okay? After Wednesday, it'll be over."

"Okay."