“I hope you see, too, that I do love you, and I did love you all this time, even when we were apart. And I will see you again someday, because even though your heart led you down a different road than mine, we will eventually reach the same destination.”

She knelt at the water and opened the silver box that contained her mother’s precious ashes.

Gingerly she lowered the box into the water and let it sink to the bottom. The ashes of Margaret Delores Kohl, of Sister Mary John, of Nora’s mother, rose up and spread through the water like a pale cloud.

“I love you, Momma.”

It took everything she had to say, but she said it and she said it smiling.

She unclasped the saint medal she’d worn for a week now.

“Every saint medal I own Søren gave me. Every one but this one.”

“Who is it?” Nico asked.

“Saint Monica. My mother wore it all her life. Monica, patron saint of mothers of disappointing children.”

“Is that why she wore it? She thought you were a disappointment?”

“Monica was also patron saint of women in abusive relationships.”

“You said she thought Søren abused you. Is that why she wore it?”

“No.” Nora looked Nico in the eyes. She remembered her father slapping her, shoving her, choking her. “She gave it to me before she went into the coma and told me something I never knew, but should have. Father Greg gave it to her two months after she got married. Only he knew the truth. She wore it because of my father. That’s why she’d hoped for a miscarriage. Not so she could become a nun, but so she wouldn’t have to marry my father who beat her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want me. She didn’t want him. And all this time I thought she regretted having me….”

With a shaking hand, Nora reached out over the water and let the necklace go.

But before it could break the surface of the lake, Nico caught it.

She looked at him in surprise.

“I never told you this, but you were my nightmare,” Nico said to her, clutching the medal in his fingers. “I counted ten men my mother had affairs with. Those were the ten I saw. I know there were others. I also knew I looked nothing like my father. I knew someday someone would tell me the truth, the truth I didn’t want to know. And that person was you. Even if this medal feels like a weight, don’t let it go. Your nightmare might turn into your best dream someday.”

Nico turned his hand and showed her a tarnished gold band that he wore around it.

“My father’s wedding ring,” Nico said.

He took her wrist and poured the silver chain and pendant into her palm.

“If you stood outside the circle that is Søren and me and our love for each other, you would see me sleeping with dozens of other men in the past twenty years. You would see him loving someone else, another man who Søren loves as much as he loves me. It makes no sense to anyone outside our circle. But step inside it and you’ll find nothing but love there. You don’t know what secrets your parents kept from you. You don’t know what their marriage was. If your father didn’t judge her, didn’t hate her, you shouldn’t, either.”

Nico nodded and put his arm around her. They walked away from the water, away from the ashes, away from her grief, away from her past.

“You’re leaving now,” she said once they reached the cottage. “I feel bad for keeping you up all night. It’s a long drive on little sleep.”

“I’ll be thinking of you all the way home. You’ll keep me awake.”

“Thank you for listening to me. I needed to talk last night.”

They held each other for a long time. She felt Nico’s body trembling under her hands.

“Are you laughing?” she asked him.

“Trying not to,” he said. “I’m laughing at Kingsley for giving you Sutherlin as a last name.”

“I told that ass**le if he called me Eleanor Sutherlin again I’d slap him into the next century. When I became a dominatrix and needed a new name, he pulled that out of his memory banks.”

“What did you do?” he asked, as they walked to his car.

“I slapped him into the next century.”

Nico grinned at her.

“What happened to your Wyatt? Did you keep in touch with him?”

“No,” Nora said, her smile fading. “We looked good on paper, Wyatt and I did. And Søren and I made no sense at all. But here it is, almost twenty years later and Søren and I are still together, still in love. And Wyatt …”

“What about him?”

Nora swallowed hard. “Four years after we graduated, they found him dead in his apartment in Chelsea.”

Nico’s eyes widened.

“Turns out Wyatt had bipolar disorder. Explained how he had so much energy he could talk circles around me, which takes either talent or a manic episode. A college friend of mine told me. Apparently they changed his meds and he …” She paused and tried to imagine her life had she stayed with Wyatt. Would they have married? Could she have helped him? Would she have been a widow at age twenty-six? “They published his poetry after he died. He was good.”

“Nora,” Nico said. “So much lost.”

“So much found.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Do you believe in God?”

“I’m a grape farmer. My whole life I’ve watched water turn into wine. Of course I believe in God.”