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“YOU’VE TAKEN THE FIRSTstep, Roland, and I am so proud of you.”

Roland didn’t say anything as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the wall, facing an open door. There was a time that door would have been wide open, but over the years, it seemed to be closing on him, little by little. Now he could barely see inside well enough to make out Becca--the woman he had lost close to fifteen years ago.

Every so often, they would meet this way and he would bring her up to date on what was going on in his life. She would stand just beyond the doorway, surrounded by the whitest clouds and bluest sky and listen to what he said. She would smile, letting him know she was enjoying their conversation. However, lately, she did most of the talking and he listened…at least he tried to.

Becca’s messages to him were always the same--it was time to stop grieving her and move on. She wasn’t coming back and life was too precious to waste away. Numerous times she’d tried to convince him that there was someoneelse out there who needed all that love he had bottled up inside of him.

Roland staunchly refused to believe that--he didn’t want to accept it. There would never be another woman for him. Becca Summers, the wife he’d lost on this side, too young and too tragically, was his one and only.

“It’s time for you to move on, Roland.”

“No!”

“Yes! You’ve held on to me long enough. You have your memories and -”

“I want more than memories, Becca. I want you,” he said, his eyes brimming with the tears that he couldn’t hold back.

“You have to go on. I can’t come back to you. And…”

The unwavering resoluteness in her voice sent panic racing through him. He straightened to his full height. “And what?”

“This is my last visit, Roland. The door will finally close on us tonight. It’s time for you to think about what you can have with someone else.”

“No!”

“You have a big heart, Roland Summers, and it’s time to open it up to a woman who will make you happy.”

“Only you can do that, and I refuse to let you close the door, Becca, please….”

“I must. You’ve taken the first step by moving out of our home. Now it’s time for you to take more steps. You can do it, Roland.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You must. I love you. Always remember that. Goodbye, Roland.”

Suddenly, the door closed with a finality that shook him to the core. He moved quickly and tried to reopen it but it wouldn’t bulge. “Becca! Becca! Don’t go! Please don’t go!” he hollered, beating on the door with his fists, intending to break it down if he had to do so. “Becca, please don’t go.”

Roland Summers jerked up in bed, drenched in sweat. He’d had that dream again. Had it already been five years since the night Becca had said goodbye for the final time? Yet it felt like only yesterday. Each time he had this dream, he could feel the pain in his hand from trying to beat the door down, and he would wake up drenched in sweat from the exertion.

He sat up on the side of the bed, feeling his body ache all over. Especially his heart. When a man loved a woman as much as he’d loved his wife--then losing her the way he had—it became a constant pain. One that just wouldn’t go away.

Getting out of bed, he walked over to the window and looked out at downtown Charlottesville. Taking that first step--moving out of their house and getting an apartment--had been incredibly hard, which was the reason he hadn’t sold the house but had decided to rent it out instead. It had taken several more years before he’d finally had the heart to sell the house for good.

The house had sold quickly and a few months ago, he’d signed a year’s lease on a condo. He hadn’t been ready to buy another house. Wasn’t sure if he even wanted another one, considering he’d be the only one living in it. Besides, he spent most of his time at the office anyway. Over theyears, Summers Security Firm had become his life and he couldn’t see that changing anytime soon.

“It’s time for you to change that too, Roland.”

He jerked around. Had he heard Becca’s voice? He rubbed his hands down his face. Moving back to the bed, he slid back beneath the covers. Over the years, before that blasted door closed for good, Becca would assure him that she was in a peaceful place. He wanted to believe that.

He had to believe that.

“I’M GLAD YOU’RE HERE,Roland,” Joy Courson said, smiling as she moved aside. “Now that you are, hopefully, Stonewall, Quasar and Striker can stop worrying about when you’ll show up.”

“Didn’t you give them my message?” Roland asked, entering the house filled with other party guests who’d been invited to Joy and Stonewall’s housewarming.

“Of course, I did. But you know how they are.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “How many times do I need to remind them that I’m a grown ass man who can take care of himself? For heaven’s sake, I run my own security firm.”

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