“You might not be her stepmother like you wanted, but you’re still her family. You’ll still be family to her even when she no longer needs a nanny.” He lowers Peony to the floor. She drops next to her toy xylophone and bangs haphazardly on it.
Garrett walks over to us and rests his hand on the lower curve of my spine. “Have you two finished talking?”
“We have.” I share a relieved glance with Athena. Now that I know where she’s coming from, we can reboot our relationship and send it in a new direction. “I hope this means we can finally be friends,” I tell her.
Her face lights up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. “I’d like that. Thank you. Both of you, thank you.”
Garrett’s hand shifts from my back, and he threads his fingers with mine. “There’s something I want to show you,” he tells me.
“Okay?”
We walk down the hallway to the front door. While I was talking to Athena, he moved my shoes here from the laundry room.
He pulls on his sneakers, and I slip on the ones he bought me in New Orleans. He doesn’t tell me where we’re going, and I don’t ask.
Outside, he takes my hand and leads me to the spot on the driveway that causes me heartache. The spot where Emily died. My stomach twists and my palms slicken and my pulse whooshes loudly in my ears.
There’s no mark on the driveway where I last saw Emily—nothing to show this is the spot where my incredible friend took her last breath. A shipping box, three feet tall, stands in its place.
Garrett softly kisses me, and that’s all it takes to ease the rush of adrenaline. To make it easier to breathe.
“I hope it’s all right with you…I wanted to create a memorial for Em.” The deep bass of his voice is heavy with unspoken questions. Questions that leave me curious about what’s in the box.
He opens it and lifts out a stone angel statue in prayer. Long hair cascades over slim shoulders and intricately carved wings. She’s serenely, stunningly, heartbreakingly beautiful.
“She’s perfect,” I whisper past the hot grief wedged in my throat. “Emily would’ve loved it.” If she could see it from heaven, I know she would be smiling.
Garrett positions the angel among the purple asters in the flower bed, next to where Emily’s life was tragically stolen.
He returns to my side and wraps me in a hug, pulling me to him, my back pressed to his chest. And I rest my head on his shoulder, absorbing the strength of this amazingly sweet man.Myamazingly sweet and wonderful man.
The birds in the trees cheerfully chirp a tune Emily would approve of…and we say our silent, final goodbyes to our friend.
EPILOGUE
GARRETT
Two Years Later
Peony walksdown the grassy aisle in time to the string quartet’s version of “With You in My Arms.”
With each step she takes, dropping rose petals from her basket, the hem of her pale-pink flower-girl dress swishes against her legs.
I can’t get over how my little girl is almost four years old.
She reaches the front row, where Zara and I are seated. Flashing us her trademark sassy grin, she waves and blows a kiss for her baby brother asleep in my arms.
Her adorable gesture is greeted with a light chorus of “Awww” from those seated around us. She gives her audience a big silly smile and a wave, then skips down the row to join us.
Zara puts Peony’s small basket on the ground by her chair and hugs our daughter. She says something in Peony’s ear that has our little girl nodding excitedly.
My beautiful wife of sixteen months straightens, beams at me, andleans in for a kiss. I happily oblige. I never turn down the chance to kiss her—whether it be in public or behind closed doors.
Kenan stirs in my arms at the movement, but his little eyelids remain shut. Long black lashes fan against golden-brown skin. He’s the perfect combination of Zara and me.
Zara kisses our two-month-old small-miracle’s cheek. And like magic, he settles back to sleep.
I missed out on Peony being this age. I’m glad I won’t miss out on Kenan’s early years. My publisher agreed to slow my release schedule to a book a year for the time being so I can focus on the things that matter—my career, yes, but mostly my friends, my wife, and my beautiful children.
