MILA FELT JORDAN’S hand tighten on hers and she sent him a grateful smile. It was the morning of their event—just over a week since their reconciliation—and she’d told Jordan that she wanted to visit their son’s grave. She’d only ever been to the grave twice—when they’d buried him, and when they’d buried Greg. But after spending the past week talking with Jordan, sharing things that they hadn’t shared with anyone else before, rebuilding their trust and fortifying the foundations of their new relationship, she finally found herself ready.
It didn’t seem right to go through the event without doing it first, so they’d driven over and were now standing just in front of the path that would take them to the grave.
Except now, of course, her legs felt like lead and she didn’t think she could do it.
‘We can do this,’ Jordan said, and she looked over, wondering if she had spoken out loud.
He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed again, and she returned the pressure, knowing that he was just as nervous as she was. Probably even more so, since it was the first time he’d been back after his father’s funeral, too.
Together they walked down the path that led to the family plot Greg had bought after his wife had died. He’d wanted to make sure that the Thomas family would always be together, even in death.
She slid an arm around Jordan’s waist when they stopped in front of the first tombstone—made of the most expensive marble—which told her that Jade Thomas, Jordan’s mother, had only lived until she was forty.
Way too young, she thought, thinking about how much time with her Greg had been robbed of...how early Jordan had lost her. She knew from losing her own parents how growing up without them could hurt. Perhaps it hurt even more, she considered, when you actually knew them.
‘She would have been proud of you,’ she said, leaning her head against Jordan’s shoulder.
He lifted his arm and pulled her in closer. ‘Even though I didn’t look after my dad like she asked?’ he said, but it was half-hearted, and she knew it reflected habit more than what he believed now.
‘I think she would understand,’ Mila replied softly, knowing that the tales she’d told Jordan about his mother—the ones Greg had shared with her in his rare open moments—confirmed her words. Jade had been a lovely woman: stubborn, like all the Thomases, but with just as big a heart as her son.
‘I think she would, too,’ Jordan said eventually, and they walked a few steps further to the front of Greg’s grave. It was identical to Jordan’s mother’s, except that the words were about Greg.
‘“Loving husband and father. You will be missed,”’ she read aloud, and smiled. ‘It’s perfect, Jordan.’ Her throat closed, but she smiled up at him. ‘He did love you. Just in his own way.’
‘I know.’ Jordan laid a hand on the tomb and she waited, knowing that he needed time. ‘I know that you loved me, Dad. I wish we could speak just one more time, so I could tell you I love you, too. So that I could tell you I understand now, and that I forgive you.’ He took a shaky breath. ‘But I think you already know that.’
Mila’s heart broke for him, but she knew that it was healthy. It wouldn’t do for him to keep it all in any more.
When he didn’t say anything else, Mila said, ‘Thank you for everything, Greg.’ That was enough, she thought, but then she remembered something else. ‘Especially for the will. Seems like your plan was right all along.’
They smiled at each other, and then took a few more moments to say goodbye. The overwhelming grief she had felt since Greg’s death dulled to a throb in her heart, and that told her it would be okay. She and Jordan would be okay.
The tiny little tombstone that stood above the grave next to Greg’s still broke her heart, though.
The name they’d decided on and had engraved that week was bold in grey against the black marble stone. Below the name was a black-and-white picture of her and Jordan on the day she had given birth—they both had tears on their faces, and were both clearly heartbroken, but she had her son in her arms and it was their only family photo.
The dates on his tombstone were the date they’d found out they were expecting their child and the date they’d lost him. And below that was an inscription.
You were the light of our lives.
A light that will stay in our hearts for ever.
‘I still have that image of you in my head—you with our son in your arms...the absolute devastation and love on your face.’ He sucked in air, and she felt the sucker punch of his emotions—their emotions—right down to her gut.
‘Me, too. But with your face.’
She spoke because something inside her compelled her to. Perhaps because it was the first time they could acknowledge it together.
‘The dreams I have are about that moment a lot. I had only just felt him alive inside me, and then when I could see him he wasn’t.’ She was whispering now, her voice no longer willing to say the words that told her the wound inside her was still fresh. ‘I’m so glad you got to hold him while he was still alive.’
They clung to each other, and though she knew she was still healing she felt the glimmer of hope that sharing that moment with the only person who knew what she was going through had brought. Suddenly she was even more grateful for their second chance.
We’ll do it right this time, baby, she told her son, and her lips curved even through the tears.
‘He knows how much we love him.’ Jordan’s voice was raw as he spoke, but she saw the hope she felt inside reflected in his eyes.
‘He does. I’m sure our parents tell him that every day.’
The thought of their family together made her smile widen.
‘Yeah...’ He looked down at her. ‘I think so, too.’
It was a long time before either of them spoke again, but finally Jordan said, ‘We should get going. Karen will probably be there for the soundcheck soon.’
They headed back to the car together, and before she climbed in Mila looked back one more time. ‘We’ll visit them again soon, won’t we?’
Jordan kissed her hair. ‘Of course.’
She smiled at him, and couldn’t help but think that the people they had visited would have loved it that she and Jordan were a family again.
* * *
‘I’m sweating like a pig,’ Lulu said, and fanned herself with the clipboard that she insisted on using for her tasks instead of the tablet Mila was using.
Mila laughed, grabbing a bottle of water from the ice bucket behind the stage that Karen had walked out onto a few minutes ago and handed it to her friend.
‘The perks of growing a life inside you!’
Mila found she could say that now, after that morning, without a piercing pain going through her body. It was more like a dull ache in her heart that reminded her of her child, just like her significantly lowered fear of stairs. The necessity of this event had helped her overcome that fear, but she knew it was more than that, too. It was knowing that she could do it that helped her do it. And because of the person who had helped her reach that realisation.
‘No!’ Lulu said after gurgling down half the bottle. ‘There is no way you can tell me that you’re not getting as hot as I am.’
‘Honey, it’s eighteen degrees. We’ve spent the past half an hour handing out blankets to our guests and setting up the outside heaters. You know it’s only you.’
‘Maybe it’s because I’ve been running around for the past week.’
‘And you know I love you for it. Especially when you look at how amazingly it’s turned out.’
She peeped out from the tent they had assembled backstage—just as they had for the first event—and a smile spread on her face.
The amphitheatre held about two hundred fifty people, which was about a hundred more than she had been expecting. Most of them were only there for Karen, but that didn’t matter since they had all still bought food from the vendors, still purchased wine from the vineyard. They had managed to set up the marquee so that it had more than enough space for everyone, and as she looked up she was treated to a stunning view of the stars.
‘It seems like a success.’
A voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to see Mark standing there, with a briefcase in one hand and some papers in the other, with Jordan behind him.
Her heart immediately responded to him being there, and she smiled at him before nervously asking Mark, ‘Did we tick all the boxes?’
Mark pulled his glasses down from the top of his head and read from the paper in front of him. ‘Well, your event is “under the stars”—excellent improvisation, by the way—and you have the same performer, you’re screening the same movie, you have most of the vendors from the original event, and you’ve provided me with all the documentation for those who couldn’t make it, as well as for their replacements. And you’ve done this all within the time limit.’
Mark removed his glasses.
‘So I would say, yes. Congratulations, you two, you’re officially the owners of Greg’s share of the vineyard. I’ll send the paperwork through in the coming weeks.’
Mark excused himself, and as soon as he was gone, Lulu let out a hoot.
‘This is wonderful news, you guys!’ She hugged them both, then waved a hand. ‘But, much as I would like to celebrate with you, my bladder is telling me there are things that take a slightly higher priority at the moment.’
She winked at Jordan before she waddled off, and though that puzzled her Mila jumped into Jordan’s arms the minute they were alone.
‘We did it!’ she said, her body sighing in contentment as soon as it touched his.
‘We did.’ He pulled back, and the look on his face made her heart thud.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘There’s just something... Actually, I can take care of it myself. I’ll just run up to the house...’
He was already starting up the stairs by the time she’d processed his words, and in a bit of a panic she followed him.
‘Jordan!’ she called when they were far enough from the concert that they wouldn’t be heard. ‘Wait!’
She was out of breath when she finally caught up with him, and she rested her hands against her knees when she saw that he’d stopped.
‘Why wouldn’t you just wait for me?’ she puffed, and then straightened. ‘What’s the problem—’
She broke off when she saw where they were, and a smile spread across her face.
‘You are such a sneaky—’
He cut her off with a quick kiss, and then grinned as he pulled back.
‘Surprise!’ he said, and pushed open the gate to the place where they’d picnicked that very first night.
A blanket was spread out, just as it had been then, but this time there was a fire burning in the pit that had been created just in front of it. A bottle of Thomas Vineyard red wine was placed next to two glasses, and a variety of foods similar to those he’d had there the first time sat next to that.
‘It’s perfect,’ she said with a smile as she turned towards him—and froze when she saw him kneeling in front of her.
‘What are you doing?’ she gasped. ‘I’ve already told you I wouldn’t file the papers.’
‘I want to begin our second chance together properly, Mila.’
The teasing glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by a sincerity that sent a tear down her cheek.
‘I can’t live my life without you. I want you—and I need you—by my side for ever. I want to have a family with you, and I want to love you and our family unconditionally. Will you give me the chance to do that?’
She nodded, unable to speak, and he grinned.
‘I’m not done yet.’
He pulled a ring from his pocket, and her heart skipped when she saw it was the one he’d proposed with the first time. The one she had put in a jewellery box the day she’d received the divorce papers and tried never to think about again.
‘Be my wife again, Mila. And not only because we’re still married.’ He smiled. ‘Marry me again.’
‘Yes, of course—yes!’ she said, and he slid the ring onto her finger.
She smiled at its familiar weight.
‘I know the perfect time and the perfect place,’ she said, and hooked her arms around his neck.
He grinned. ‘Me, too. But until then...’
He kissed her, and she melted against him.