“I understand grief, Devon. And maybe you were doing okay three, four months ago. But you’ve been alone for what, five, six years?”
“About that long. Hailey was fourteen months old when Kathy died.” He didn't jolt when her hand rested on his knee. Maybe it was the lack of pressure, the lack of expectations. There’d been pain in her childhood, but she’d worked past it and made herself into someone strong and whole. He admired her, he respected her, and he was just beginning to see there could be more under the surface for the both of them. If he had the nerve to reach out and take it, she could give him everything.
“Anyone can see how much you loved her.”
“Kathy was my first.” But she didn't have to be his last, he mused.
“And you figure nobody will be able to replace her, so why try?” Chloe’s voice was gentle, the way it was when she had all the patience in the world for a cracked soul.
Devon pursed his lips. “That about sums it up.”
“So I asked her if it would be okay if I did my best to make you happy.” She scooped back the hair that blew over his arm in the sudden breeze. “And while I don’t intend to replace her, I do think you can find room in your heart for more.” When she looked up at him with depthless eyes, they seemed to say,room for me.
Devon wanted to give in to his tears, but he didn’t. How did she do that to him with just a few simple words? “I feel comfortable, comforted even, when I’m with you. You’re very pretty, and Hailey loves you.” Was that enough for a fresh start? “We’re friends, and that’s a good, solid foundation.”
“Are you willing to give it a shot?”
“To give us a shot?” He looked back at the stone, read the words again.Beloved wife and mother. Devon had often felt he’d died the same day as Kathy, but she had a date of death and he didn't.
He swallowed thickly as Chloe took his hand in hers. The wind had kicked up, swirling around the two of them until Chloe’s hair swept in his direction. It wrapped around him like a cloak; like a protective shield.
“I think she’s given us her answer.”
All his fear and uncertainty drained away at Chloe’s words. He smiled faintly, thinking of the times he felt the wind as a firm hand on his back or a screeching foe. Regardless of what it was doing, it had always made him feel Kathy’s presence. “Maybe she has.”
“You move as fast as a lame turtle with bifocals, Devon McMillan.”
The words didn't come out of Chloe’s mouth. He heard them in Kathy’s voice, felt them in his heart. It was something she used to say to him all the time. It was true, he wasn't impulsive; he liked to know where he was going and what the outcome would be before he set off on his charted course. He was a careful man, more than ever once he had a baby girl to look after on his own. He’d shuttered his heart five years ago, shouldered the responsibility of being a widower like it was a sworn duty. He hadn’t allowed himself to live. Remembering the way he’d curled up on this very grave the day of the service, he suddenly wondered if he was only now getting to his feet after years of waking death.
Standing, he held out his hand. Chloe accepted it and stood by his side. They looked down at Kathy’s gravestone together, and the wind died down.
“Thank you, Kathy, for some of the best years of my life. It’s time for me to start a new chapter now, baby.”
“I think she understands,” Chloe whispered.
He knuckled away a tear and headed toward the car, Chloe’s hand in his. Hailey skipped toward them and climbed in, and Devon gave another look back before settling in next to Chloe.
It was time to move forward.
