Chapter 28
Margaret died three months later.
Ethan didn't go to the funeral.
There was no funeral, really. No one came.
Vanessa sent a note. She had gone. Alone. To say goodbye.
She wrote that it had been sad. Quiet. Just her and a priest and the coffin.
She wrote that she was glad she had gone. That she had found closure.
Ethan didn't need closure.
He had already found it.
In his wife. In his children. In the life he had built.
The holidays came.
Thanksgiving was at their house.
Marcus and his wife and their two children came.
Robert and his husband came.
Daniel and his sister Rosa came.
Rosa had become the children's honorary grandmother. They adored her.
The house was full of laughter and noise and the smell of Claire's cooking.
The kids ran around, too excited to sit still.
The adults talked and laughed and drank too much wine.
After dinner, they all went around the table and said what they were thankful for.
James was thankful for books and science and his family.
William was thankful for music and acting and his new friend Tyler.
Michael was thankful for sports and his baby sister.
Olivia was thankful for her sword and her pony (they had gotten her a pony for her birthday) and her family.
Claire was thankful for second chances. For her husband. For her children. For the women whose lives they had been able to change.
Ethan was thankful for all of it.
For waking up from that coma.
For finding Claire.
For every messy, loud, perfect moment of his life.
That night, after everyone had left, after the kids had been put to bed, Ethan and Claire sat in the living room, looking at the Christmas tree.
“Another year,” Claire said.
“Another year.”
“Do you ever think about what would have happened if... if things had been different? If your mother had never... if the plane had never crashed?”
Ethan thought about it.
“Sometimes. But I try not to. Because if none of that had happened... we wouldn't have the bakery. We wouldn't have Olivia. I wouldn't be the man I am today. The man who appreciates every single moment with you and the kids.”
He took her hand.
“Pain changes you, Claire. It can break you. Or it can make you stronger. For us... it made us stronger. It made us appreciate what we have. It made us fight for what matters.”
Claire leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I love you, Ethan Parker.”
“I love you, Claire Parker.”
May you like
They sat together in the quiet, watching the Christmas tree lights twinkle, listening to the faint sound of their children breathing down the hall.
Life was good.
