Page 89 of When Love Is Lost and Found

"Welcome back," he says, walking away.

"Thank you. It's nice to be back."

***

When I called Loren and told her I wasn't returning to Garrison, she didn't sugarcoat her feelings on the subject.

"After what you went through with your father, you, of all people, should've shown Jon some compassion."

She was right. If I could do it all over again, I would. I was so close to finding love with Jon, but my immaturity and self-righteousness cost me everything.

I kept telling myself I was right and he was wrong. I was all too familiar with living without my loved ones, first with Dad and then with Jimmy, so I talked myself into a life without Jon.

Now, he's less than five minutes away, but the distance between us feels more like a bottomless pit.

I slip under the covers, feeling cold despite the warm evening. I know It has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with Jon's frigid welcome.

I miss Loren so much. I begin to cry, remembering the last few months of her life. When her illness made it difficult for her to get around, I started spending more and more time with her. We would watch movies and play cards, or she'd try to teach me how to crochet. Somehow, our conversations always veered toward Jon and how things ended between us.

"You have to find your way back to him, Honey."

"Too much time has passed," I said, "He's moved on with Susan."

"He fell into that relationship the first time," Loren said, "and he fell into it again."

"How do you fall into a relationship?"

"Jon's dad and Susan's dad are business partners. It's a relationship of convenience."

"That sounds terrible. I can't imagine Jon wanting something just because it's convenient."

"I'm sure he doesn't think of it that way, but he hasn't asked her to marry him either, so deep down inside, he knows."

The thought of Jon marrying someone else, no, I can't imagine it.

***

"When we get back home, I'm taking you to Cold Spring's Farmers’ Market, and I'm going to hold your hand the entire time,” Jon’s words still echo in my ears as I pick out some tomatoes, cheeses, bread, olive oil, and honey from local vendors at the farmers’ market. I'm paying for a dozen eggs when I hear my name called out.

"Sharon!"

I turn around to see a friendly face and a warm smile.

"Patrick!" I exclaim as he walks towards me, pushing a stroller.

"Hi. Oh my goodness, is this your daughter?"

"Yeah, yeah. This is Annie."

Annie is a chubby one-year-old with blond curls and blue eyes. She smiles and coos while swinging her stuffed teddy bear up and down, threatening to fling it to the ground at any moment.

"She looks just like you," I say.

"That's what people say," his smile is that of a proud and happy father.

"She's adorable."

"Thank you," he says. "Here, I want you to meet my wife."

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