“Isn’t that what we learned last time? Through no fault of ours—and, no, don’t look at me that way, Mackenzie, because thirty seconds one way or the other, and that accident would never have happened. But in that split second, everything changed, and I don’t just mean Lily’s death or the divorce. I mean the course of our lives.” The toughness eased. “But our new ones are better. They’re more honest. More meaningful. Even if we still had Lily, I would choose life here, but if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I would never have known it.” He stared at me. Gradually, his eyes moved to my bangs. Pushing them aside, he traced my scar with his thumb.
“I look awful,” I said. No makeup. Pale skin. Naked eyes.
“You look beautiful.” He leaned forward and kissed the scar. Then, returning to a place where he could see my whole face, he gestured toward the computer and asked a vulnerable, “Don’t you want this?”
“More than anything in the world,” I said, because it was seriously true. “But you’re showing me something I may never be able to have. Don’t you see? I could go to prison. If you’re drawn into the mess, your group could vote you out. You were taking a chance buying a home here in the first place, but if you leave town,” I gestured at the plans, “what’s the point?”
“I’m not leaving town. I’m staying here, and, worst-case scenario, if Shanahan gets you locked up, all it means is that you’ll miss the mess of construction and come back to something beautiful and new.”
“An ex-con,” I said, expressing the darkest of my fears. “A woman who has shared meals with felons and showers with murderers, one who has lost all dignity. And if you don’t want me then?” I asked.
He gave a disbelieving huff. “Christ, Maggie, haven’t we gotten past that?”
I paused. Actually, we had. Frowning, I looked away. The instant I’d asked the question, I had known it was wrong. But that was a change. When? Why?
In a flash of understanding, I heard my mother’s voice. He loves you, too, she had said, and it wasn’t that I needed her approval of Edward. But I trusted her judgement. That was why our estrangement had hurt me so much. Along with everything to do with mothering, it reinforced the idea, never spoken but implied, that my choice of life partner had been poor. She had never before shown any fondness for Edward, certainly had never praised him. That she did now registered.
But something else registered. He loves you, too, she had said, the too being key. She loved me. Despite the accident, the loss of Lily and my father and my name, she did love me. It had been right there in the comfort she gave back at the Inn. She said she wasn’t good at that kind of thing, but she was. I had simply been too close to it to see it at the time.
That different feeling inside me? It had to do with healing. Something was intact where a ragged tear had been.
Weaving a hand into my hair, Edward angled my face so that he could look me in the eye. “You won’t be going to prison, baby. There would be a riot in that courtroom if the judge buys into Shanahan’s case. You have a ton of friends, not the least being Jillian Russ, who drew up these plans extra fast because she thinks you’re the best. So do half the people in this town.”
“Only half?” I asked, trying to make a joke, to lighten things up, to do anything that might explain why I was believing what he said.
“The other half don’t know you. Once they do, they’ll adore you, too.”
“Well, there’s another point,” I said. “Once Grace’s past hits the news and Shanahan does his thing, my secret’s out. What’ll the good people of Devon think of me then?”
“They’ll respect you even more,” he said without missing a beat. “Seriously, Maggie. How can you not see that? They’ll be just as amazed as me that you were able to pick yourself up after a tragedy like that and rebuild a life. And you have. People here respect the hell out of what you’ve done since coming here. They told me this at Town Meeting when they saw us together. I was with your mother when Joe Hellinger told her what you do for his patients. Joyce thinks you’re one of