We watch the fireworks from our dock, curled under a blanket to keep the evening chill off, and see most of the show just over the tree line. I text Wade, letting him know I left early and congratulating him on the store’s success. He answers:

It’s so perfect that my eyes fill with tears.

I’m okay with tears these days. It’s like Grady once said. Frowns, fears, and tears are human necessities. Someone to share them all with is another. Grady is and always will be that person for me. He holds my hand across the armrests of our chairs, butted next to each other, twiddling with my fingers and warming me while fireworks reflect in his eyes. It’s a strange, beautiful moment, knowing nothing is missing.

“Keep staring at me like that, and we won’t finish the show,” he says, keeping his eyes on the fireworks overhead.

I giggle. “Fireworks, eh. Who needs them?”

Then, he pulls me into his arms for our own fireworks.

Epilogue

Epilogue

Valentine’s Day, Next Year.

GRADY

It’s barely 5 a.m., still dark, and an early-morning chill beckons me back to sleep. I roll to my side with a bothered sigh—Marina’s not here. As scheduled, my alarm sounds as I rise from our bed and flip on the bedside lamp. I intended to get up before her. But a late emergency call kept me out, and she’s been relentlessly busy with work lately.

We’ve shared our home for nine months. We’ve brilliantly navigated the major holidays, her mom’s first (and so far only) semi-episode, Tilly’s flu (which she generously shared with the rest of the family), a break-in at the G&G (Uncle Jim’s still investigating), Roy’s eccentric new girlfriend (yes, he has a girlfriend), and Sunkist’s impacted hairball. Marina’s taken it all in stride with her signature bounce and optimism. Hell, even with the flu and a raging fever, I could barely keep her in bed—she wanted to be up, working on her next game or filling her next store revitalization plan notebook. Still, even being sick and stuck at home together was fun.

But fun has faded behind forced smiles lately. I suspect I know why, but she’s not saying. She denies there’s anything wrong at all.