Five years ago, I would have stormed over there and slapped them both senseless.
But now? I simply turned and walked away.
I wouldn't make a scene at my father's grave. He deserved peace, even in death.
When Ryan returned, he was holding a Protective Talisman Pendant.
My father had gotten them blessed for us himself—one for Ryan, one for me.
I handed him the hot coffee.
"Why are your ears so red?"
"Got too cold out there." He rubbed them sheepishly. "Sorry for making you wait."
I couldn't tell if his apology was just guilt over the delay—or something else entirely.
"When you went back for it, was anyone else at the cemetery?"
His eyes darted away.
"It was freezing. The place was empty."
We drove home in silence.
I closed my eyes, pretending to rest, but caught the slight curve at the corner of his lips.
I hadn't seen that expression in five years.
Alive. Animated. Brimming with barely contained joy.
Ever since my father died, Ryan had always been so careful around me—muted, walking on eggshells.
Everyone thought we had the perfect ending. In reality, we'd turned our marriage into something politely frozen.
We pulled into the driveway and walked inside, one after the other, without a word.
"Sandra..."