Cassidy had worked his control-freak magic and found a replacement so she wouldn’t have to.

That was the benefit of working for one’s brother-in-law.

And besides, it was better this way in the long term. Oxford receptionist was never meant to be a long-term gig. The wedding planning thing, though…she could see that going all the way.

A few minutes later, Daisy and Emma each had a glass of champagne in hand, and Emma lifted hers in a toast. “To my beautiful twin. For being brave and brilliant.”

“You know you just complimented yourself too, right?” Daisy asked as they clinked glasses. “We do share a face.”

“A face yes, but not your bravery.”

“You’re brave,” Daisy protested.

Emma snorted. “I’m not. A guy broke my heart and I ran away to another state. You relocated to his own backyard. Like I said, brilliant.”

“Or stupid,” Daisy muttered as she perused the menu and debated between the avocado club or a crab pasta.

“Nope, brilliant,” Emma insisted. “The man is miserable knowing you’re so close but just out of reach, and it’s torturing him.”

“Hardly. He’s the one that said good-bye, not me. And I haven’t seen him outside my window with a boom box above his head.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s romantic. You always did love that cheesy movie. Which was that? The Breakfast Club?”

Daisy put a hand over her heart. “You wound me. Say Anything. I’m due for a rewatch. You could come.”

Emma made a gagging motion. “Pass.”

“Oh come on. I don’t know how twenty-two-year-old John Cusack didn’t steal your heart in that scene.”

“Um, no. Nothing against the actor, but any guy holding a boom box outside my bedroom at dawn is going to get a swift kick to the balls. And I don’t know how you can possibly find it romantic. You’re the least morning person I know.”

“True,” Daisy said, sipping her champagne. “It’s still romantic, though.”

“Give me Sleepless in Seattle any day.”

Daisy’s nose scrunched. “I never got that one. He runs to the top of the Empire State Building to find his son and she just happens to be there. Where’s the effort?”

Her twin held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. What are you ordering?”

“I wish I could go straight for the chocolate,” Daisy muttered.

Her sister gave her a sympathetic look. “Is it getting any better?”

“The constant ache in my chest? No.”

Emma reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And you’re sure talking to him wouldn’t help?”

“He ordered me out of his house, Emma. Moments after he contemplated wanting to pass me off as his dog walker.”

“He’s miserable, you know.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” Daisy whispered. “It’s the last thing I want. But if I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that I can’t fix Lincoln. He has to fix himself. All the way fix himself.”

“Will you be waiting for him if and when he does?” Emma asked.

Daisy took a tiny sip of champagne and thought about it. “A big part of me wants to say yes, but I think Lincoln and I are too much alike. We love fiercely, but there’s a downside to that intensity.”

“Which is?”

Daisy met her sister’s gaze. “Lincoln was too scared to take a risk on love after having his heart pulverized by Katie’s death. I think I’m too scared to take a risk on love after having my heart pulverized by Lincoln.”

“You don’t trust him not to do it again,” Emma said.

“Let’s just say my heart will always be his, but it’ll be a long-distance kind of relationship. I’m afraid taking another chance on Lincoln Mathis would destroy me.”

Chapter 33

The day was damp and cold. Perfect.

He didn’t want to be here, and yet he had to be here.

Lincoln stared down at the lavish bouquet of rainbow roses in his hand before very slowly bending at the knees and resting them on the gravestone.

Katie had always loved the classiness of roses, but her preferred color had changed with almost every Valentine’s Day and anniversary. Red one year, pink the next, yellow the year after that. Today he’d gotten her a little bit of everything.

“Hey Katie,” he said, dropping his head down and staring at his hands clasped between his legs as he crouched in front of his dead fiancée’s grave.

Her body’d been cremated, but her family had decided after the fact that they wanted a place to come visit her. Truth be told, he hadn’t been thrilled about the idea. Katie would have wanted to be free.

But she was free.

This place, this stone was for those she left behind. A place to talk to her when they needed to.

And today, he needed to.

It had taken him a while to figure it out, but it had hit him yesterday. Everyone kept insisting that in order to heal, he’d need to talk to someone, but it had never felt quite right.

And then he’d realized.

The real person he needed to talk to wasn’t a friend, or a therapist, or even Daisy.

He needed to talk to Katie. Not just think about her, as he had in Costa Rica.

Talk to her.

“I wonder where you are right now,” he said, looking up at the name carved into the stone, at the too-short life span. “But wherever it is, I hope it’s happy and beautiful and has lots of the string cheese you used to eat by the dozen.”