Grace gave him a gentle smile. “My Graham had her heart, and she had his, but he’s gone.” She looked down and took a breath. “A young woman’s heart should not be buried with him. That would just be another tragedy.”

The easy way Grace relieved Kincaid of the duty of holding a torch for Graham sent a rush of warmth through him at this woman’s generosity of spirit, but a wave of resignation quickly followed. He didn’t disagree with her, but it didn’t mean he could change how Kincaid felt. “We don’t get to make that decision for her. You love who you love.”

“Of course,” she agreed, clasping her hands on top of the counter. “But sometimes safety feels like love. They’re not the same thing.”

The words stung. “You think she sees me as safe?”

Grace shook her head, an exasperated look on her face. “No, dear. Loving a man who is never coming back is safe. I think you’re the dangerous one. Kincaid’s put up some tall gates around her castle. They have gotten her through a lot, but I think you could sneak past the guards. A threat with the face of a friend.”

Ash stared at her, stunned. “You think I’m using her?”

Grace’s kind eyes met his, lines appearing at the corners, reminding him that despite her red hair being the same color and in the same style she’d always worn it, so much time and heartbreak had passed since they’d first met. “Not purposely. Ash, you’re a brilliant man with a beautiful heart. Any woman would be lucky to have you love her. But you are also a restless soul. You always felt choked by small-town life. Your dreams are different from hers. Kincaid wants what she never had. She wants roots. She doesn’t want to go out in the world and live that adventurous life like you do. She wants to be amazing right here.” She sighed. “Why else would she spend all her hard-earned savings on that money trap of a farmhouse? She’s planting her own tree, risks be damned.”

Ash looked down, the truth landing hard. “Right.”

“You both want to be the stars of your own story and deserve to be. Unfortunately, you’re in completely different movies.”

Ash blew out a breath and ran a hand over the back of his head. “I don’t know what movie I’m in anymore. I’m way off script.”

Grace considered him as if trying to puzzle him out. “What kind do you want to be in?”

“What do you mean?”

She stepped around the counter and took one of his hands and pressed it between her palms. “I mean, when you close your eyes at night and dream of the future, where are you? What do you see?” She cocked her head. “Who’s there with you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Grace, is this some kind of mom trick?”

She squeezed his hand. “All I’m saying is that life is short. Sometimes shorter than we think. It’s okay to leave the theater if a movie isn’t working for you and to see something else. Maybe an old favorite.”