Because his legs could no longer hold him, he sat on the side of the bed by her hip and lifted her cool hand. He swallowed hard, taking in the tracheotomy tube protruding from her windpipe.

“Hey, Laura. It’s been a long time.”

Of course, she didn’t respond, but talking to her gave him an odd sort of comfort. He rubbed circles in her palm with his thumb, remembering she used to like that small touch. Her fingernails were neat and clean. Before her accident, she was always elbow deep in acrylics while working on a canvas. It was strange, seeing her hands without at least some dried paint around the cuticles.

“Jake got married. I went home for the wedding. You would’ve hated it. Elegant and traditional. It was really nice, though.”

He sighed and gathered his wits to tell her everything. She may not be able to hear him and understand, but that didn’t make the telling any easier on him.

“I met someone in Wilmington. Her name’s Faith and she’s really quiet. I know, a total contrast from you, but we . . . fit somehow. She has this crazy way of drawing out the best in people. Somehow, she found some good in me.”

His breath hitched and his voice cracked, sending tears pouring down his face. “I tried not to fall for her. Honest, I did. But she’s so damn lovable.” He wiped his eyes, but more tears came anyway, so he gave up. He felt like his chest was cracked wide open, splitting his ribs and exposing all the ugliness inside. “Even my dad loves her. But, Christ. Her own damn parents don’t. I know we complained about ours a lot, but hers take the cake. They made her believe she was invisible. I mean, she did nothing but love them and give them everything she had, and they just . . .”

He stilled as his voice trailed off, his gaze landing on the wall, eyes not seeing what was in front of him. Rather, the image of Faith’s face at the moment she had bravely confessed her love floated in his memory. Even when she knew he’d leave. Even though she knew he might not say it back. Even though no one had ever shown her any real version of love in her own life.

“They let her go. Just like I did.” Cementing her belief that she wasn’t someone worthy of their love. That no one would stick because, hell, everyone in her life walked. “I’m no better than they are.”

Slowly, he moved his gaze back toward the woman in the bed. Adrenaline tore through him, making his body shake. “I guess I really came to say good-bye.” He sniffed and blew out an uneven breath. “I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of, however long you’re here. You’ll get the best of everything. Always. But I can’t do this anymore. You and I . . . we never would’ve made it. And to keep lying to myself, to keep holding the guilt inside over a mistake you made while too young and swamped in grief, wouldn’t be fair to Faith. Or myself.”

Though it hurt to let go of her hand and lay it gently on the bed, hope bloomed in his chest. It had been so long since he felt it that he almost didn’t recognize it. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I wish you well, Laura.”

*   *   *

Mia shoved another Tootsie Roll in her mouth and spoke around it. “Are you sure you don’t want one? Candy therapy works wonders.”

Faith leaned back on the Adirondack chair on the deck and forced a smile. She’d been doing that for a week, forcing a smile. Love wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. It was supposed to be joyous and everlasting.

Love wasn’t supposed to sneak out before dawn and leave a heart-shaped charm for the bracelet it bought you with a note that said, Always.

She sighed. “You and baby are craving the sugar. I’m good.”

Mia had been coming by to keep Faith company in the evenings, after she was finished working with Ginny. Lacey and Jake were due back from their honeymoon any minute now, but Mia had taken it upon herself to be Faith’s babysitter so she wouldn’t wallow too deep in misery while they were gone.

It was nice of Mia to try and make her feel better, but nothing was going to accomplish that. Alone or with friends, busy or bored, Alec was there, hurting her all over again. Hurting himself. When would this end? When would the pain stop?

“Why don’t you go back to Charlotte for a couple of days?” Mia suggested. “Maybe the comfort of home will help.”

“There’s nothing there for me.” Another realization she’d come to this week.

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Alec had wanted her to cling tight to her friendship with Mia and Lacey. He was right, too. Her friends should know more about her, other than that she had a sister who died. Opening her eyes, she looked at Mia and spilled her guts.

“So, there’s no one but you guys. My parents will always be my parents, but they’re not you guys. I’m better off in Wilmington.”

Mia took her hand in hers and squeezed. “Then here you shall stay. You’ll always have us.”

Appreciative that Mia didn’t barrage her with questions or sympathy, Faith looked at the ocean. Sunlight hit the waves and reflected. A few sailboats dotted the horizon. Calming as the water was, it, too, only reminded her of Alec.

“I think I need to find my own apartment.” There wasn’t anywhere on the estate she could go that didn’t tie back to a painful memory. She’d miss waking up to this view, but she needed a change. She couldn’t keep going on like this.

“I’ll help you look for a place, if that’s what you want.”

Faith didn’t know what she wanted, besides Alec. And she couldn’t have him.

Mia leaned forward. “My mother was an alcoholic. I think she drank to forget about the pain, until one day she got so deep in the bottle no one could get her back out.” She sighed and glanced away. “Like your parents with you, she never formed a connection to Ginny. I don’t know why. Maybe because of her depression or Ginny’s disability, who knows. I tried to make up for that by being everything Ginny needed. I had no support system and no backup plan.” She trained her blue gaze on Faith. “And then I came back here. It wasn’t easy, and there was a lot standing in our way, but Cole loved me. The rest of it didn’t matter. My mother’s inability to love wasn’t Ginny’s fault, and it’s not your fault either that your parents are incapable. They’re the ones with the loose wire, not you.”

Faith didn’t know what to say, other than Mia and Cole were perfect for each other. Ginny was darn lucky to have Mia. It took a lot of strength to not only carry on, but to carry someone else when there was nothing left. She knew Mia was right, too, but it was hard to argue the point when her parents had been perfectly capable of loving Hope.

Regret and understanding shone in Mia’s eyes. “You just need one person, Faith, to make you believe in yourself. One person to make you believe you are someone. Because you are someone. Don’t doubt that for a minute.”

Lacey swept around the house and onto the deck, holding several shopping bags and a brown paper-wrapped package. “I’m suntanned and I’m exhausted.” She plopped onto a chair. “Honeymoons are awesome.”

Mia grinned. “Sounds like you had a fabulous time.”

“It really was spectacular. What’s wrong?” Lacey zeroed in on Faith.

Before she could answer, Mia filled in the gaps for Lacey.

“Oh, sweetie.” Lacey jumped off her chair and wrapped her in a hug. “Jake didn’t tell me Alec was already gone. I thought he’d wait until we got back . . . never mind. How are you holding up?”

“I tried to offer candy therapy, but she refused.”

Lacey peeked into the nearly empty bag. “Craving much?”

Faith laughed, for the first time in too long. “She’s been eating them day and night for the past week.”

Lacey patted Faith’s knee. “I have something that might make you feel better. I meant to give it to you before the wedding, but things got crazy with last-minute details.” She lifted the package and handed it to her. “It’s sentimental, so be prepared. I just . . . I hope you like it.”