“Thank you for listening,” Sunny said finally, rising to her feet. Her legs were stiff, but she felt lighter somehow, unburdened. “I’ll come back. Not because I feel guilty or because I need permission, but because you’re important to them, which makes you important to me too.”
She stood for a moment, gazing down at the headstone with its fresh flowers and the beaded bracelet now nestled at its base. A symbol of connection, of continuation, of promises made and kept.
The clouds had fully cleared now, the cemetery bathed in golden mid-morning sunlight. A gentle breeze stirred the wildflowers, their delicate blooms nodding as if in agreement, acceptance.
As Sunny turned to leave, she felt a peculiar sensation — not exactly a presence, but a lifting of weight, a sense of rightness settling over her. Whether it was Kate’s blessing or simply her own heart finding peace, she couldn’t say. Perhaps it didn’t matter.
What mattered was the path ahead, the family waiting for her, the love that had survived grief and separation and uncertainty. What mattered was the step she was now ready to take, moving forward without forgetting what — and who — had come before.
Sunny walked back through the cemetery with steady steps, no longer feeling like an intruder. The sunlight warmed her back, guiding her path forward while casting her shadow ahead — just one of many shadows dancing across this place of memory and continuity.
“Love never ends,” she whispered to herself as she reached the gates, the words becoming a mantra, a promise, a truth to carry forward. It didn’t end with death or absence or change. It transformed, evolved, made room for new beginnings.
As Sunny drove away from Greenlawn Cemetery, the clouds that had threatened rain all morning finally parted completely, allowing unfiltered sunlight to bathe the world in golden warmth. It felt like a blessing, like permission, like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another.
As she turned onto the familiar street, her heart quickened at the sight of the Anderson house in the distance. What had changed wasn’t the house or the family waiting inside, but Sunny herself.
“I’m coming home,” she whispered, the words both a statement and a prayer. “I’m coming home.”
Sunny
As Sunny pulled into the driveway, she noticed movement at the window — Liam’s tall figure appearing briefly before disappearing again. Had he been watching for her? Waiting? The thought both warmed and saddened her. After everything they’d been through, part of him still feared she might not come back.
The maple leaf from the cemetery lay on the passenger seat, its edges just beginning to turn amber with the first whisper of autumn. She tucked it into her pocket before gathering her courage and stepping out of the car.
The weight that had pressed against her chest for weeks — for months, really — felt lighter now, as if she’d left something behind at Kate’s grave. Not her reverence for the woman who had built this family, but perhaps her fear of never truly belonging here.
Liam opened the door before she could reach for the handle, his face a careful mask that couldn’t quite hide the relief in his eyes. He’d shaved, she noticed — the stubble that had shadowed his jaw these past days gone, leaving his face oddly vulnerable. He wore a soft gray T-shirt she’d always loved, the one that made his eyes appear more silver than blue.
“You’re back,” he said, the words simple but weighted with unspoken questions.
Sunny offered a small smile, suddenly shy despite everything they’d shared. “I toldyou I would be.”
They stood suspended in the doorway for a moment, the threshold between them symbolic in ways neither could articulate. Then Sunny reached into her pocket and pulled out the maple leaf, extending it toward him with a hand that trembled slightly.
“From Kate,” she said quietly.
Liam’s sharp intake of breath was audible in the silence between them. His fingers brushed hers as he accepted the leaf, cradling it in his large palm as if it were made of glass. Understanding passed between them — an understanding that needed no words, that transcended the need for explanation.
Sunny entered, the familiar scent of lemon furniture polish and fresh flowers wrapping around her like a welcome. She moved to the living room, sensing rather than seeing Liam follow, giving her the space to gather her thoughts.
“I finally went,” she said simply, turning to face him. “I’ve been meaning to for a long time.”
Liam’s eyes widened slightly. “You went to her grave?”
Sunny nodded, sinking onto the couch, her legs suddenly tired from the morning’s emotional exertion. “I needed to… make peace, I guess. With her — but also with the idea of her. With my place in relation to her memory.”
Liam sat beside her, not touching but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. The leaf rested in his palm, a vibrant splash of color against his skin.
“What did you say to her?” he asked, his voice hushed, as if they were sharing secrets in a sacred space.
“That I’ll never try to replace her,” Sunny said, meeting his gaze steadily. “That I’ll honor her memory with the girls, that I’ll make sure they always know how much she loved them.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “I left something there. Maddie’s bracelet — the one she gave me when I was leaving. I told Kate it was a promise that I’d never forget she’s part of our story.”
Liam’s composure wavered, his eyes suddenly shiny. “We go once a month,” he said roughly. “The girls and I. They bring little things sometimes — drawings, flowers, a pretty stone Hailey found in the garden.”
“I know,” Sunny said softly. “I saw the little ceramic butterfly. Hailey’s, right?”
