“Understood.”
Ryan sent two.
“About time.”
I set the phone down and looked around my kitchen. The centerpiece I’d built. The garland I’d wound around the banister. The place cards I’d lettered in gold ink at midnight because I wanted this year to be beautiful.
None of it was for her. I understood that now. It had never been for her.
I walked to the drawer where I kept the spare keys and slid one out. The one Diane had made two years ago without asking, the one Harley had shrugged about when I found it in her purse. I’d kept it in my drawer ever since, unsure what to do with it.
Now I knew.
I placed it on top of the folded sign and pressed my palm flat over both.
I closed my laptop, exhaled, and whispered into the empty kitchen.
“One small change. That’s all it takes.”
Thanksgiving morning arrived cold and bright.
I stood at the kitchen window with a coffee cooling in my hand, watching the first pair of headlights swing into our driveway. My apron pocket felt heavier than it should have, though it only held a folded sheet of paper.
“You can do this,” I told myself.
