struggling to find her words. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am about Nana. I couldn’t find you inside. Besides, John would’ve found a way to intercept,” he said.
That earned him a chuckle and she let her arms relax.
“You’re right about that.” She smiled softly. “Nana used to joke about how he needed a dog to help him relax but that he’d never get one because you were the only vet in town.”
“That would have to be one biddable dog. I would think your dad would love having someone around who would obey his every command.”
“Shh. He might hear you.”
She stifled a laugh and looked over her shoulder. Gray shrugged.
“It wouldn’t make him hate me any less.”
“How’s your dog? Laddie. Nana talks—talked—a lot about him,” she explained. Laddie and Mandi had never been formally introduced.
“I usually take him everywhere I go when I take my truck, but he’s at home right now watching a nature documentary. He’s the best, smartest, most patient dog I’ve ever met, but I doubt he’d have the patience for your dad. Everyone has their limits.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
He loved her laugh. Her face relaxed and her dark brown eyes softened like warmed chocolate. He was letting himself fall into dangerous territory. But he had a safety net. She’d be gone soon.
“It’s okay to laugh. Nana would want you to. She was all about celebrating life.”
Mandi nodded, but her smile disappeared and chin quivered.
“She really was. I feel guilty about not being here. For not knowing something was wrong.”
He reached over and put his hand over hers. For a fraction of a second, he thought she was going to pull away, but she didn’t.
“You can’t feel guilty. No one knew. You can’t predict when an aneurysm will give, and she never told anyone she’d been diagnosed with one a few months ago or that the doctors told her operating in her case would be risky. It’s probably the only time I’ve ever known her not to take a chance. It was her choice, Mandi.”
This time, she did pull away. She covered her face briefly, then pushed her hair back.
“But don’t you see? I used to go to her doctor appointments with her when I was here. I would have known. I could have convinced her to try surgery or something. If she had told me, I would have at least come down to be with her.”
“Maybe that’s why she didn’t tell you. She didn’t want you dropping what was important to you on her account.”
Mandi’s lips parted and she shook her head. Oh boy.
“That didn’t come out right,” he quickly added. “I mean that she knew you wanted to be out there following your dream. Maybe she didn’t want to get in the way of that.”
“I understood you perfectly. I prioritized what I wanted and left Turtleback. I left everyone behind, including you. Do you really want to go there now, Gray?”
“That’s not how I meant it. I meant that she probably couldn’t bear the thought of being hospitalized or anyone having to take care of her. Nana hated to burden anyone. She was too independent.”
“Yeah. Maybe I got that from her.”
Gray threw his palms up. This wasn’t worth it.
“Forget I said anything. I’m expected over at the clinic, so again, my condolences. If I don’t see you before you leave town, then—just drive safely and have a good life.”
He turned on his heel and headed for his motorcycle as the first drops of rain hit the ground. He wasn’t expected at work today unless there was an emergency, but as far as he was concerned, getting out of Mandi’s hair qualified as one. He didn’t care if he got drenched. He needed to get out of here. He put his helmet on and rode off without looking back, but he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that this was the last time he’d ever see her.
* * *
EIGHT HOURS SINCE Mandi had been dropped off at the cottage and she was still in a fetal position on Nana’s bed. She glanced at the time on her phone, squinting with one eye to lessen the screen’s glare, and slapped it back down on the bed. Three in the morning? She covered her eyes with her hand. Her legs didn’t want to move any more than the rest of her did. Yesterday evening, without so much as a bite of dinner, she had wrapped herself in Nana’s favorite crocheted purple shawl and curled up on her bed, dozing on and off for mere minutes at a time. At some point, she must have really fallen asleep, lulled by the faint, lingering scent of Nana’s woodsy perfume on her pillow.
She stared up at the moon shadows that stretched across the ceiling. Her grandmother’s energy still seemed to fill the room. It was both comforting and unsettling. Was Nana passing away so suddenly all Mandi’s fault? Had she brought on everything bad that had happened in her life, like losing her mother, grandma and even Gray? No regrets. That advice didn’t make sense at a time like this. She did regret not seeing her grandmother at least one last time. She regretted not being there for Nana the way Nana had always been there for her. She regretted...
Gray’s face flashed in her mind. No, she didn’t regret leaving him. She had done the right thing not marrying him. Even Nana had consoled her through the ordeal, emphasizing that a person had to find themselves and master the art of self-love and self-respect before they could ever stand tall enough to lift others off the ground. Mandi had assumed that those who needed lifting referred to people—or even animals—around her in general or maybe future children and family...but not Gray. Nana couldn’t have meant him, specifically. Gray didn’t need anyone holding him up. He exuded confidence with every step he took and had his life exactly where he wanted it to be, from his thriving practice to his work saving endangered turtle hatchlings on the beach. Grayson Zale knew exactly who he was. He simply could not bring himself to share every part of him with Mandi, and that wasn’t good enough for her. Or maybe she hadn’t been good enough for him. Whatever it was, she deserved more than to settle for a life with someone who didn’t trust or love her enough to be completely open with her. Neither of them would have been happy.
She rolled off the edge of the bed, flicked on the side lamp, gave her puffy eyes a moment to adjust, then began folding the shawl. The open, floral-patterned stitching on the bottom left corner snagged on the nightstand’s knob, pulling the loose drawer slightly askew. She freed the shawl and set it carefully where it had been, near the end of the bed, then turned to straighten the drawer.
Open it.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks and sucked in the corner of her lip. Going through all of her grandma’s drawers and belongings was inevitable. She would have to face it sooner or later, but the fact that she was actually curious about what Nana kept in her nightstand felt wrong. She had never been a snoop. She had always respected people’s privacy because she wanted the same for herself. That was probably why she’d never made enough headway with getting Gray to share more about his past with her. She wasn’t aggressive enough. Her father was aggressive and she made a point of trying not to be like him. She fingered the knobs.
“I’m sorry,
