Page 84 of The Lilac River

I couldn’t help but snicker.

"She doesn’t stay down long," I said proudly.

Felicia laughed. "No, she doesn’t. Oh, and there are the centerpieces and wreaths I told you about. I finished them yesterday."

I turned to look at the display and whistled low. "They’re incredible. You’ve outdone yourself."

Felicia preened a little, clearly pleased.

When laughter drifted in from outside, we both turned again. Lily’s face was lit with a smile as she watched the kids. She looked right. Like she belonged there, bathed in sunlight, surrounded by laughter.

"She’s looking prettier than ever," Felicia said softly, catching me off guard.

"Bertie?" I asked, pretending ignorance.

Felicia just smiled patiently. "You know who I mean."

I swallowed hard. "It’s complicated."

"It always is," she said. "But sweetheart, you loved that girl once. Maybe you still do."

"I can’t just forget what happened."

"No one’s asking you to." She stepped closer, laying a hand over my heart. "But sometimes pain needs love to heal. Not walls. Not anger."

"What if I’m too broken?"

Felicia smiled sadly. "You’re not. You’re bruised, Nash. Not broken."

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. "I hide it well."

"No, you don't," she said, her voice full of quiet affection. "Not from people who love you."

Stepping back behind the counter, she nodded toward the window. "Now, go out there. Hug your little girl. Maybe even talk to your big girl."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Leaving me standing there, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Felicia was right.

As I stepped out of the store, the sticky heat hit me like a wall, but it didn’t matter. I spotted Bertie immediately—her dark hair, the exact same shade as mine, bobbing as she listened intently to Shane, nodding at everything he said. She was all big brown eyes and serious concentration, clutching a sprig of lavender like it was a treasure.

And next to her, crouching down to tie the loose shoelace of one of Bertie’s classmates, was Lily.

I watched her from the edge of the porch, completely still.

She smiled at the little girl she was helping, soft, patient, radiant and when she looked up, she caught Bertie watching her. Something passed between them, something so pure it made my chest ache.

Bertie grinned, shy and adoring, and Lily laughed, ruffling my daughter’s hair in a way that made Bertie preen with pride.

God help me.

I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was halfway across the yard. Every part of me was pulled toward her, drawn to that light she carried like a flame. The years, the hurt, the stubbornness, all of it faded in the face of this simple, perfect moment.

Maybe Felicia was right.

Maybe pain could be salved with love.

Maybe it already was.

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