Simon flashed an impish grin before he slid off the bed and vanished into the closet. Nina heard some rummaging, and moments later he emerged, holding a bag she remembered as vividly as the first time she’d seen it. There was so much to love about it—the size, the expert stitching, the softness of the gorgeous pearled white leather. Simon gifted Nina the bag down on one knee, arms extended, as though he were reenacting the day in July when he had presented her with his mother’s diamond ring, in the gazebo at the park overlooking the lake.
His proposal had come as a surprise, but given that they’d been about to move in together, Nina’s first impulse had been to say yes. While her heart wanted to put the ring on her finger, her brain was telling her not yet. Simon had been disappointed, naturally, but not crushed, since they were still going to be living together. Selfishly, Nina wanted what Simon could offer—a chance to stay in Seabury, where her life was, where she’d put down roots. Moving in with her parents would have felt like giving up too much of her life, and it would have been especially hard on Connor, who was nearing graduation. But even so, she didn’t feel obligated to rush into a decision.
She had explained her reluctance as too much change too fast, but in the back of her mind another thought lurked, one she didn’t share.
Glen.
She still had unresolved feelings, and questions for which she didn’t have answers. Whatever caused her hesitation, it wasn’t Simon holding her back; it was herself. To his credit, Simon wasn’t pressuring her, not one bit, which was one reason why every day Nina was closer to saying yes.
She took the bag, held it, felt it before opening it. A flash of something white caught her eye, and she reached inside to find a note from Simon, penned in his neat teacher’s handwriting. She read it aloud:
Dearest Nina,
You’ve got this. I know you’re nervous and scared about the new job, but I’ve never had more faith in anybody in all my life. You are magnificent in every way. You’re kind, compassionate, brilliant, and bold, and I love you more than words can say. I can’t wait for the day when I can call you my wife.
With all my love and admiration,
Simon
Nina leaned forward to kiss Simon.
“You shouldn’t have done this. That bag is very expensive.”
“You bought me a leather work bag for my birthday,” Simon reminded her. “Now we’re even. And thanks to that bag, I never have to look for my wallet and keys.”
“You are the best,” she said, kissing him again. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I keep asking myself the same thing,” Simon said wryly.
He took the bag from her hands to show her the tag with her monogrammed initials—N.G., for Nina Garrity. Before Simon, when the wounds were freshest, she wondered if she should take her kids away, start over like Glen might have done—find someplace new, somewhere not tainted with her husband’s lies. She’d thought of changing her name back to Sansone, but her children were Garrity, and they’d want to remain Garrity, meaning a part of Glen would follow them anywhere they went. She’d kept the name, and now it was etched on her bag.
“It’s easy enough to change the monogram,” Simon said, a glint entering his eyes as though he were reading her thoughts. “If we get married, and you know I hope we do, if you want to become Nina Fitch, I’d be honored.”
For Nina it would be her second marriage, but it would be Simon’s third. His first wife, a woman named Allison, his college sweetheart, left him and moved away on their fourth anniversary. The breakup shattered Simon, but Nina understood young love. It could be impetuous and prone to sudden changes of heart, especially when there weren’t children involved to complicate a divorce. Even so, betrayal at any stage can have lasting consequences. She knew all too well why Simon was afraid to open himself up to more hurt, why he had stayed single for years after.
His second wife, Emma, whom he’d met through mutual friends, eventually broke through his defenses. Her suicide years later had gutted him in a profoundly different way than the loss of Allison. In some respects, Simon’s misfortune in love made it easier for Nina to trust him, and to believe he’d never betray her as Glen had done. His