23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ethan parked outside the memory care facility and took a steadying breath before reaching for Queenie, who was in the passenger seat.
The tiny Chihuahua yawned as he unzipped her carrier and picked her up, tucking her under his arm.
As soon as he opened the car door and stepped out, her tail started wagging like a propeller.
“You ready to see your girl?” he murmured, knowing her tail only wagged at this speed for his grandma.
Queenie gave a soft huff, as if to say finally, even though Ethan brought her to see his grandma nearly every other day. Chuckling, Ethan scratched her rounded head and grabbed his briefcase before heading for the entrance.
Inside, the staff greeted them warmly, and Ethan signed in before walking the familiar path down the hallway. Every door looked the same—soft beige, warm wood, nameplates engraved in gold—but his feet knew the way to the room that held his heart.
When he stepped through the open door, Mary Anne was in her usual armchair by the window, a blanket folded neatly over her lap. She stared out at the colorful garden beyond the glass, the summer sun catching in her silver waves. When she turned, her face lit up with joy.
“Oh, my stars,” she whispered, eyes twinkling. “Look who it is.”
“Hi, Mimi. It’s your favorite grandson, Ethan. And Queenie.” Ethan smiled. He always started with a reminder to help her place him.
“Oh, what a wonderful surprise,” she said, clasping her hands together.
Ethan set his phone and briefcase on the dresser, pulled out the leather-bound journal, and brought Queenie over.
He crouched beside his grandma and placed the dog in her lap.
Queenie, always gentle with Mary Anne, licked her hand twice before curling up on her lap, in a perfect little doughnut.
His grandma’s face lit up, and she stroked Queenie’s ears with slow, careful affection.
“That’s my girl,” Mary Anne cooed, gazing down at her. “She always comes with you, doesn’t she?”
Ethan’s throat tightened. He swallowed. “Yeah. She never lets me come alone.”
Mary Anne looked up at him with such love, it nearly knocked him over. “Has Aldean gone to get the car? He’s always forgetting where he parked.” She chuckled, brushing her hand over Queenie’s back.
Ethan smiled gently and sat in the chair that was next to hers. “Yeah, Pops is probably circling the lot.”
It was easier that way. Letting her believe. Kinder. Ethan couldn’t stand to see her hurt.
Easing back into the armchair, Ethan opened the journal—his grandfather’s—and thumbed through the soft, worn pages. “Want me to read to you for a bit?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, settling deep into the chair, hand never leaving Queenie’s fur.
Ethan picked an entry he hadn’t yet read and began.
His grandfather’s voice spilled from the pages.
It was a passage about his first dig at the jewel site.
About the necklace and the legend surrounding it.
Mimi was woven into every sentence. Her laugh, her stubbornness, her insight.
It was all there, in Pops’s careful script.
Ethan read slowly, reverently, like the words might fall apart if rushed. The whole time, his grandma smiled.
“Oh, Aldean always says I’m stubborn,” she chuckled. “Little does he know he’s worse than me.” Her words were light and full of love.
Ethan huffed a laugh, but it landed heavy in his chest. So much loss was living there.
Today, the ache was sharper. Because he also missed Paige.
He missed her laughter, her mind, her fire.
He missed the way she challenged him with everything.
The way her eyes danced when she was making a point.
How she softened when he least expected it. He missed all of her.
And his heart ached because she’d set another boundary, thrown up another wall. She’d told him not to come to her dad’s birthday dinner. She’d told him gently, but clearly, to step back, and he had. But it felt like breathing underwater. It felt like another loss.
As he paused, gaze dropping to the journal, Mary Anne’s hand came to rest on his.
“What’s wrong, my love?” she asked softly.
The question made him freeze. He looked over, ready to deflect, but her eyes were sharp and knowing—the kind of clarity that only came in rare, bright flashes now.
He steeled himself. Then, with a swallow, he let his dilemma spill out. “I think I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me back.” The words escaped like a secret.
His grandma gasped. “How could anyone not love you?”
One side of his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “You’re biased.”
She tilted her head. “How do you know?”
“How do I know what?”
“That she doesn’t love you?”
He blinked. The question gave him pause, because . . . Paige’s actions showed she cared for him. And he didn’t know how she could fake the chemistry and tenderness in her touches and her kiss. But . . .
His grandma squeezed his hand. “Don’t wait,” she whispered. “We always think there’s more time.”
He swallowed, the truth of her words cutting straight through his chest.
She patted his hand. “Tell her. Whatever you feel. All of it. Do you hear me? You won’t know her answer unless you ask.”
Ethan nodded, emotion tightening his chest, making it hard to form words. He’d spoken part of his truth to Paige, that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But he hadn’t actually asked her how she felt. Maybe he feared the answer.
Mary Anne smiled and turned her gaze back out the window. She started petting Queenie again, who was still curled contentedly in her lap.
“I have to ask her,” Ethan murmured, like he’d received marching orders he should’ve thought of himself. He stood, setting the journal on the armchair.
Across the room, his phone waited on the dresser, next to an old tabletop clock—dark walnut wood, Roman numerals, and a brass pendulum.
He stood and walked toward his phone, but as he did, the clock caught his eye and pieces of the last riddle started shouting inside his head.
And suddenly Ethan’s heart thudded, hard.
His grandfather had given that clock to his grandma on their twenty-fifth anniversary.
Ethan remembered seeing it on their mantle growing up.
Remembered the soft chime that sounded on the hour.
Just as he reached the dresser, the clock struck, and the dainty chime stilled him.
The necklace waits where time comes apart.
“Could it really be here?” he whispered to himself. With a thudding heart, he reached for the clock, slowly lifting it from the dresser. It was heavy, filled with history and time. Ethan turned it over.
On the back, there was a small latch and a barely visible seam.
Ethan’s breath caught as he gently opened it.
Inside, nestled in a shallow cavity lined with velvet, sat the necklace.
It was delicate and brilliant. He pulled it out, the ruby and diamonds catching rays of sunlight, spilling brilliance across the room.
He held the last piece of the adventure. His grandfather had hidden it here . . . with his grandma. Where love still bloomed. Where memories grew. Where love still dares to keep.
Ethan didn’t move for what felt like hours. His vision blurred. He’d gotten what he wanted. He’d solved the puzzle and found the necklace. But it had never been lost. It had always been there with them, just like the wonderful memories of his grandfather.
But one piece of the puzzle was still missing—Paige. Standing here, holding the necklace in his hands, Ethan yearned for the best part of the adventure. The part where he’d discovered a partner. And he wanted Paige there with him, sharing the joy of discovery.
Pouring the necklace back into the velvet compartment, Ethan latched it shut. He set the clock back on the dresser. The necklace was safe. It was where it should be, with his grandma. But Ethan had one more thing to do before he could bring his grandfather’s treasure hunt to a close.
Picking up his phone, Ethan itched to call Paige, but he needed to see her in person, to tell her how he felt as she stood in front of him. He froze when he saw the notifications on the screen.
Paige had made new comments in their manuscript?
She was writing? He tapped into the Google Doc and clicked through her notes.
And as he stared and scrolled, his chest cracked open wider as he read each of them.
When he got to her last comment, he stared at the message for a few beats before a trembling breath left his lungs.
A phone call or message wouldn’t do. He had to get to Paige, to talk to her in person.
Ethan had found the necklace. Now, he was going after the real treasure.