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needing time alone. Even though Sharon’s death was
inevitable, Alex knew a life without Sharon would seem
inconceivable to Eve. The first night they’d met, Eve had glowed
with pride when she talked about her larger-than-life aunt. Sharon
was her idol, and he could imagine how Eve felt now that she was
gone. Alex had felt the same way when his father died. His
determination to honor the old man’s memory had prompted him to
work so hard, to the exclusion of everything, including his
marriage. He knew that wasn’t what his father would have wanted.
His father had loved his family above all else, and he loved Eve.
He often told Alex she was the best thing that ever happened to
him.
    “I’ll leave if
that’s what you want… on one condition.” He knew he was asking a
lot, but he felt—given everything they’d once meant to each
other—he wasn’t out of line. “Let me come back in a couple of
weeks. Take some time to grieve for Sharon, try to put our
relationship out of your mind if you feel that’s what you need to
do, but let me come back. Maybe once you’ve had a chance to process
everything, you’ll feel differently.”
    “I don’t think
I will,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that I’ve fallen out
of love with you. I haven’t. It’s just that your life is there, and
I think mine is here. I feel at home here, at peace. I know you may
not be able to understand that, and I don’t know how else to
explain it except to say my home isn’t with you anymore.” She
leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. I
don’t want to hurt you. I just want to find a way to be happy
again, Alex.”
    If he thought
he was the only thing standing between her and happiness, he would
let her go, but he believed he could make her happy again. “I still
want to come back in a couple of weeks. Tell me you’re okay with
that.”
    “I don’t think
it’s going to change anything.”
    “Maybe it will,
maybe it won’t. Only time will tell.” He knew during the next two
weeks, he would be praying for a miracle harder than he had ever
prayed for anything.

Chapter
Four
    Eve couldn’t quash her
apprehension as she sat in her aunt’s study waiting for Sharon’s
long-time friend and attorney, Morris Richards. He’d called that
morning to offer his condolences and explain that he’d been out of
town visiting family and just learned of Sharon’s passing. He asked
to meet with Eve as soon as possible because Sharon had given him
strict instructions to carry out to the letter.
    Eve smiled as
she imagined her aunt giving that directive to the crotchety old
lawyer. Sharon was sweet and compassionate, but she brooked no
argument when she’d made up her mind about something. Eve was
certain Morris saw that side of his friend when he advised her
against taking an action she’d already decided upon. Sharon lived
life according to her rules without giving a rip what anyone
thought about her, and Eve admired her even more as she struggled
to find her own identity again.
    A soft knock on
the door had Eve sitting up straighter in the striped wingback by
the stone fireplace. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, cleared
her throat, and called out, “Come in.”
    Morris poked
his head in the door, his shock of white hair as unruly as ever.
The attorney always looked like an unmade bed with his dated,
rumpled suits and his silver-framed glasses sliding down his
bulbous nose, but Sharon insisted he was as sharp as they came.
More importantly, she trusted him implicitly. “Myra let me in.” He
gripped his scarred black briefcase tightly.
    Eve noticed he
was carrying a corrugated tube in his free hand. Before she could
imagine what it contained, she decided to face her fears. “What do
you have there?”
    “We’ll get to
that,” he said, setting the briefcase and tube on the antique table
where Sharon often enjoyed her afternoon tea. He held out his hands
to Eve and she stood, accepting them with a