I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the memory and how close I came to taking my life on that storm-swept night. I’ve come so far in the last two and a half years. I have Ivy. I have a new baby on the way. The house is finished. The garden center is thriving. I have so much to be thankful for. But there’s one last thing that will make it all complete.

“C’mon, Shep,” I call out, patting the side of my leg after putting the varnish away. “It’s time.”

I yank the chain dangling from the exposed light bulb in the woodshed and snap the padlock on the door while Shep fidgets beside me. I take off at a run and Shep races me to my truck. There’s a lightness to my step when I think about the errand we are going on.

I look up at the house and really take it in. Even though Ivy isn’t here, I feel her presence all around me. Her muddy clogs rest near the flowerbed she was digging up for winter. Her rocking chair faces mine from the last time I massaged her feet. Next to the koi pond she loves so much, her junker of a car is parked—badly in need of a new transmission we just can’t afford. Thankfully what I’m after doesn’t require money. It’s something that’s been in my family for generations, and now it’s going to be hers.

Hoisting myself behind the wheel, I let Shep jump onto my lap and crawl over me. He gets to ride shotgun because Ivy isn’t here and his ears prick up, showing his excitement. His tongue slobbers across my face as he gives me a big ol’ sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Gee, thanks,” I chuckle, pulling him away by the collar. “You missed having me all to yourself, didn’t you?”

But Shep’s anxious to get going as he moves over to look out the window, swatting me in the face with his tail as he goes by.

“All right, to grandmother’s house we go.” I exclaim, heading down the road with a smile on my face.

From the moment I swept Ivy off her feet, I pictured making this journey. Driving to my parents’ house. Asking for my grandmother’s ring. Placing it on Ivy’s finger. Showing her how much I’ve come to care about her—first with my words, then with my body. Since the day we met, I’ve hoped that this would be where we’d end up. Call me a fool. Call me old-fashioned. Call me crazy. The instant I held her in my arms, I knew I wanted to live again.

I thought that I was done with romance, that I’d had my shot at love. But one look at her and I was a goner. I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t looking for it. But there she was—the gift I’d never intended to receive. Nestled in those sparkling green eyes, life was giving me a second chance.

Up until then, getting through each day felt like I was holding my breath underwater, just waiting to drown. But the way she looked at me pulled me to the surface, out of the murky depths. I was clumsy at first, gasping and sputtering, relearning how to breathe and what it felt like to be alive. But she was patient with me, showing me how to bask in the warm glow of daylight again. Just being around her rejuvenated my spirit, like she was the lifeguard of my soul.

Lost in my daydreams of Ivy, I can’t believe we’re already here as I beep the horn at the base of the rocky trail leading to my parents’ house. It takes so long to creep up the uneven terrain that it became a habit to honk at the gate. My dad likes to be standing at the door, treat in hand, ready to greet Shep when he arrives. So I always have to give him a heads-up when his ‘grand-dog’ is on the way. Beside me, Shep is already going nuts.

I chuckle to myself when I see my dad in his suspenders sitting outside. He has his glasses perched up top of his head, and he looks worn out. He’s been having those headaches again. I should’ve manned up and completed the shift at the garden center instead of bothering him about it.

He smiles when we pull up, but I still feel guilty. I’m going to have to get a better grip on my emotions. I can’t keep putting him through this. He’s seen enough of my moods to last a lifetime.

“There’s my buddy,” he says, opening the car door to let Shep out. “I have your Milk-Bone all ready for you.”

“You have that dog spoiled rotten,” I mutter, joining them as we walk inside. “I can just imagine how you’re going to be when you have a real grandchild to fawn over.”

“Did your mom tell you about the stuffed giraffe we came across the other day?” he asks, rubbing his hands together. “It’s eight feet tall and its neck goes all the way to the ceiling.”

“You didn’t buy it, I hope.” I groan audibly as we enter the kitchen, and I give my mom a kiss.

“Of course we did, sweetie. How could we pass something like that up?” my mom exclaims, grinning at me.

“Don’t you think it might scare the baby? I want my child to feel safe in the nursery, especially after all the hours I spent making the crib,” I argue, even though it’s a lost cause. I already have visions of strapping the stuffed monstrosity to the back of my truck, fuzzy neck and all. There’s no getting out of it now.

“Oh good! So you did finish it.” My mom’s face lights up. “It’s on to step two then?”

“That’s why I’m here. I plan on proposing to Ivy the minute she steps off that plane.” My chest fills with pride. I want nothing more than to make Ivy my wife. Sure, we’re living together, and she just so happens to be carrying my child. But there’s something about walking down the aisle and making it official. I want to share everything I have with her. My name. My heart. My life.

“Did you hear from her yet?” my dad asks softly after having seen me go off the rails earlier today. I was ready to freak out after a little girl toppled over a whole bushel of apples, sending them sprawling across the floor. My nerves at that point were razor thin. My dad knew I didn’t need any more aggravation. He simply patted me on the back as I walked out the door.

I hate having to ask people for help, but I learned that sometimes it’s necessary, especially when I’m feeling overly stressed and at my breaking point. It’s no good flying off the handle when all I need is a few quiet moments to myself. Since my blow-up with Ivy for wearing Cassidy’s shirt, my dad made me realize what my limitations are. I can’t let life push me that far or let certain things trigger my meltdowns. I can’t always be in control, but I have to remember to step back and breathe whenever I start to feel overwhelmed. If I don’t, I only end up hurting the ones I love.

“No, and I tried every way I could think of to get in touch with her,” I sigh, running my hands through my hair. Suddenly I feel as haggard as my dad looks.

“I bet she couldn’t get to a phone store, honey, and she was most likely out of her hotel room all day. Will’s probably running her ragged, the poor thing.” I sense the concern in my mom’s voice, and I have no doubt she’s thinking what I’m thinking. Such a hectic schedule would be a strain on a regular person, never mind someone who’s pregnant. My worries keep multiplying as the minutes tick by.

“If you don’t hear from her by tonight then we call the cops.” My dad shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “No fooling around.”

“Frank—” my mom warns with a groan.

“I’m serious, Nancy. If that boy is gonna take our Ivy away and not even let her call home, we have the right to sic the LAPD on his ass.” He stomps his foot, causing Shep to howl. “See? Even the dog thinks I’m right.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, dear. Now c’mon, Eric. Let’s go upstairs and get that ring and think some happy thoughts for a change.” She shoots my dad that look she always gives him when he’s gone too far, and he instantly falls silent. “There, that’s better. I thought he’d never shut up.” She giggles, and I just shake my head as we start to climb the stairs. My dad means well, but sometimes he overdoes it. I don’t think there’s any need to file a missing person’s report on Ivy—not yet at least.