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Sarah hugged her knees, her hair hanging in damp auburn clumps. She drew in a deep breath, appreciating the sun’s warmth on her back and how it highlighted the cloud shadows drifting across Muskoka’s vibrant blue. There was something just so peaceful about this place. Or was it something about the company? Dan was so easygoing. “So, how long have you been coming here?”
“For years.” He stretched out his legs. “My family camped up this way when I was a kid. Now I come for the fishing. It’s a great place to escape from the hockey world.”
“The hockey world?”
His eyebrows shot up, and he studied her a moment longer. Then shrugged. “I play pro hockey, which involves a lot of travel, training, and practice in cold rinks. I love my job, but coming here, where there’s great scenery, and doing what I want when I want is awesome.”
As he described his personal piece of paradise, her heart grasped at his words. “That’s exactly what I’ve wanted. To be away, free from people’s expectations, to take time out. I love it here. I can just be. I don’t have to look a certain way, or smile, or pretend everything is okay.” She shot him a wry glance. “I’ve pretended for so long now, I barely know what’s real.”
Why was she saying this? She barely knew the man. But somehow he seemed safe, like he was someone she could talk to. Someone whom, if he offered to listen, she might dare to finally share with. Sheachedto talk about Stephen to someone who didn’t know him, whose feelings she wouldn’t have to protect, with whom she could just be real for once.
She peeked across. He was gazing at the clouds scudding across the sky, like a man without a care in the world. The pale scar on his jaw dipped in, dipped out. He turned, and she quickly averted her gaze, pretending interest in the glistening lake.
“It’s hard to leave the past behind.”
The gentle words pricked her heart. “I don’t really know how to,” she whispered. “Stephen…” She drew in a pain-tinged breath. Exhaled.
“Your fiancé?”
She nodded, wondering again how much Ange and John had told him. Maybe nothing, judging from that question. “He was.”
“Was?”
Was. Three little letters that encapsulated a world of grief. “We…we were going to a party on New Year’s Eve a year and a half ago when our…our car slammed into a tree.” Pain roared up her throat at the memories. She shook them away, swallowed. “He died.”
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
She shrugged as if his words didn’t stroke the underside of her pain. “Now everyone wants me to be this happy, bubbly girl again, like they want me to forget and move on. Like he wasn’t important to them.”
“Is that why you still wear his ring?”
Sarah nodded, twirling the diamond around her finger, surprised at his sensitivity.
“People care about you.”
“Sometimes they care too much.” Her breath caught, her chest growing taut. “I…I feel like a huge part of my heart is missing. I don’t know who I am or what I’m supposed to do with my life. I feel so lost, like I can’t cope anymore.”
As if to prove her words true, emotion swelled, tsunami-like, pausing for a fraction of a second, then pummeling through her, a relentless wave straight from her heart to line the backs of her eyes, nose, and throat. Oh no. She breathed out slowly, desperately trying to hold it in as she hunched away, but it was too late, her silent tears leaking to drip onto her towel. One. Two. A dozen. More. She wiped at her face, willing him not to notice, even as her sniffling whimpers refused restraint. How excruciating. She needed a tissue. Shereallyneeded to leave. She shifted to scramble away, felt a touch on her shoulder, and froze.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She heard the crunch of pebbles as Dan walked away, probably to phone Ange to say her niece was a basket case. She didn’t blame him for leaving. A shudder shook her as her chest swelled with new emotion. Suddenly she didn’t care what she looked like. How long had it been since she’d cried it out? Had she ever? The doctors and nurses and counsellors had all wanted her to focus on getting well and not give in to grief. But they weren’t here. Neither were her parents. She didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“Oh, God. Why?”
Breath hitched, the tears trickling down her cheeks quickly turned into chest-heaving sobs wrenched from the deepest part of her soul. Sorrow writhed, like a living presence trapped within, as she cried for Stephen, cried for herself, cried for her lost future.Why, God? Why?It wasn’t fair. Would never be fair.
It just was.
The weeping continued, then gradually lessened, escaping in a series of rib-bruising wheezes, then she exhaled shakily. Drew in another ragged breath. Wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. Noticed a tissue box had mysteriously appeared. Great. So there had been at least one spectator to her grief. Oh well. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone here. She snagged a tissue and blew her nose—loudly—to emphasize the fact. Pushed out another shoulder-slumping sigh.
Footsteps behind her stilled her movements, tension bracing her as Dan resumed his spot, near but not too near. Had he heard her banshee wails before? She cringed. How could he not? Oh, what did it matter?
The sounds of the lake gradually stole into awareness again: the hush of breeze, the sigh of pines, the song of waves. Far above, an eagle wheeled and whirled. Into her soul stole a measure of…
Peace.
It had been so long since she’d felt this way she barely recognized the feeling. The tight coldness encasing her heart had eased, like an iceberg splintering into the sea. She felt lighter, as if the grief had been weighing her down, holding her prisoner, seeping out in anger and bitterness. Funny. She didn’t feel angry like that anymore. Embarrassment, however…
