Fear. It’s all around us. It finds a way inside, lodging deep within, refusing to surrender. It latches on, following you on this path called life. The way it makes our bodies tremble through our core, perspire with one thought, or makes our hearts feel as if they’re coming to a standstill, causing all blood flow to rush from our head to our toes. It’s the one word that can instantly cause our breathing to become slow and labored, stirring up the worst emotions within.

Suddenly my chest becomes too tight to bear. My legs go numb and my arms feel weak. My heart is beating too fast and, no matter how much I pray for it to slow, and the tight pain to go away, it doesn’t.

I’m gasping for air. “My chest. It’s too tight.” I claw at my shirt, as if I could rip it off. The once soft fabric now feels like fire, burning away my flesh.

“Mom, I don’t think she’s okay!”

“Aundrea?!”

“I can’t breathe. My ... tight … the pain … it won’t stop. I can’t feel my arms, or …” Oh my God, this is it.

I fall to my knees.

“Is she having a heart attack?” Panicky, Genna stands and yells for my dad.

Every dream I’ve had, every sense of hope—everything I’ve feared is burning them away right before my eyes.

Death.

It’s easy to forget what matters most when you’re distracted by your deepest fear, which, in my case, is leaving behind everyone I cherish most. Sometimes it’s the most disturbing thoughts that tunnel their way to your core and hold on, no matter how hard you try to shake them.

The afterlife doesn’t scare me. The unknown can be magical when you really think about it. The beauty of possibility.

There are muffled voices around me, yelling and screaming, but my eyes are frozen. I can’t move my head to see who’s speaking. I can’t even be certain where I am at the moment.

I begin to feel like I’m floating and it’s then that I realize I’m being put on a stretcher. There are two men yelling. Why are they yelling? Are they yelling at me?

A cold rush of air startles me as a mask is put over my face. It’s the first time I get a deep, fulfilling breath since this all started.

“You’re going to be okay. Keep your eyes open for me, okay?” one of the men instructs, leaning close to my face.

I try to nod, but he shakes his head. “Don’t try to move.” I go cold, every limb gone numb. Then, pain.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much pain in all my life. It’s as if a hundred men are standing on top of me, stabbing my chest with razor-sharp knives. I swear, with each jab of pain I can hear the crack of the blades stabbing deeper inside of me, slowly ripping me apart. Then the pain pierces my heart and I cry out.

“Someone needs to call Parker!” Genna screams.

The men start running and I feel like I’m flying. The wind washes over me and it’s almost calming.

My surroundings go blurry as I’m lifted. Everything is happening so fast. My shirt is ripped open and freezing stickers are placed on my chest.

Cries fill my ears, drowning out the loud banging from the men moving around. I don’t know where I am, but when I hear my mom say, “Parker, its Aundrea. We’re going to the hospital,” I let my eyes drift closed and just pray the pain will stop. And that Parker will get to me before it’s too late.

Three Months Earlier

The future.

It’s terrifying to think about.

Sometimes life can be run by our emotions; how we feel about ourselves can dictate the path our life takes.

Before Parker entered my life, I didn’t think about tomorrow, much less my future. But he changed me. The day he told me he could see my future was the day I knew I would stop at nothing to make sure I saw the start and end of each day. For him.

For us. It’s when our future began.

“Aundrea?” a gentle voice asks, breaking me from my thoughts. I shiver as Parker grasps my hand, helping me. My senses are heightened, trying to glean some clue as to where we are.

“Can I look now?” I giggle, nearly tripping over the uneven ground. The blindfold Parker had me put on before leaving our apartment slips a little as I catch my balance, but it doesn’t fall off.

His grip on my arm tightens as he chuckles. “Almost. A couple more steps.”

He guides me up a small set of steps, loosening his hold as we reach the top. He lets go of my arm, but doesn’t say a word; only the sound of crickets fills the night air. A welcome breeze kisses my face softly.

My ears perk up at the sound of a key entering a lock. “Where are we?” I ask, even though I know he won’t answer. I have a strong urge to just rip off the blindfold.

“We have one last tiny ledge to step over, so careful now.” Holding my elbow, he leads me through the door. A few steps in, we stop abruptly. “Okay, open.”

I pull down the blindfold and blink away blurriness as my eyes adjust.

“What is this?” I stand, breathless, taking in my surroundings. Before me is a large open layout of living space leading into what a glimpse suggests is a kitchen. I look down, shuffling my feet. I’m standing on dark, rich hardwood floors that run into the most beautiful, detailed floor molding I have ever seen. To my side is a large, wide staircase leading to an open space that overlooks where we’re standing.

Of course, I know what this is—a house—so my question should really be, “Why are we here?”

Parker steps in front of me, taking one of my hands in his. I look up, meeting my husband’s crystal blue eyes.