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“Now, don’t fuss,” Charles said, holding up his hands. “This store is yours, has been for years, and it’s been damn depressing without you here these two weeks. Of course, it isn’t officially yours till I’m dead, but still. Also, I’m officially retiring, so you’re in charge, whenever you want to come back and take over.”

“But … but …”

She didn’t know what to say. Eventually she laughed, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you!”

“It was Grayson’s idea,” Charles said when she finally pulled away. Her pulse quickened at the mention of his name. “Don’t worry, I hired new assistants. He’s not here anymore.”

Her heart crashed. So he really was gone. While she had been expecting such a thing, the reality devastated her. Those two workers outside must have been new help Charles hired.

“Speaking of, there’s something else for you,” he said, handing her a folded piece of paper. He walked out, leaving her alone in the office. With a shaking breath, she unfolded it.

She instantly recognized Grayson’s handwriting.

There is no world in which I win by losing you. The store is yours, it always has been. Congratulations.

But she didn’t feel like she had won either, because she had lost him.

“I wish you had stayed,” she whispered, and hearing the words out loud, she suddenly realized something.

She had never said those words before. She had never once actually asked Grayson to stay. And she should have.

Her heart hammered. She’d thought it was obvious that she wanted him to stay, but of course it hadn’t been.

She had told him to leave, for fuck’s sake! He had spent his whole life feeling unwanted, so of course he wouldn’t have stayed unless he was asked. Oh no.

Lucy reached for her purse, fishing out her phone with trembling hands. She went to her contacts, tapping his name as her heartbeat sped. Holding her breath, she brought the phone to her ear and listened as it rang.

She waited and waited, urgency beating through her.

The line went to his voicemail. He didn’t pick up.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Lucy

Lucy left the office in a hurry, dialing Grayson’s number again.

“Lucy, wha—” Charles began, seeing the expression on her face.

“I have to go!” she called, running outside. The phone continued to ring, and she was filled with the fear that it was already too late, but she had to try.

Still, he didn’t pick up.

Frustrated, she went to her car, throwing the door open and getting in. It can’t be too late, she told herself.

“Please pick up,” Lucy said, dialing him again as she drove.

She missed him with an ache so piercing it hurt, and perhaps she was a glutton for punishment, but she found herself driving to the duck pond, where they had had their first date. Still, he didn’t pick up, and Lucy tried to think of a plan, but her mind wasn’t working. When she arrived at the pond, she got out of her car, hoping the fresh air would help spark some idea of what to do next.

It was early June now, and he had been right: It really was more beautiful in the summer. Everything was lush and green, the pond a perfect blue, the ducks happily swimming in the sun.

She walked up the trail, going deeper into the woods. She was the only one there, and the silence helped her think about what to say.

She called him again.

And this time, she was ready. As the phone told her to leave a voice-mail, she took a deep breath: