Epilogue
Vivian sat in the team box, watching as her brother and his teammates skated onto the ice, ready to begin yet another season.
It was opening night—and fortunately a Friday, which meant Vivian could be the cool mom, allowing Pip to attend tonight’s game with the promise they could stay until the end.
It would be a miracle if they made it past the second period before Pip got tired and wanted to go home, but at least for now, Vivian was, according to Pip, the “best mommy ever!”
She and Belle exchanged a glance when Victor paused in the midst of his warm-up, his gaze lifting to the box to find them.
Or more correctly, Belle.
It was hard for Vivian to believe she’d only been home a few weeks, because it felt as if everything—literally, everything—had changed.
Her sweet, amazing, bright little daughter was a kindergartener.
She was in school. If Vivian let herself think about that too hard, she’d probably start crying…
again. She had shed big tears on the first day, she and Belle waving to Pip, who had looked so grown-up with her backpack slung over her shoulders, chatting with some other little girl as they walked into the building together.
Neither she nor Belle had made it a full block from the school before the waterworks began, both of them quietly crying.
Or at least, trying to cry quietly. In the end, Vivian had pulled into a gas station parking lot as Belle pulled out tissues and they gave in to the sobs.
They hugged each other, their tears mingling with laughter as they realized how ridiculous they looked.
It had gotten easier since that first day, as they fell into their daily routine.
But only just barely.
In addition to Pip moving on, Belle and Victor had, too, living together, and so in love it practically took Vivian’s breath away.
For the first time since Phil died, it was just her and Pip in the house. Not that it felt empty or quiet or lonely. None of those things were possible with Pip, but it did feel…different.
Watching Belle and Victor had sparked something inside Vivian that she’d thought had died with Phil.
A desire for companionship and love. She’d spent the past five years convinced that she’d had her happily ever after.
It had been brief but beautiful and wonderful, and she had consoled herself by saying that was enough.
She wasn’t sure it was anymore.
Seeing her gruff brother fall in love, seeing the beautiful ways he and Belle treated each other, was wonderful and illuminating. It shone too bright a light on just how much she was missing in her own life.
She thought about Phil, about the conversations they’d had in the weeks prior to his death.
He’d made her promise not to live the rest of her life alone, and she’d given him the vow, despite her unwavering belief at the time that she would never fall in love again, never want to be with anyone other than him.
He didn’t want this for her…this life of solitude, of zero dates, of remaining stagnant, while the rest of the world continued moving forward.
As Belle and Victor had both pointed out at different times over the last couple of years, she was still a young woman, one whose life didn’t end when her husband’s did. She’d brushed those comments aside, refusing to hear them.
Now…they wouldn’t remain silent.
Victor told her at the beginning of the summer she was allowed to want something for herself. He’d been talking about the Africa trip, about finishing her book, but that advice still lingered, still rang in her ears.
And for the first time in a long time, Vivian admitted the truth to herself.
She wanted more.