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My horse, Sonora, was a natural in the sandy conditions, galloping at a steady pace. Palmer horses were the best in the business, and I knew these animals had been hand-picked by Ozzie himself for the occasion. A laugh trilled from my throat as my locs danced in the air behind me. It was like nature had conspired with Oz to ensure a perfect day. Lately days like this were few and far between, so I held them close to my heart when they presented themselves.

When we arrived back where we started, the space had been transformed, with blankets and a picnic basket on the sand. Ozzie wrapped his arms around my waist as I dismounted Sonora.

After thanking Randall, one of the ranch hands, Ozzie led the way to the blanket. “I thought since we worked up an appetite, it would be nice to enjoy a meal and the view.”

When I took a seat, he helped me remove my shoes so I could stick my toes into the sand. “You thought of everything.”

“I try.” He dropped to the oversized blanket.

“Thanks for this.” I brushed my locs over my shoulder.

“Any time, every time.” Ozzie opened the basket, pulling out bite-sized treats of cheese, meat, bread, and fruit.

What if? was a loaded question that filled me with dread and hope. When we’d ended, my existence was consumed with what-ifs. What if I could explain the fear and crippling anxiety that plagued my every waking thought? What if Oz had listened to me instead of his parents? What if I’d figured out what was going on with me sooner? What if I hadn’t been a danger to my child’s life? Normally, I didn’t entertain such questions because they only ever came after the damage had already been done.

But today was different, because this new crop of what-ifs was centered on the future, not the past. What if we could push through all the hurt to get to a healthy place? What if Oz and I were destined to find our way back together? What if we could make it work this time?

“Now that you’ve ticked riding horses on a beach and enrolling in college off your drunken bucket list, what do you wanna do next?”

“Hell, I can barely remember the shit I added to this imaginary list.”

“I do.”

“Whatever I said was purely for your entertainment. None of it really meant anything.” I reached for a cheese square.

“You aren’t a just talking type of person. There’s intention behind every one of your words.”

“What about you and your dream of building a home?”

“What about it?”

“You’ve been talking about that for as long as I’ve known you. Shit, none of us are getting any younger. You should do it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I’m waiting for a really rare item. But it’s always out of stock.”

I popped a grape in my mouth. “You might wanna let go of that dream part and just pivot.”

“Can’t… it’s integral to making my house a home.”

It took a few seconds for understanding to wash over me. Ozzie was talking about me. I was the missing piece. Building a home had been his dream, and then it was ours. But when we broke up, I had tucked all my hopes and dreams in a steel box and dumped it into the lake of Lost Fortune. Hope is dangerous, because when you put your faith in something and it doesn’t work out, then you’re left broken. At least, that was how it’d always worked with me. I was strong, but not strong enough to lose this man twice in one lifetime.

Unable to help myself, I asked the question tickling at my brain. “Do you genuinely think this can work?”

“Hell yeah. I never stopped believing in us, Dee—you did.”

Squinting against the sun, I said, “I didn’t stop so much as accept the writing on the wall.”

“Life hack: some things are fixable if you want it badly enough.” He plunged his hand in the sand before letting it run through his fingers.

Never did I think we’d be having this conversation, talking about options and potential. Sitting on this beach with the ocean as our soundtrack, everything seemed simpler. Which was weird, because by definition Hume was a simple, cozy town. But in Hume, everywhere I turned I was confronted with the past and all the odds that were stacked against us.

“What would fixing us look like?” I asked.

“Trusting each other, for starters. Pushing past the fear for the possibility of something better on the other side.”

I squirmed in my seat at the intensity in his eyes. “And if we fail?” This was the most likely outcome. We were an open-book test and still managed to get most of the answers wrong.

Ozzie shrugged like defeat wasn’t something he was interested in entertaining. “I will never stop fighting for us. If not today, then maybe tomorrow. Who else is going to listen to my retelling of the glory days when I’m seventy?”