Page 295 of By His Vow

But I never find her.

When I get to the end of the main street, I turn around and scan the village center with a weird sense of unease prickling my skin.

I was so sure that was her. Maybe the lack of sleep and hormones are getting to me.

Deciding that it was nothing more than me losing my mind, I tug my purse up higher on my shoulder and keep walking. I’m halfway toward Aunt Lena’s cottage already, so I may as well continue.

I’m only torturing myself by walking past it every day, but I can’t help it. Just like always, the draw I feel toward it is magnetic.

I guess I’m just craving a time when life was easier and simpler. When the only thing I had to worry about was what candy Miles and I were going to get on our daily trip to the store and what games we were going to play.

Sounds like the perfect life.

A melancholy sigh passes my lips as I turn the final corner.

Just like every other time I’ve visited, I think I’m prepared for the emotions to bubble up at the thought of never going inside again, but nothing could have prepared me for what I find.

A sold sign.

All the air rushes from my lungs as if someone just took a bat to my chest.

“No,” I cry, wrapping my arms around myself as if they’ll hold me together.

I didn’t even realize it was up for sale.

My vision blurs and tears fill my eyes before spilling free and cascading down my cheeks.

I stumble forward, sniffling like a fool.

I can’t help it.

It’s over.

I thought I was okay with him receiving the divorce papers. I thought I had made the right decision and that letting go couldn’t be any harder than walking away from Kingston last week.

But I underestimated just how painful it would be to know that he agrees with me. That he doesn’t want me.

Maybe he never did.

Maybe it was all an act.

My sobs get louder, and I stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the house that holds so many of my favorite memories as well as my dreams for the future.

But it’s over. It’s gone.

The cottage I always hoped that would one day be mine is going to belong to someone else, maybe a family.

My breathing is ragged as I try to be happy for whoever has purchased it.

One thing is for sure, they’re going to be so, so happy in that home.

By the time I get back to my rental, the sun is setting, the air is bitterly cold, and my eyes are raw from crying.

It’s just a house.

Bricks and mortar.

But it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that, it feels like so much more.