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“He had it in his head that I would move to America. He thought I would just give up the shop and follow him,” she said.

“Well, that goes to show he doesn’t know the first thing about you. Stupid man,” Sylvia muttered.

“Maybe. In the end, neither of us was willing to budge.”

“I’m sorry, Izzie.”

She gave a little smile. “Thank you.”

“Do you love him?”

It was the question that had been her companion morning, noon, and night since she and Jack had parted. No matter how she looked at it, she came back to the same conclusion every time.

“I was infatuated with him,” she said slowly. “And I think I could have loved him, eventually.”

“But you love working and this shop more,” said Sylvia, finishing her thought.

In that moment Izzie knew her sister understood her more than Jack ever could. They were cut from the same cloth and, although their lives had gone down vastly different paths, that bond could not be broken so long as they both tried to keep it alive.

“Sylvia, I must apologize,” she started. “I’ve spent far too much time angry at you for choosing a different life and feeling left behind. However, I could have done more. I could have picked up the telephone. I could have written to you or marched up to your flat and insisted that you see me. Instead, I resented you, and I let that resentment fester.

“I’d like to try to be sisters again,” she finished.

“Oh, Izzie,” said Sylvia. “I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone when I distanced myself, but I can see now that it was cruel. I shouldn’t have kept things from you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” said Izzie.

“That changes now.” Sylvia drew in a breath. “Starting with the news that I’ve decided to divorce Hugo.”

“You have?” Izzie asked. “Oh, Sylvia, that’s wonderful news!”

Her sister laughed. “Well, I’m glad my instincts were correct in thinking that you wouldn’t be unhappy to see the back of him.”

“I’m sorry that he hurt you, but I’m glad he won’t be able to any longer,” she said. “Is Willie going to help you?”

“No. He can’t.”

“Why not?” she asked.

Sylvia looked down at her beautifully manicured nails. “William told me that he—”

“Has been in love with you ever since he first laid eyes on you?”

“Izzie!”

She fell back in her chair laughing. “Believe me when I say that you are the only person that this is news to. The entire road knew, Sylvia. Mrs. Reynolds practically had your wedding date set, but then you met Hugo.”

“Goodness,” Sylvia breathed.

“And how do you feel about him?”

Sylvia smiled sweetly. “I like him. Very much. It’s too soon to say anything more.”

That was the Sylvia she remembered, practical to a T.

“That seems very sensible to me,” said Izzie.

They settled back in their chairs, a calm passing between them that hadn’t been there in many years. It felt good to be together, in the shop their mother had built. There was a legacy in those walls that was undeniable. One she was deeply proud of.