She looked at Jeremy.
“You were.”
I looked at him.
He finally met my eyes.
“I chose you in 2004.”
I remembered that summer.
The phone calls.
The secret dates.
The way he had eventually told Lacey it was over.
I had always remembered myself as the woman who stole him.
Maybe I had been wrong.
Maybe I had been young and selfish.
But maybe he had chosen me too.
That didn’t excuse what came afterward.
I folded the will.
“I still can’t forgive you.”
Jeremy nodded.
“I don’t expect you to.”
“Not today.”
“I know.”
“Maybe not tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t know if I can stay married to you.”
His face crumpled.
“I know.”
That answer hurt more than an argument would have.
Because there was no fight left in him.
Only exhaustion.
Lacey watched us.
Then she whispered,
“Can you do one thing for me?”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Stay until he comes back.”
“Comes back from where?”
She smiled.
“The chapel.”
I frowned.
“What chapel?”
Jeremy looked at me.
“Lacey’s doctor told us she may have only days.”
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
“She knew?”
He nodded.
“She wanted one last ceremony.”
I looked at Lacey.
“What kind?”
She smiled.
“A goodbye.”
I didn’t understand.
Then she said,
“I want you there.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Why?”
“Because I want to leave knowing the two of you aren’t destroying each other because of me.”
I couldn’t answer.
Lacey reached for my hand.
I hesitated.
Then I took it.
Her fingers were cold.
So thin.
So fragile.
She squeezed my hand.
“I was angry with you for twenty-two years.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t think I am anymore.”
I squeezed her hand back.
“I was angry with you too.”
“I know.”
“And I’m sorry.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“So am I.”
We sat like that for a long time.
Three people.
Three lives.
One terrible secret.
One hospital room.
And more history than any of us could explain in a single afternoon.
Two days later, Lacey asked to leave the hospital.
The doctors said she wasn’t strong enough.
She said she didn’t care.
Jeremy arranged for a private medical transport service.
I went with them.
We drove to a small chapel outside Nashville.
It wasn’t fancy.
White walls.
Wooden benches.
A little cross above the altar.
Sunlight came through the stained-glass windows.
Lacey sat in a wheelchair.
Jeremy stood beside her.
I sat in the front row.
A pastor came forward.
He looked at the three of us.
He didn’t ask questions.
He simply began.
Lacey had one request.
She wanted Jeremy to remove his wedding ring.
He did.
Then she removed hers.
She placed both rings in his hand.
Then she looked at me.
“Jill.”
I stood.
She held out her hand.
I walked toward her.
She put the two rings into my palm.
“I don’t want to die holding something that belongs to someone else.”
I shook my head.
“This belongs to you.”
She smiled.
“Not anymore.”
She turned to Jeremy.
“Promise me something.”
He nodded.
“Anything.”
“Go home.”
He began crying.
She continued.
“Not tomorrow.”
She looked at me.
“Today.”
I felt tears roll down my face.
“Take care of her.”
Jeremy looked at me.
“I will.”
Lacey looked at me.
“And you.”
I swallowed.
“What?”
“Don’t spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for being twenty years old.”
That sentence broke something inside me.
I had carried that guilt for twenty-two years.
I thought I had to pay for it forever.
Lacey squeezed my hand.
“You were young.”
“I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“But you didn’t destroy my life.”
I cried openly now.
“Who did?”
She looked at Jeremy.
He bowed his head.
“No one.”
She smiled.
“Life did.”
The pastor finished the prayer.
Lacey closed her eyes.
For the first time, she looked peaceful.
She died four days later.
Jeremy was beside her.
I was there too.
She didn’t wake up.
She simply took one slow breath.
Then another.
Then nothing.
Jeremy held her hand.
I stood on the other side of the bed.
For a long time, neither of us moved.
Then Jeremy whispered,
“Goodbye, Lace.”
I put my hand over hers.
“Goodbye.”
And somehow, in that moment, I wasn’t saying goodbye to the woman who had been my rival.
I was saying goodbye to a woman who had carried a story I never knew.
A woman who had loved the same man.
A woman who had forgiven me before I had learned how to forgive myself.
The funeral was small.
Lacey had requested it.
No flowers from people who barely knew her.
No expensive arrangements.
Just family.
Jeremy gave the eulogy.
His voice shook.
He talked about Nashville.
About their childhood.
About the years they had lost.
Then he talked about me.
He looked directly at me from the podium.
“Lacey taught me something I should have learned a long time ago.”
He paused.
“Love isn’t an excuse to lie.”
The room was silent.
“She asked me to marry her because she was afraid to die alone.”
He swallowed.
“But in trying to protect one person, I hurt another.”
His eyes found mine.
“My wife.”
I cried.
Not because everything was fixed.
It wasn’t.
But because, for the first time, he had told the truth in front of everyone.
Three months passed.
I didn’t leave Jeremy.
Not immediately.
But I didn’t pretend everything was normal either.
We started counseling.
We separated our finances.
I told him I needed complete access to everything.
He agreed.
