Page 89 of Shuttered Hearts

“Are you sure?” I ask both of them.

“Absolutely. If Ava wants it, it’s hers for as long as she needs it,” Scott says, his tone telling me it’s no longer up for discussion.

“Can we go back to the two of you living together?” Caleb asks, gesturing to Quinn and me. “I’m not sure how I feel about my sister living with my best friend.” I can see the spark in his eye, telling me he’s not serious.

“Caleb, they spend every night together,” Max says from his seat. “How will this be any different?”

“It just makes it all more real and permanent,” Caleb says, a smile growing on his face when he sees Quinn getting amped up. And sure enough, she starts ranting about how ridiculous he’s being.

I lean back in my seat again, a content smile on my face. Scott catches my eye, and when I turn to look at him, he smiles and gives me a quick nod. Telling me he’s happy for us.

I don’t know what we’ll do when he’s gone, but I know we’ll survive because we’ll lean on each other. None of us will let the others grieve alone, and each of us will keep his memory alive. Although it will be devastating, he’ll never truly leave us. The memory of what an incredible man he is will live on long after he’s gone.

For now, though, I’m just going to soak in the feeling of being surrounded by family because there is nothing better than this feeling.

Quinn leans into my side, bringing my attention back to her. “Thank you for loving my shuttered heart,” she whispers.

“Thank you for loving mine,” I say, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

epilogue

QUINN

Four Years Later

“You doing okay, Bug?”Declan asks, walking up behind me. He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me close, my back to his front.

I place my hands over his, leaning back into him, taking a deep breath. “I’m good,” I tell him.

“You sure?” He bends to kiss the skin where my shoulder and neck meet, holding his lips there.

“Yeah.” I turn into him, cuddling into his chest.

“We can cancel if you want. We don’t have to have everyone over today.”

“No, we can’t cancel. It’s tradition. It’s what Dad would want.”

“I don’t know about that,” he says softly.

He pulls me in close, and I can tell he’s looking at the portrait he painted for me that first Christmas we spent together. It’shung on a wall in the front room that has turned into our little gallery, displaying the paintings Declan continues to create and the photographs I’ve continue to take. A gallery displaying the love we both found in our art again, a love we helped each other rediscover.

That might be a little cheesy, definitely something Declan would say, but no matter what, the portrait of Dad stands out—the way he always will in our lives, whether he’s with us today or not.

“I think he would just be happy we’ve carried on the traditions he started. Our Sunday morning breakfasts, attending the Fall Harvest Festival, Christmas morning presents with everyone together, big birthday celebrations.” Declan pauses, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure how he would feel about the big deal we make of today.”

Today marks four years since we lost Dad, and while the hurt is not as sharp, it’s still a hard day.

It was April when his health started to decline quickly. Declan and I moved into the house to help and support Max through the transition, but in the end, Caleb and I decided Max should live with him and Emily permanently after Dad’s passing.

While Dad made it through May, holding on long enough to meet his first grandchild, Fiona, he wasn’t with us when I married Declan in July. When he passed in June, it was in his home, surrounded by the family he brought together, both by blood and by choice. Those who loved him dearly surrounded him, knowing he felt that love till his last breath.

The thing I’ve learned about grief is you never really get over it. It accompanies you through life as an undercurrent. Some days, you’re able to continue with ease, and other days, it pulls you under and makes you pause.

Today is the latter; it always is.

The tradition Declan is referring to is the annual get-together we have on the day Dad passed. It’s not all that different from any other family gathering, except everyone is a little more somber than usual. From that viewpoint, I know Declan is right. Dad wouldn’t want us to spend the day sad, although I am sure he would understand. He’d want us to be happy.

The thing is, we are happy. The lives each of us has built are so much brighter than we thought possible. And Dad is such an essential part of that. We miss him every day, but he lives on in all of us.

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