And Then Life Was Beautiful

and then life was beautiful HANSON FAMILY BOOK ONE ASIA MONIQUE Copyright © 2023 by Asia Monique All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales or, is entirely coincidental. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the writer’s permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. contents Synopsis Trigger Warnings Quote I. Where We Are 1. Couri Mitchell 2. August Hanson 3. Couri 4. August 5. Couri 6. August II. Where We Began 7. Couri 8. August 9. Couri 10. August III. Where We Left Off 11. Couri 12. August 13. Couri 14. August 15. Couri 16. August 17. Couri 18. August 19. Couri 20. August 21. Couri 22. August 23. Couri 24. August 25. Couri 26. August 27. Couri 28. August 29. Couri 30. August IV. Where We Ended Up 31. Couri 32. August 33. Couri 34. August Epilogue One Epilogue Two Epilogue Three Epilogue Four Author Notes synopsis Couri Mitchell August Hanson was the silent type, the kind who spoke through his actions and not his words. He possessed enough power to make me feel safe and secure. I was ready to open up and share the parts of myself I’d never shared with another, and then I got hit with a truth that changed everything. There was a slight chance he’d still want me, only he had to accept our baby, too. August Hanson Couri Mitchell was my type, the kind you married the first chance you got. She possessed enough power to silence the chaos around me. I was ready to grab ahold of her and never let go, and then I got hit with a truth that changed everything. There was a slight chance she’d still want me, only she had to accept my daughter, too. trigger warnings Grief Parental death Pregnancy Cancer Death during childbirth (off-page) quote Sometimes the right place is a person. PART ONE where we are “Death must exist for life to have meaning.” –Neal Shusterman ONE couri mitchell The present… “Shit,” I cursed, staring at two bright pink lines before shifting my gaze toward the plus four on the digital test next to it. Life wasn’t shaping out how I’d imagined it would. If anything, it showed me that not all of our plans were meant to unfold how we wanted. I was living proof of that. Pregnant. As I choked on my laughter, I slid the tests into my purse, washed my hands, and left the guest bathroom at my sister’s place. There was no time to think about how my life was about to change, not with my cousin barreling at me the moment her watery eyes found mine in the sea of people—all dressed in dark clothing—milling about. “I’m so sorry, Couri,” Nani cried, dramatically falling into my arms. “Auntie was the best; she’ll be missed.” I hummed and patted her back, my gaze fixated on the lingering sad eyes of family and friends alike, waiting to repeat the exact words my cousin had. I figured Nani needed to be consoled more than I did, so I let her get it out and then stepped away to accept words from the rest of the guests. I allowed people to apologize for my mother’s death for a few minutes. The more they used the five-letter word in an obscene variation of sentences, the number I became to it. My heart didn’t ache anymore, and my hands had finally stopped shaking since getting the news. It took one week to plan her funeral. Seven whole days to follow her carefully laid out instructions, right down to the type of casket and burial outfit. One hundred and sixty-eight hours of trying to remind myself that we had been prepared for this outcome. That my mother had battled hard and fiercely until the very end. She was the epitome of strength and the perfect example of accepting when being strong wasn’t the answer. My mother was the best, and I would never be the same without her. “Excuse me,” I mumbled, pulling away from the man who had lived next door to us when I was a teen. He still smelled like cigarette smoke and something stale I couldn’t quite place. I gagged a little while I walked through my sister’s home, into the kitchen, and then out the backdoor onto the oversized deck her husband had built recently. One side was stained a dark chestnut shade, while the other still had the store-bought light tan color. Grateful for today's crisp air, I sucked in as much as possible and then released it a few times. The wind rustled the thick brush of trees around the yard, and I watched the leaves shift in that direction as it blew. “What do you think of the chestnut?” King asked as he stepped beside me and tossed his arm over my shoulder. I leaned some of my weight into him and sighed. Kingston, Journi, and I grew up together on Detroit's east side. I was five years younger than them but knew they’d been stary-eyed for one another from the day he and his mother moved in next door to us. At some point during their time at Michigan State University, they’d made things official and married exactly one month after graduation. King was the best chosen big brother a girl could have asked for. I found a love for the game of basketball because of him. He’d been the guy who always bounced a ball around the neighborhood, even though he was a star wide receiver at one of the best high schools the Detroit Public School system had to offer. Kingston had been all legs and arms