Chapter 16
Our first date after death was awkward.
Beautifully awkward.
I wore the wrong jacket.
Amelia laughed at me.
We went to a small restaurant near the harbor.
No security hovering.
No family.
No medical staff.
Just us.
For ten minutes, we talked about Lily’s spelling test.
Then we sat in silence.
Amelia touched the water glass.
“Do you ever hate me for surviving somewhere you couldn’t reach?”
The question stunned me.
“No.”
“Sometimes I hate you for not reaching.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
“I don’t want to.”
“You’re allowed.”
Her eyes filled.
“I loved you through a wall.”
“I loved a grave with your name on it.”
Neither pain outranked the other.
That realization saved us from turning grief into a contest.
Slowly, we dated.
Walks.
Coffee.
Bad movies Lily chose and pretended were for us.
Then one night, Amelia took off the ring she had kept on a chain around her neck.
“Our old marriage was stolen,” she said.
I could not speak.
“I want a new promise. Not because the first failed. Because it was interrupted.”
I took her hands.
“What do you want?”
“Truth. No locked rooms. No letting powerful people explain away fear.”
“Yes.”
“And pancakes that improve.”
“I cannot promise miracles.”
She laughed.
That was yes enough.
We renewed our vows in the vineyard kitchen with Lily officiating.
She wore pajamas.
Grace witnessed.
Detective Harris brought flowers.
Amelia said, “I choose you awake.”
I said, “I choose you in truth.”
Lily announced, “Now kiss but not gross.”
We obeyed.
The next morning, Amelia moved her things into my room.
Slowly.
By choice.
May you like
The door stayed open until she was ready to close it herself.
That mattered more than any vow.
