Chapter 35

He removes his fingertips from my cheek, dots a kiss to my skin, and says, “I’m glad you said that.”

I lie still next to him, motionless, but find the strength to say, “Thank you for saving my life.”

He whispers in return, “Just remember, you saved my life first.” 38: Day 21, Debris

Following a trip to Barefoot Beach Hospital, physically unharmed by Hurricane Edwin, having a clean chart of health, Trent and I tour the damage of my bungalow. The kitchen is totally in a state of devastation. Doors are ripped off of maple cupboards and strewn over the floor. Four inches of Gulf water cover the tiles. Half of the wall facing the Gulf is no longer present, providing an open view of the sandy beach and beyond. All of the countertop appliances are dented and damaged; some are even missing. The stainless-steel appliances look beaten with iron fists, obviously ruined.