I nod, mentally crossing my fingers Anne will want to share the story with the world.
“I want everyone to know about my grandmother’s contribution to the war and about the man she fell in love with. I understand why she kept it a secret after the war, but there’s no reason why no one can learn about it now.” Anne’s face and eyes light up with an all-consuming smile.
She’s correct in thinking that. The British Official Secrets Act that Iris had been tied to has long since died. More and more information about the SOE and the role it played during the war is now public knowledge.
“I read the story you wrote, Jess. You’re extremely talented. I don’t know anything about the publishing industry, but I would love for you to see if you can get the book published. I want you to get credit for your hard work.”
The excitement I felt while writing the book rushes in and embraces me. “You do?”
“I do.” She reaches across the table and rests her hand on mine, her palm warm from holding her mug. “You have a lot to say, Jess. It’s about time the world listens.”
Now it’s me who’s wearing the all-consuming smile. I can’t believe how Johann ending up at Jacques’s farmhouse and falling in love with Iris was the ripple that has ultimately changed my life around. It has resulted in me having a beautiful home, friends, and a new passion and purpose in life. “Thank you! So much!” I mean that both ways: for her allowing me to see where I can take the book when it comes to being published, and for telling me it’s time the world listens to what I have to say.
My late husband might have stolen my voice, made silence my preferred language while we were married, but over the past few months, I’ve become less of the woman I once was. I’ve become more of the woman I want to be. And I have my friends and Robyn and Troy to thank for that. I have people on my side who have never shamed me for what I have to say. They have never shamed me for using my voice, and for that, I am grateful.
“Let me know how things go with the book,” Anne tells me. “I look forward to seeing what happens with it.”
“Definitely.”
Garrett has offered to read the story. Maybe he’ll have suggestions on aspects I can improve before I query agents.
For a heartbeat, I want to text Troy and tell him I’ve finished writing the book. Tell him about the real contents of the hidden room and about Iris’s secret life during the war.
But I can’t.
Because Troy has moved on, and I’m no longer part of his life.
So…I text Garrett instead, the hollow sensation in my chest, from missing Troy, heavy.
61
JESSICA
October, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“How arethings going with your relationship with Troy?” Robyn asks during our next therapy session. Until a moment ago, I was still buzzing with excitement over Anne’s and my conversation from yesterday. Robyn’s question is the swinging arc of a butcher knife, cleaving my excitement in two, letting my joy bleed out.
I wince, scrambling too late to keep the pain from showing on my face. “I ended it a month ago.” Right after my last appointment with Robyn. I hadn’t planned to bring it up, and he clearly hasn’t mentioned it to her, but we’re only a few minutes into our appointment and I’ve already revealed that knife-to-my-heart truth.
A flicker of surprise barely registers in Robyn’s expression, the otherwise calm mask of professional curiosity. She leans forward in her chair. “Do you want to discuss what happened between you two?”
No. Not really.
“Well, first, he had so much going on at the time.” The words rush out before I can stop them. And then I just let them continue to spill, my fear for him fueling them on. “I was afraid all my problems were just adding to his load. It wasn’t good for his mental health. I didn’t want him to break because of me.”
“He has been dealing with a lot lately. And so have you. That can definitely put a strain on a relationship, as well as on you both individually. You said first. Was there another reason for ending things with Troy?”
“He wants a family one day,” I blurt, my runaway mouth clearly on a roll.
Robyn doesn’t say anything, possibly waiting for me to elaborate.
My breath fans over my lips as I consider how much to divulge. But Robyn has a way of getting me to reveal my darkest secrets, so I might as well jump straight to this next truth. “I’m not sure I can give him that.”
“What do you mean?”
Her question is so straightforward. The answer isn’t. It’s convoluted and messy. It requires stripping away the layers of myself, spreading myself out bare. “I-I’ve lost Amelia…” My throat tightens with all the emotions battling to have their say. I can barely rein them in. “I-I can’t go through that again.”
