I watched my friends comforting each other, their eyes shining with tears, their smiles tentative in the winter sun. I knew how much they’d miss me—that they’d all carry that sorrow for a long time, deep in their hearts. But they would be all right. They would live, and thrive, and remember me with love, and eventually, they would let go of me, the way the living always had to let go of the dead.

Then I saw something that wrenched my heart in my chest.

Thayer, hands in his pockets, lingered off to the side. Alone. And watching Emma.

36 - Yours Forever

36

YOURS FOREVER

Thayer stood slightly apart from the crowd, leaning against the low white wall that surrounded the church’s property. He’d come in a perfectly tailored Burberry sport coat and slacks, no tie. His dark hair fell down over one eye, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. When he saw Emma approach, he raised his hand a little.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied. Silence drifted down between them. She watched Garrett join Celeste and Louisa, wiping tears from his eyes. Grandma Mercer had stepped down from the church, Mr. Mercer at her arm. Laurel walked swiftly to her side and took her other arm, murmuring in her ear.

A few feet from Emma and Thayer, a pair of mourning doves perched together in a cactus. They cooed softly at each other, back and forth, like they were deep in conversation.

“How is it the thorns don’t hurt them?” Thayer asked abruptly.

Emma cocked her head questioningly. He nodded at the birds.

“I guess because they’re so light,” Emma said. She swallowed, trying to push down the lump in her throat. “Thayer, I am so, so sorry.”

Slowly he drew his gaze toward her. His hazel eyes were pained but clear. “I’m not mad at you, Emma.” He gazed down into her face for a long moment, then looked quickly away. “It’s just . . . You look just like her. Even knowing everything, there’s a part of me that wants to kiss you.”

“But it’d be all wrong,” Emma said. She smiled sadly. “I’m not Sutton. I wasn’t even a very good stand-in.”

He laughed softly, one cheek’s perfect dimple revealing itself. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re not her. But you’re pretty amazing.”

He drew his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of computer paper. As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was. A tendril of electricity connected me to that letter.