Chapter 30
Thirty
I was never ready for you to leave.
—Nettie’s secret thoughts
Nettie
I was on a high.
We’d won my first game back.
The team was becoming a unit.
I was married to the love of my life.
I had a baby girl who lit up my world.
A job that I loved.
My parents were out of my life.
Gail was dead.
Felicia had moved to California with her mother.
Literally, I couldn’t ask for anything more.
So it only made sense that life knocked me on my ass later that night when I went to check on Margery.
She’d become a staple in our home.
She’d spent the last half a year with us, offering her wisdom and insight. Telling us her life stories and letting Margie get to know her great-grandmother.
So, as I walked into her room with our regular nightcap of hot chocolate and cookies, I was on cloud nine.
But as I got there, Margery’s laser hearing didn’t have her turning her head my way.
I set everything down on the table that separated the two chairs and said, “Margery?”
Margery didn’t look up, and I knew.
I knew that she’d passed without going any closer.
“Boone,” I called shakily.
He entered with Margie asleep on his shoulder, his frown already in place at the sound of my voice.
“What is…” He trailed off as he looked at his grandmother.
His face fell.
We both knew.
“Shit,” he said. “Let me go put her down.”
As he did, I took a seat on the bed and gazed at the woman who’d given me everything in life.
If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have Boone.
I wouldn’t have Margie.
I wouldn’t have Sawyer, Sorcha, and Denver.
Denver’s kids.
I wouldn’t have any of them, and Eddy and I would’ve definitely been in different places in our lives.
Without the support of the Windsor matriarch, where would we be?
Boone came back into the room, dropped down to one knee, and cupped his gram’s face.
There was a soft smile there, as if she was peaceful and happy when she’d gone.
“Fuck.”
I wrapped my arms around Boone’s shoulders from behind and kissed his neck.
“I’m sorry, Boone.”
He made a soft, broken sound in his throat. “She went a hell of a lot longer than I could’ve without you.”
Margery told us once that her Sol was the love of her life, and she dreamed about being with him again one day.
But Boone was right.
How long could I live without him here?
Just the thought of a world without him in it was debilitating.
“She’s back in his arms, Boone,” I whispered. “Right where she’s wanted to be since he left her here.”
He squeezed my arm. “Fuckin’ sucks, though.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It does.”
Six days later, we buried Gram beneath the weeping willow behind her old cottage next to her husband.
It was the most beautiful, sunny day we’d had in a while.
Margie giggled and screamed happily throughout the entire service.
The Windsor family was silent.
My heart was still broken.
But I knew it would heal.
With Boone at my side, anything was possible.
And as a pair of white doves landed on the headstone of Sol Windsor, I knew that they were once again together.
A sign that she was finally where she was always meant to be.