“So are you coming back to work soon?” He opened the bottle and poured two glasses. “I’m not sure if Chloe has mentioned it or not, but she’s interviewing two people this week for tasting room help.”

“I definitely want to come back,” I told him, stirring the mushroom glaze. “I’ve missed it. I’ll talk to Chloe tomorrow.”

I gave Henry a tour of the new house, and the kids proudly showed off their rooms. While they dragged him outside in the dark to see the yard, the barn, and the other dilapidated outbuildings I’d have to deal with in the spring, I sliced the tenderloin and made sure the mashed potatoes were still warm.

They trooped inside again, and Henry asked if I was planning a vegetable garden. “You’ve got a great spot in the yard that would get plenty of sun,” he said, removing his jacket.

“Can we, Mom?” Whitney asked.

“Sure,” I said. “I used to love working in the garden with my mom when I was young. But I don’t know much about putting one in.”

“I can help,” Henry said.

I imagined it all—a summer day full of sunshine, a garden full of vegetables, a yard full of kids and animals, boisterous shouts and good-natured teasing, a home full of laughter and life . . . Henry and I, together.

I saw it so clearly, there was no doubt in my mind it would happen.

25. Henry

Twenty-Five

Henry

One week after Valentine’s Day, I went to pick Sylvia up for our first official date night. It was snowing pretty hard and the roads were bad, so I was running a little late, but she’d said that was okay because it had taken her a little longer than planned to get back from dropping the kids off at her parents’ for the night.

Which I was pretty excited about.

It would be the first time we’d been alone since New Year’s Eve, and every time I thought about it, I immediately got hard.

But I willed myself to have patience. This date was important to me—we’d always remember it. I figured we’d have dinner in town, maybe catch a movie or just stroll up and down Main Street. It wouldn’t even matter what we did—I just wanted to be the one that got to take her somewhere, open the door for her, sit in a cozy booth and hold her hand across the table.

Then I’d bring her home and fuck her senseless.

But when she answered my knock, I suddenly wanted to reverse the order of my plans.

“Hi,” she said, giving me a mischievous, cherry-lipped grin.

My jaw dropped.