Page 40 of One More Chance

And now I need her to be my light again.

“You can’t marry him, Simone. You deserve true love and not a marriage of convenience. Any man would be lucky to have you. Don’t settle for anything less.”

I snort at the lucky part. My ex didn’t share Avery’s sentiments. Why should I believe it won’t be the same for the next man I fall in love with? “I’m not settling for less. What Lucas and his brothers want to do is something my brother would have loved. I’m doing it for his memory. This is important to me, A.”

The new silence that stretches through the phone line feels like a gaping hole in my heart.

“Are you positive you’ve thought this through?” she asks.

No. “Yes.”

“Are you still in love with Lucas?”

“No. I haven’t been in love with him in a long, long time. And he’s not in love with me. Never has been. So this arrangement will be perfect. No one will get hurt, and people will only benefit from it.” Hopefully. Assuming that Tuuli and Robert sell their land to Lucas and his brothers.

Avery releases a long breath that, on the phone, sounds like a heavy wind traveling through a tunnel. “I don’t like that you’re settling for less than you deserve, but I will definitely be there for you, Si. So yes, I would love to be your maid of honor.”

16

Simone

Four days after Lucas officially proposed to me, I rummage through my closet. Grams never bothered to clear it out after I moved away to college and then to Portland.

She kept everything in case I wanted it at some point in the future.

I remove the wicker box from the top shelf and brush the dust from the lid with my hand. Do I open the box? Or shove it back in the closet and pretend it never existed?

Do I read the letters Lucas sent me while he was deployed? Or throw them into the firepit?

The last time I read them was the weekend of Aiden’s funeral. The weekend Lucas never made it to Maple Ridge.

My breath releases in a slow exhalation, and I return the box to the shelf. I should toss the letters, but even after all these years, I’m not ready to go there yet.

I shift my attention to the large plastic container next to the wicker box. A thick layer of dust also covers its lid.

I tug an old top off a hanger, wipe the lid clean, and carry the box over to my bed. I sit down, snap open the lid, and peer inside.

Everything looks the same as it did when I left for college. I remove the pendant I wore the last time I made love to Lucas. Time has tarnished the thin metal disc, but the words stamped in it are still visible: dreams come true

A small dandelion, turned to fluff, is stamped to the left of the words, with a few seeds floating above them. I had looped a fine silver chain through the hoop and added a garnet Swarovski crystal. My birthstone.

I take the pendant to the bathroom, search through the drawer that contains my stuff, and remove the container of silver cleaner. It doesn’t take long before the pendant looks new again, the tarnish dissolved.

I unfasten the clasp, place the chain around my neck, and let the cool disc rest against my skin, visible above the V-neck of my T-shirt.

I examine the pendant’s reflection in the mirror. The last time I hammered a stamp into metal was fourteen years ago. Fourteen years since I felt that creative power hum through my fingertips.

I return to my room and take inventory of my supplies. Satisfied I have what I need, I carry the box outside. Grams is having a nap, and I don’t want to wake her with my banging.

The midday sun shines approvingly on me as I set everything up on the table in the backyard. And for the next fifteen or so minutes, I work away on my project. It feels freeing to pound the stamps, create designs in the metal, form words with the letters.

By the time I’m finished, the new disc resembles the pendant I’m wearing, only this time the message reads “you came true.”

I study the disc, worrying my lower lip. Is this good enough for my subscription boxes? I would love to include some items that I’ve made, but what if they aren’t good enough?

“What are you up to?” Lucas asks behind me, and I let out a startled gasp.

I glance over my shoulder, shaking my head at being so easily spooked. “God, no wonder you were such a good Marine. You probably scared the shit out of the enemy with all your sneaking around.”

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