Page 44 of Beauty and the Beard

But first, I owe him some background.

“Oh, the park looks so pretty at night.” Sasha beams at me. “This is where I met Violet and her friends.”

“Which end of the park did you come in on?”

He motions to the other side, which makes sense since it’s closer to where Pete would pick up and drop him off.

“I’d like to tell you more about Connor, if you don’t mind.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’d love to know more about him. Whatever you want to share.”

Walking down the path to the entrance of the park, I tell him how Connor grew up here and even though he had a dream of running a lodge on his family’s property, he had a degree as an arborist.

“Wait, so Connor had an issue with you cutting trees on your property? Is that what really got him to stop at your sugar bush?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Not at all. But the funny thing is, if you want to get technical, he’s the one who was a real lumberjack. He had a degree specializing in trees. It doesn’t get more lumberjack than that.”

“That’s so funny.” Sasha laughs softly and, as we approach the park sign I’ve avoided since it went up, I’m shocked I’m still smiling.

“His passion was urban planning, and he had two summer placements with the town while he was in university. He convinced them to turn this very space into a park. Just to preserve some of the woods in town and not let it get gobbled up by buildings.”

Sasha nods along in agreement.

“It’s a great place. The first day I came to town, I saw the park from the bridge. I stopped to watch the ducks because it reminded me of my mom. I came back here after…” he clears his throat. “After you spent the night to talk it over with Roman. I needed to clear my head, and the ducks came and… well, I was mostly at ease here.”

When we get to the sign, my eyes burn, but my smile is still in place.

Connor Sweet Memorial Park

We dedicatethis park to Connor Sweet.

A Maple resident who wanted everyone to slow down and enjoy life to the fullest.

Gone too soon, but never forgotten.

“He was alive when the park was built. It just didn’t have a name. It was Violet’s dad who brought the motion to the town council. They agreed, and he and I watched the day they erected the sign. On that day, I wasn’t able to feel anything about the dedication. Grief was all I knew for so long. A few years ago, I came here by myself one night and it was better.”

A single tear runs down my face, and I startle when Sasha reaches up to wipe it away.

“And now?” he murmurs.

“Now I’m so damn proud I was his husband. He was one of those people that everyone loved and lit up a room. He made youhappy. He mademehappy. I spent too much time being angry that he was taken from me and not enough time appreciating how fortunate I was to have had him in my life for as long as I did. I’m so proud of this place he created. He’ll be a part of this town forever, just like he always wanted.”

Sasha is silent, and I sneak a glance at him. He’s such a beautiful person, inside and out. I don’t want him to feel like I’m comparing him to Connor, but I had to tell him and show him this. I owed it to him, because if Sasha wants to make something happen with us, Connor would always exist.

“My mom was a flighty, artist-type.” His voice is soft as he leans into my side. “We moved from town to town a lot. She homeschooled me for most of my life. Since she was so free spirited, she often took me to a park where she painted and watched over me doing my homework.” He smiles up at me, but his eyes are sad. “It had ducks. Feeding the ducks with my mom is something I miss. I came here when I saw them. It made me happy to watch the ducks.” He huffs a small laugh. “Maybe it was fate. Two beautiful souls giving us both a place to find peace.”

Running my fingers over the sign with a whispered good night, I tug him over to the bench nearby to watch the small creek running through town. It’s nothing spectacular, but it brings the ducks he loves and kids like to catch frogs and watch for turtles here. He leans his head on my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around him. The moon reflects on the water and occasionally we hear the hum of a car’s motor or the muted voices of pedestrians on their way home, but it might as well just be the two of us out here.

Sasha’s hand rests on my knee and the ache to have him stay with me here, to not leave when his time is up, is so strong I have to bite my lip.

“Have you wondered if karma sometimes does bad things to help good people?” His voice is so small I have to strain to hear.

“What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t have come here if I hadn’t broken my arm last year, finally got the courage to speak out against someone I trusted who was taking advantage of me, and I got fired. If any of that had not happened, I’d still be flirting with anyone that smiled at me and partying all the time. I’d still be waking up with people whose name I don’t know and forgetting my mother left me in the care of someone who abused their privilege.” He shifts on the bench and peers up into my eyes.

“If Connor hadn’t died, you’d not have visited me with a bottle of wine or kissed me. Yet here we are, two broken people maybe figuring things out together. In another time, our paths would never have crossed.”

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