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Darrel stands and looks down at me. “You being able to do this forherand not for you, makes you a better man, and it means that whoever is in your next relationship will be a lucky woman.”
“There won’t be a next time for me.”
“You don’t know that.” Darrel smiles softly. “As horrible as it feels right now, this is good. She showed you how to open your heart to somebody. She showed you that it’s possible.”
I say nothing.
Darrel sighs and pats my back. It’s a silent show of comfort and it’s the last he offers me before he leaves.
As I sit alone in the dark, my body gets restless.
All I can see is Island smiling down at Taz.
Hands extended.
Eyes bright.
I’ve lost my interest in shooting, so I pick my heart off the ground and drive to collect Abe and Regan from the farmhouse.
“Dad!” Abe rushes straight toward me when I open the door of the farmhouse. “We did it. Micheal, Bailey and Rowan helped. We found out how to crack the safe.”
“Let’s discuss this at home, bud,” I murmur, more exhausted than I’ve ever been in my life.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” Ms. Hansley offers. She gestures to a man puttering in the kitchen. “Ezekiel makes a mean brew.”
“No, but I appreciate you watching them tonight.”
“These kids are like my own grandchildren. It’s an honor.”
I nod in response, glad to hear that. Going forward, I might need to call on her more frequently.
After all the children wave goodbye and Belle goes to hug Regan one more time, I usher my kids into my car. They’re both chatty, which is typical for Regan and atypical for Abe.
It seems like they really enjoyed their night with the others.
I force myself to be present in the conversation and respond when it seems appropriate.
At home, Abe dashes out of the car. For the first time, it’s not because he wants to get away from me but because he wants to go to the safe.
“Let’s go, daddy!” Regan urges me to follow him.
I pad to the office, set Regan down and watch Abe tap in the password.
His tongue darts out and he concentrates hard. “It’s three letters. The clue was the tours you and mom served. The letters are the names of the cities where you fought. T.O.B.” His voice trails as he hits ‘enter’.
The safe lights up.
A ‘click’ sounds.
The door pops open.
Abe’s eyes widen and he grins at me.
I nod and gesture for him to check out the safe.
He pulls out pictures of Anya, her awards, trophies, paintings and journals. My heart is heavy, but it’s not because I’m mourning my late wife. How strange. I thought the only woman who would ever throw me head-first into grief would be Anya.
Now, I’m here again, my heart squeezing uncomfortably. I’m sitting across from pictures that should mean more to me than they do.