“It’s just...it’s like the last whole piece of him I had left, and now it’s gone, and—”

“It’s not gone, and it will be fixed. Quinn’ll see to that.” She paused and then, her voice low, gentle and commiserating, she said, “I know that’s when you felt closest to him, driving that car.”

“I had to drive it. Seeing it just sitting, never moving, just pounded home that he’s gone.” Amanda drew in a deep breath as she stroked Cutter again. Then she slowly shook her head. “Five years. I keep thinking it will get better. That I’ll get over it.”

Hayley immediately got up and came to sit beside her, putting an arm around her. “Oh, honey, I hate to tell you but you’ll never get over it. This kind of grief never goes away, it just changes. It’s something you learn to live with, not something that heals up like it never happened.”

“But...it’s been five years...”

“And in another five years, there will be times it will hit just as hard. It won’t happen as often, and you’ll recover more quickly, but... I won’t lie to you, Amanda. It will never go away. At least, it hasn’t for me, for either of my parents. And it’s been better than five times as long for Quinn, and there are still times when he just has to go be alone with his memories, even as young as he was when they died.”

Amanda cringed inside at the promise of unending pain, remembering that this was a woman who understood, who had lost her own father in much the same way as she had lost hers. And then, more recently, her mother. She’d almost forgotten, in the midst of her self-centered misery, that she was far from alone.

And then, quietly, Hayley added, “And it shouldn’t, should it? Isn’t it a sign of how great that love was, that you carry a bit of it forever? The pain is just the proof.”

She’d never thought of it quite like that. And the ache eased a tiny bit more. Just enough that she thought she could breathe again.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That...hit home.”

“Your mother died when you were young, didn’t she?”

Amanda nodded. “I was only five. I barely remember her.”

“So you and your father were even closer because of that, I’d guess. My mother and I were, after my father was killed.”

“Yes. I—”

Cutter’s head came up sharply. He let out a low rumble that somehow wasn’t threatening but...warm.

“Quinn’s here,” Hayley said.

“Is that his welcome home sound?” Amanda asked, managing a smile for the first time since they’d arrived.