Page 88 of When Love Is Lost and Found

"Jon bought another investment property."

"That's great, Loren," I'd say. "He's following in his father's footsteps."

"Jon is dating Susan again." That was a year ago, and that piece of information hurt.

"Is he happy?" I asked, feeling like I could cry.

"I think so," Loren said, not sounding sure. "She works in his father's firm."

I never stopped her from talking about him. Even if it hurt, I welcomed it. I looked forward to it. It was the only way I could stay connected to him.

I drive past the Linder property and see all the lights are on. It looks exactly the same, so I'm instantly filled with nostalgia. According to my calculations, the Linders have already moved to Japan, which means Jon is staying at the house.

I can't help but wonder if Susan is staying with him.

"Stop it!" I admonish myself.

Loren's house is just as welcoming now as it was the first time I stepped foot in it. Olivia comes by once a week to dust everything, and Robert takes care of the garden.

I walk around the living areas in the house, taking inventory of the framed photos on the walls and fireplace mantle—memories captured for eternity. I'll have to ask Gary if he wants me to ship some of these to him. There's a picture of Loren, Noah, and me covered in dirt after we all spent the morning planting some flowers in her garden. Jon brought out his camera and took this picture. I pick it up to study it. Noah was little. Loren was healthy. I was happy.

After I put my things away, I shower and change into a tank top and pajama bottoms. I debate whether to eat something or go to bed. Fatigue wins the battle, so I turn in early. A few minutes after I lie down, a knock on the back door startles me.

It's only eight o'clock. Maybe it's Robert or—.

"Jon." God, I want to hug him and let him know how much I've missed him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, completely surprised but without a hint of warmth.

"It's a long story," I say.

"I saw the lights on and the car I didn't recognize," pointing a thumb at my silver Corolla.

"So you still keep an eye on the house."

"Sharon, what are you doing here?" he asks again, and this time, he doesn't hide his annoyance.

"I live here," I say, cutting to the chase.

"What?"

"Loren left me her house, but before I can sell it, I have to live here for two years."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I'm not kidding." I search his face for a sign that he's happy to see me, but I find nothing. The man I used to be able to read like a book, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve, has hardened his heart against me. I feel it, and I have no one to blame but myself.

"My family left a few days ago. They'll be gone for a year, so I'm watching the house for them."

"I guess that makes us neighbors."

I can see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down when he considers my words and what they mean.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask.

"Um, no, thank you. I have to get back to the house."

"Okay," I say, feeling disappointed.

---