I closed my eyes a moment to compose myself. “Gran, do you blame me? I was trying to make a life with a man who had never been around anything more spiritual than watching his favorite sports team win a game. What was I supposed to do when he stuck me in the psych ward?

“Every doctor he talked to said I was delusional, and that the best thing for me was to never come back to Savannah. That’s why I never came home. And yes, I let him convince me that everything I’d seen, everything you’d taught me growing up was just a fantasy. I wish I hadn’t. But I . . . I loved him.” I shrugged and spilled a truth I didn’t like, but this was Gran, and so I could tell her now, even if I hadn’t been able to tell her when she was still alive. “And I thought no one else would ever love me.”

Gran’s eyes widened. “What?”

I made a sweeping motion with one hand up and down my body. “I’m not tiny enough. I’m not quite pretty enough. I had to rely on my smarts and charm to get anywhere. You don’t understand what it’s like because you just never gave a flying f—”

Her eyes narrowed, stopping me. “Language.”

“Fridge. I was going to say fridge,” I muttered. “What any man or woman thought of you. You were always confident.” I blew out a slow breath, trying to find the right words. “I thought he was more important than anything else. I put him first.”

A wooden floorboard behind us creaked and I turned to see Eric standing there. “But he never put you first.” His voice was quiet and soft.

I shook my head. “No, he didn’t. He told me I embarrassed him, and I believed him. He told me I was a joke. And I believed him. He told me . . .” I swallowed hard. “He told me I was a miserable bitch.” Oh, that last one was tough. I made myself keep talking. “I believed him because it was easier to change than to admit that the man I picked as my partner was a complete and utter selfish asshole.” I sighed.

Gran’s eyes were sad. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You mean when you were dying? When the cancer was eating you from the inside out?” I spread my hands wide. “Seriously?”

She frowned and touched her head. “When I was dying, I was so sick. But you should have told me then.”

Eric cleared his throat. “We often keep our secrets closer to protect those we love, but then we end up hurting them. It’s a common issue.”

I half-turned toward him. “Listen here, Mr. Therapist—”

He smiled. “Psychologist, actually.”

Well, that was a shock. “Wait. You’re a doctor, a psychologist?”