“Of course I miss it. I miss him. The two can’t be separated for me.” That was the simple truth of it. I had lost my husband, Adam, to an undiagnosed congenital heart defect almost two years ago. It was a devastating loss. In truth, it had nearly killed me, but I had come a long way since then. I gave my aunt what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “But I can miss those things without feeling like my life is missing something. I am at peace with where I am now. I’ve had the greatest love anyone could ask for. And even though that part of my life is over, I’m grateful to have had it.” I meant the words deeply. It wasn’t something I had ever articulated out loud, but I was glad I finally had so that my aunts could understand.

“Now you’re just being stubborn,” Izzy said with a pout.

I blinked a few times. Normally I would have expected that kind of comment from Nora. “I’m sorry?”

“Is it the family history that’s holding you back?” Izzy asked, scooting forward on her seat. “Because you know all that curse nonsense is just that. Nonsense.”

I didn’t answer. The Warrens did have a history of being unlucky in love. Some might call it a curse, and at times, it had certainly felt that way to me. But no, that was not what was holding me back. I wasn’t being held back.

“You are a young woman, Brynn,” Izzy went on, undeterred by my silence. She took a quick sip of tea then smiled. I think she surprised herself with how good it was. She recovered quickly though. “You have a long life ahead of you. How can you be so certain that you will never experience love again?”

“I just know.” I could have explained further—told them that there was no way another man could ever fill my heart the way Adam had—but a slight prickle had come to my eyes, and I did not want to encourage that prickle to grow into something more. That was something I had come to realize about grief. It never truly goes away. It does lose its all-encompassing grip, but it can come back at any time, as strong as ever. It wasn’t necessarily a terrible thing though. It was evidence of having loved deeply. I had to be grateful for that. “Besides, how could I miss love when I have so much of it? I love you. I love Nora. I love Gideon.” Just then an enormous cat jumped up onto my lap. “And I definitely love you,” I said rubbing the feline’s soft ears. “In fact, right now, I think I love you most of all.” Faustus, the B&B’s resident Maine coon cat, closed his eyes in pleasure as I ran my thumb over the bridge of his nose. He was a lovely large beast with all-black fur, except for the dignified frosting of gray around his face.