Sam stood near the bottom of the steps, watching from a distance, his hands shoved into the pockets of a too-large tan suit.
Her heart softened. He didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to bring Max all this way, on a crowded bus, no less. Yet, he did. And she couldn’t be more grateful.
“I’ll be right back,” she told the pastor and all the waiting wedding guests.
She met Logan’s gaze, and he nodded in understanding, encouraging her to go. After handing her bouquet to Piper in the back row, she crossed the sand toward Sam.
“Sorry we’re late,” he said the moment she’d reached him, the depth of contrition in his eyes communicating remorse for so much more than his tardiness.
“I’m just happy you’re here,” she said sincerely. “Thank you for bringing Max back.”
“I should have done it sooner,” Sam admitted, digging his toe in the sand.
She sensed he had more to say, so she waited for him to continue.
Finally, Sam spoke, staring at the sand. “Max asked me to pray with him before bed every night, just like you used to. And do you know what he prayed for, every time, without fail?” He lifted his gaze, his expression pained. “He prayed that we could all be together.”
Abby’s chest squeezed. Until recently, she’d beseeched the Lord with the same request. But Max, with his childlike faith, never gave up hope. Not on his father’s return. And now, not on them.
“The other night, I finally faced the ugly reality,” Sam confessed. “The only thing standing in the way of Max’s prayer was me. My fears. My insecurities.” His deep brown eyes glinted with raw humility. “It’s hard to admit this as a grown man, but the truth is, I felt threatened by you and Logan. I was scared to start over as a father. And when I looked at you two—at how much you loved Max, and how much he loved you—I was afraid I couldn’t compete.”
A surge of empathy blazed through her, burning the back of her throat. How many times had she felt the same way, desperate to be all Max needed, knowing she could never fill his father’s void? She wished she’d known Sam’s concerns sooner, so she could’ve quickly dispelled them. “Max loves you more than anything in the world. He never stopped believing you’d come back for him.” Her voice trembled, but she pushed through, adding with earnest conviction, “We never replaced you in his heart. He simply made room for us, too.”
“I know that now.” He smiled, soft and sincere. “That’s why I’ve decided to move back to Blessings Bay.”
She inhaled a sharp, shuddering breath, certain she’d misheard. “Y-you’re coming back? To stay in the bungalow?”
“Actually, I called Iris. She’s agreed to rent me her cottage again. I still need to find work, but I trust God’ll sort that out, in His timing.”
Without thinking, Abby threw her arms around his thin shoulders. “Thank you, thank you! This is the most wonderful news.” She felt as if her heart might burst with happiness.
Sam stood stiffly for a moment, then relaxed, returning her hug.
When Abby finally stepped back, he flushed, smiling shyly. “I’m not very good with people, Mrs. Preston, er, Mathews,” he corrected, as if he just realized her last name was about to change. “But I’d like to get better.”
“How about calling me Abby, for starters?” She grinned.
“I think I can handle that. Abby,” he said a bit awkwardly.
“Come with me.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the stalled ceremony.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. You’re family now.” She situated Sam beside Piper before leaning over to retrieve her bouquet.
As she straightened, she noticed Sam’s gaze land on the sea glass dangling around her neck. His eyes sparked with recognition, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
They shared a knowing smile before she resumed her position at the end of the aisle.
By now, the sun had dipped below the horizon line, leaving the sky a dusky blue with streaks of pinks and purple. Candlelight flickered in the tall glass votives lining her pathway as she floated toward the altar where Logan and Max stood side by side, just as she’d hoped and prayed they would.
Above the music and rhythmic rumble of ocean waves, she heard the faint tinkling of the bells around her ankles—the melody of her own making—reminding her that through it all, joy and love could abound.
As long as she made room in her heart.
Epilogue
Flushed and breathless,Mia deserted the dance floor as the lively rendition of “Thriller” transitioned to the slower tempo of “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King.
