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‘Isn’t that two reasons?’
She bit into the smile curving her mouth. ‘That’s why you’re in charge of the casino and I’m in charge of entertainment.’
He smiled. ‘Is Archie okay? Do you think we should go back to the party?’
‘Lei’s got him.’ She hesitated. ‘And she did say we could take as long as we needed.’
‘In that case, I think the party can wait. From now on I’m putting you first.’
And, ignoring her yelp of surprise, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her down to the cabin.
EPILOGUE
GAZING DOWN AT the piano keyboard, Dora frowned. She played a couple of notes softly. It was early, and she didn’t want to wake Charlie. Hesitating, she played them again, changing them slightly, then replayed the first version and sang a couple of bars, testing the rhythm, feeling her way through the chords.
That was it, she thought, a ripple of happiness running over her skin.
It was still so new, so incredible to her. But amazingly—unbelievably—her voice had returned.
At first it had been just a shift in feeling—a slow but fluid sense of having something reawakening inside her. And then it had been impossible to hold back...like floodwater pushing through a levee.
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But that wasn’t the only change to her life.
Looking down at the slim gold band on her finger, she felt her heartbeat stumble.
She and Charlie had married four months ago and this beautiful piano had been his present to her, a wedding day gift—not that she had needed or wanted anything but him.
He was her heart, her soul, her love. And he felt the same way.
He was no longer the man who had dragged her across the ocean to prove her frailties. Now he loved her as she loved him—completely and unconditionally.
It had been a simple private ceremony, on a clear, bright morning. Few guests, no press. Just his mother, his sisters and their partners, and of course Archie.
Her eyes felt suddenly hot.
It wasn’t just she and Charlie who had changed. Archie had changed too. He still got cross, but now they were the usual toddler tantrums about having to wear his coat or wanting to eat pudding first.
The alternately angry and then clingy baby was gone. He felt safe. His life was stable now, and it showed. He was a normal, happy little boy.
Pressing the damper pedal down again, she played the song, feeling the notes vibrate through her body as she remembered the last few months in her head.
Charlie had insisted that they both have bereavement counselling, and it had helped her understand the process of grieving: the guilt, the anger, the despair and finally the acceptance.
But accepting that Della was gone didn’t mean that she would ever forget her sister. She couldn’t—Della was in every cell of her body. Archie’s too.
And he was so like Della: serious and focused and super-bright. But when he smiled, her heart melted.
Just like it did with his brother.
She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that she had a big, stupid smile on her face. Even thinking about him made a fluttering happiness rise up inside of her like migrating butterflies.
She had never been so happy—hadn’t known that this kind of happiness existed, hadn’t known that it was possible to love and be loved like this.
She felt as if a flame had been lit inside her. A flame that had burned away all her fears and doubts about herself.
Charlie had looked inside her and he’d liked what he saw.
