Page 16 of Served

“She does now.”

He lets out a low whistle but doesn’t pry further, just claps me on the shoulder in silent solidarity, understanding some things don’t need words.

We work side by side for hours, the tribute wall taking shape. Every time the community center door opens, my head snaps up, hoping it’s Letty. She never appears.

By mid-afternoon, I’ve drafted and deleted a dozen messages to her, ranging from casual to desperately honest. None of them feels right.

“Time for a break,” Troy announces, handing me a sandwich. “Zoe insists.”

We sit outside on the community center steps, the May sunshine warm on our faces as we look at the mountains rising in the distance.

“So,” Troy says between bites, “I’m guessing I won the bet?”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “We had dinner at the Inn and worked on our project and… She’s amazing. I want to see her again…and again…and again.” I huff out a breath. “If she’ll have me, that is.”

“It’s complicated, falling for a widow.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Even more so when you served with her husband.”

I take a long drink of water, wondering how much to say. Troy waits patiently, knowing that some conversations can’t be rushed.

“I never expected this,” I blurt. “Came to town for the Memorial Day event. Thought I’d be in and out, back to my foundation work. Then she was there, fixing carne asada in that food truck, needing help with the stove, and I just...” I trail off, unable to articulate how completely Letty blindsided me.

“Yup. Life’s funny that way,” Troy nods. “Took me forty-plus years to find Zoe. Then I drifted into town around Christmas looking for work, and bam—suddenly I can’t imagine life without her and our kids.”

Our kids. It hits me in the middle of my chest. I remember Gordy telling me once that he and Letty were going to try for a baby when he got back.

“I think I love her,” I say, the words feeling strange but true on my tongue. “Not because of Jason, or some savior complex, or guilt. Because she’s... incredible. Resilient. Passionate about what she does.” I shake my head. “And god help me, she’s fucking gorgeous.”

Troy studies me. “Does she know that? That it’s her you care about, not just the connection to Gordy?”

His question hits like a thunderbolt. Did I ever make that clear?

“I need to tell her,” I say, standing abruptly. “But not yet. She asked for time.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur as I focus on preparations.

Back at the Inn, Talia intercepts me with a foil-wrapped plate of leftovers that I take up to my room. I stare at my phone as I eat. Finally, the right words crystallize, and I type quickly and hit send before I lose my nerve.

Letty, take all the time you need. What happened between us wasn’t about the past—it was about us, here in the present. I care about YOU. The woman who makes amazing tacos. Who’s a super auntie to a beautiful baby. Who’s rebuilding her life with quiet strength. Whatever you decide, just know that I’m not going anywhere.

After a moment, I add:

P.S. The wall of honor turned out beautifully. Thanks for your help.

I set the phone down and walk to the window, watching as twilight settles over the lake. Tomorrow is the ceremony. I’ll stand before this community and speak about honor, sacrifice, and living fully for those who can’t.

I’ll also see Letty again.

And whatever happens next, I’ll face it supremely grateful for every day I’ve been given that Gordy wasn’t.

Because that’s what survivors do. We live.

CHAPTER 7

LETTY

Memorial Day dawns with a sky so blue and bright it hurts my eyes. I stand in front of my closet, staring at the wrap dress I bought a few months ago because of the way it drapes over my curves. At the time, I’d been remembering how Jason liked it when I’d show off my hips and cleavage, but now all I can think about is Felix’s reaction.

I’ve been a mess since leaving his room two nights ago. His sweet text message—so understanding, so him—sits on my phone, read a dozen times but still unanswered.

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