My thoughts go back and forth mercilessly as I slowly tidy the place. Though my mobility has improved over the last week, the soreness still keeps me at a tiresome pace. Whenever I push my limits, my body revolts with sharp pains and lingering aches. It’s a test of patience, surely. But I keep thinking of Grady’s advice. It takes as long as it takes.

Regardless, my excitement to see Ashe builds, battling back my nerves. I’ve missed him. The fun of him. The way he always makes me laugh. How he rolls his eyes over his mom’s antics. We’ll laugh over Cora’s words—one day.

Seeing him will put everything back in its proper place.

Only it’s not him who shows up. It’s Cora, just like that morning at the hospital. She pushes inside my place, mentioning something about the dreadful weather. I don’t bother with pleasantries.

“Where’s Ashe?”

“He’s not coming, Marnie.” Her tone is soft but direct. She bypasses me and drags an upright chair from the kitchen table into the living room—her usual seat. “Best sit down. I don’t want you to hurt yourself when you’ve been doing so well.”

The anxious knot in my stomach spreads throughout my entire body. I wobble to the couch, easing Sunkist aside for space. I sit as uprightly as possible, bracing myself for what I know is coming—what I should’ve seen coming. It doesn’t matter what I want with Ashe. It’s no wonder he left. He knew he wasn’t coming home to me.

Voices circle through my mind, crystallizing my fears.

Mom: Men can’t be trusted. They never do what they say they’ll do.

Cora: You will feel this loss every day for the rest of your life.

I swallow hard, waiting.

“Ashe has had a change of heart.” Her face fixes on fake sympathy—a look I’ve seen a thousand times but never before directed at me. “He no longer wants to get married.”

It sounds so innocent and normal like one might change clothes or cars.

“Ashe said that?”

She leans forward. “I know that’s difficult to hear, but you must’ve felt it, too. It’d be such a sacrifice for him now.”

Marrying me would be a sacrifice.

“He was having second thoughts before the accident,” she tacks on as if that makes it better. “He loves his independence. He’s about to take on the new store. He loves you despite this, but you want different things now.”

“We want to be together,” I manage, nearly tripping over her use of the word despite. “That shouldn’t have changed just because… one thing did.”

She scoffs slightly. “That’s not how the world works, and you know it.”