Chapter 24

Marsha closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of warm sunlight on her face. Her body moved gently back and forth on the swing that she was sitting on, being rocked by the wind.

She was at one of the Blueberry Bay parks with Willis, the one where the statue of Joseph Braxton still stood. Now the statue was made of bronze, but it was still placed on the same stone pedestal that the original wooden statues had been on. The two of them had decided to meet there for inspiration the night before while they were at Paige Garner's scholarship celebration party. Well—the party that turned out to be more of a celebration of being true to oneself.

I'm so proud of that girl,she thought, feeling her heart swirl with more than one emotion. She was so brave to get up there and tell everyone what she was really feeling and decide to follow her heart like that.

She felt a twinge of regret. Ever since the events of the night before, she had been thinking nonstop about what could have happened in her own life if she had chosen her own path back when she was young. She felt sad about it but was also comforted by the knowledge that at least she had finally started taking her own path. Her life was now exactly what she wanted—well, almost.

She smiled at Willis as he approached the swing set that she was sitting on. He looked very handsome that morning, she thought, even though he was just wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans.

"Good morning," she said warmly. "How are you today?"

"Tired," he admitted as he sat down in the swing next to hers. Her heart fluttered. "How about you?"

"Oh, fine. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

He looked up at the brilliant blue sky and smiled. "It is. A nice temperature here by the water."

"That's one of my favorite things about Blueberry Bay. And Whale Harbor too, I guess. It never feels too hot to me."

They smiled at each other for a moment and then he asked, "What have you been thinking about? You looked very contemplative, sitting here by yourself and swinging."

She sighed, although she kept smiling. "Last night got me thinking about the past. I wish I'd been brave like Paige and chosen my own path like that."

He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. She beamed at him, grateful for the gesture.

"Do you ever wonder what sort of life we would have had together?" she asked him softly.

"I think about it all the time," he admitted, and for a moment they shared tender eye contact. He stood up, moved behind her, and started to gently push her on the swing.

Her heart was fluttering over his words, and the tempo of her bloodstream seemed to be moving faster just as the swing was starting to move faster.

"I think," he said slowly, his voice gruff, "maybe Hannah and Olivia are right about everything. Maybe we do deserve a second chance."

The world seemed to slow down and then speed up again for her. For a moment she wasn't sure if she had really heard him right.

"I—I think so too, Willis." She wished she could see his face, but not being able to made the conversation easier in some ways. She still felt close to him as they talked, since he continued to push her on the swing. "I'm sorry for how I behaved in the past but—well, I would like a second chance. To do things differently this time."

Willis didn't speak for a few moments, and then he said, "I was very hurt by how you left me, Marsha. And then when my wife left me years later—well, it felt like I was stuck in some kind of pattern."

She winced, regretting so much how she had hurt him. "I never wanted you to feel that way," she told him.

"I know," he said soothingly, patting her shoulder. "But I've been feeling as though I didn't want to set myself up for that kind of pain again."

She nodded, her eyes on the ocean in front of them and her heart racing. "I understand how you feel. But—well, sometimes we just have to take the risk. We might get hurt, but we might end up with lives that are so much better than what we have now. And I think—well, I think us parting ways without trying would feel painful too." For a moment she was quiet, and then she added, "After experiencing so many years without you, I feel sure that giving our relationship another try and failing couldn't be more painful than it was to feel like I'd lost you forever, and it was my fault. You are the love of my life, after all."

The words just spilled out of her, without a second thought. Behind her, Willis stopped pushing the swing. He brought it gently to a stop by guiding the chains with his hands. She blinked, surprised.

I guess he's startled by what I just said, she thought. It's old news to me, but he's never heard it before. I just told him out loud that he's the love of my life.

"Is that true?" he asked softly. He stepped around the swing so that he was facing her.

"It is," she admitted, looking up into his eyes and feeling her heart racing.

Something shifted in his expression. His gaze was still tender, but it looked as if he was making an effort of some kind.

"Marsha," he said slowly. "It's hard for me to open up after being so closed off to my feelings for so long. But I—well, you should know that… you're the love of my life as well."

Her heart swelled. She stood up from the swing, stepping closer to him. She didn't know what to do or say, but she felt so happy in that moment, she knew she would remember it for the rest of her life.

"I've missed you so much, Willis," she whispered.

"I've missed you so much too."

They stood there gazing into each other's eyes, and she treasured the tender moment. She could tell that he still felt uncertain about something, and she asked him if something was the matter.

"I'm—well, I'm not sure I'm cut out for the kind of love that we once had," he admitted. "I'm not the man I used to be. I've closed off my heart, and I've lived that way for years. I'm not sure if I can open my heart up again in the way I know you'd want me to."

She nodded, her heart aching for the tender young man that he had been. She felt so sorry that he'd gone through what he had. But despite his words, she held onto the hope that after some time, he could learn to reopen his heart—especially if she was there to take care of it.

"I understand," she told him gently. "But—don't let yourself get too caught up in thinking about the future. We can't know what's going to happen. Without thinking about what may happen in the future, what do you want in this moment and only in this moment?"

"I want to kiss you," he said softly, that old playful smile appearing on his face.

Her heart leapt up. "You should," she whispered.

His smile widened, and then he leaned down toward her and kissed her gently. The kiss was sweet and short, but she felt as if the earth moved under her feet.

As they pulled back from the kiss, she gazed up into his eyes and saw multiple emotions—he looked happy and close to tears at the same time. She felt the same way. She was filled with feelings of nostalgia and happiness and nervousness and love.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he whispered back.

She laughed—so lightly it was almost a sigh. "For the kiss."

"Oh." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "You're very welcome."

For a few moments, neither of them said anything. A sweet, cool breeze from the sea blew against their faces.

"Should we go take a look at this statue?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes," he said, reaching out and taking her hand. "Let's go."