Page 74 of Courage, Dear Heart

I nod. “Yes. I can’t bear the idea of Jamie getting attached to someone and then losing that person again.”

Elliott squeezes my hand. “I understand. I can’t promise forever. No one can. But I can promise to always be honestwith you. And always be a friend to you and him. No matter what happens. I think—I think we can make this work.”

My throat tightens. I haven’t felt this way since CJ. Excited, giddy, turned on. Guilt, my old friend, nibbles at me.

Elliott lifts my chin, gazing into my eyes. “It’s okay to be scared, to have doubts, to worry even. It’s not okay to feel guilt over how you feel about me—us being together. You’re human. Not a machine that can be programmed to feel one way or another.”

And then his lips are on mine again, soft and sweet this time but no less heated. I melt into his embrace, the world fading around us until there’s only this moment, this kiss, this man who’s somehow impossibly stitching my broken heart back together.

FORTY

Jillian

The sun castsshimmering gold flecks over the water’s surface as we settle into our spots along the river. I look at the lazy current and frown.

Elliott tugs at a corner of the blanket. “Don’t worry about him being so close to the water. I won’t take my eyes off him.”

He correctly reads my expression. Even if Jamie is a good swimmer, thanks to years of lessons at the Y, he’s not used to anything other than a pool.

I walk to the bank, scrutinizing the water.

Elliott comes to my side. “It’s very shallow all around for at least ten feet in. I grew up playing in this river. The water is no higher than his knees.”

It’s true. The water is so clear I can see every pebble under the surface for several feet. I drag in a breath and force myself to relax. Jamie is so excited, I don’t want to take away from this experience.

Elliott hands Jamie a small fishing rod. My son watchesand listens with intense focus as Elliott explains how to cast the fishing line.

“Here you go, buddy. Hold the rod like this.” Elliott guides Jamie’s hands with gentle precision. “Now you sit and wait. When you feel a tug, reel it in.”

Jamie looks at me, and I smile. A soft breeze ripples through the trees, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. I lie down on the blanket Elliott set up near the water’s edge and close my eyes, enjoying the early morning sun on my face, the sound of lapping water against the shore, and the birds singing in the trees.

A loud squealing sound startles me. I blink, disorientated. I fell asleep. Jamie! My heart pounding, I sit up to be greeted with a scene that makes me freeze. Happy squeals coming out of Jamie. He’s jumping from one foot to another as he tugs back the fishing pole, the line tense with something pulling it back. He’s forgotten all of Elliott’s instructions in his excitement.

“Reel it in, buddy!” Elliott encourages with a grin. “You’ve got this!”

I grab my phone and stand up, get it all on video for him.

Jamie’s eyes narrow in concentration as he reels in the fish, his little hands gripping the rod tightly. Elliott is beside him but allows Jamie to do all the work, taking full ownership of his catch. The fish surfaces, fighting back the pull of the line, its silvery scales glistening in the sunlight.

Elliott kneels at the water’s edge and grabs the line to keep the fish from thrashing on the dirt. “Great job, Jamie!”

I walk up to them. “You did it! You got your first fish!”

Jamie looks up at me. He’s so proud of himself.

“Let’s take some pictures to show Grace and Sheila.”

Elliott gently takes the wriggling fish from the hook, careful not to harm it, and shows Jamie how to hold it. I take several pictures of Jamie. “Elliott, get in that picture, too.”

He complies and I take several more.

Elliott gently takes the fish back from Jamie. “We’re going to release it back into the river. We don’t want to keep him out of the water for more than a minute or two.” He instructs Jamie how to carefully lower it back into the water.

Jamie watches the water and I step closer to Elliott.

“I think you created a core memory. He’s so happy.”

He tugs at a lock of my hair. “Two core memories. I’m happy too.”

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