Paul nodded. “That seems reasonable.”
“What about you?” Susan asked. “Would you marry again?”
Paul was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant. “I spent twenty years convinced I didn’t deserve another chance at marriage. I thought that what happened with Michelle and Sophie disqualified me from that kind of happiness.” He brought his focus back to Susan. “But I think I might have been wrong. Maybe it’s not about deserving it, but having the courage to try again with someone who sees you clearly and chooses you anyway.”
Susan’s heart hammered against her ribs. “That’s a beautiful way to look at it.”
“But it’s also terrifying,” Paul admitted. “Which is why I’m not making any grand declarations tonight. I just needed to know if marriage is something you’d consider. Someday. With the right person.”
“Someday,” Susan agreed softly. “With the right person. If we both got there together, without forcing it or rushing it.”
“One day at a time,” Paul said.
“That sounds perfect,” Susan said with a tentative smile.
Paul pulled her toward him, and she came willingly, tucking herself against his side as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They sat in comfortable silence, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace.
“Stay a while longer,” Paul murmured. “I’ll put more logs on the fire, and you can tell me what Christmas in Georgia is like.”
Susan nodded, not quite ready to leave the warmth of Paul’s home or him.
He moved to the fireplace and arranged more logs in the firebox. Soon flames danced behind the glass doors, casting flickering light across the room.
They settled back onto the sofa together. Outside, the moon climbed higher in the winter sky. Inside, the fire crackled and warmth surrounded them.
“This is nice,” Susan said softly.
“It is.” Paul’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder. “I could get used to this.”
Susan watched the flames, thinking about Christmas memories and second chances, about marriage and the courage required to even consider it after heartbreak.
She wasn’t certain what their future held. For now, it was enough to feel Paul’s steady presence beside her, to know they’d both acknowledged that marriage wasn’t off the table, it was just waiting for the right time.
Chapter 25
Susan watched snowflakes drift past Kathleen’s café windows, each one catching the warm interior light before dissolving against the glass. Outside, Sapphire Bay looked like a picture-perfect postcard. She pulled her cardigan closer and took another sip of her herbal tea, savoring the moment before chaos descended.
In three days, Lynda would marry Matt in the barn at the Paws of Hope Animal Shelter. That didn’t leave them much time to create a wedding venue worthy of her friend’s second chance at happiness.
The café door opened, bringing a swirl of cold air and Isabel’s laugh. She stamped snow from her boots, her cheeks pink from the winter chill. “You should see Main Street,” she told Susan. “Frank says this is the heaviest December snow we’ve had since he moved here.”
“The traffic must be terrible,” Susan said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.
“Terrible implies there was traffic to begin with.” Isabel unwound her scarf and draped it over the back of the chair. “I passed two cars on the drive here. Two. This town practically shuts down when it snows.”
Kathleen emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with sandwiches and soup bowls. Her café smelled of fresh bread and roasted vegetables, scents that made Susan’s chest ache with a familiar professional longing. After years of creating these aromas in commercial kitchens, she still felt the pull of feeding people well.
“Lynda just texted,” Kathleen announced, setting plates around the table. “She’s running ten minutes late. Apparently, someone brought in a dog who’d eaten an entire plate of cookies meant for Santa.”
Isabel laughed. “Was the dog okay?”
“The dog will survive. The cookies did not.” Kathleen poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them. “Which gives us exactly ten minutes to work out how we’re going to decorate the barn tomorrow. Is the ceremony still starting at five?”
Susan pulled out her notebook. “It is, and the reception starts immediately after the service.”
Isabel reached for a sandwich. “How many guests are coming?”
“As of this morning, still thirty,” Susan replied. “There’ll be finger food, wedding cake, and dancing until people decide to brave the drive home.” Susan flipped to another page. “Paul’s handling the food from his restaurant kitchen. I’m doing the cake and coordinating everything else on-site.”