Dad, I’d really prefer if Bernard didn’t join us tonight. I’ve invited Olivia and Fred, and they’re bringing appetizers. Turns out they’re curling fans, too. I’d rather it just be family,” Opal said.

She’d spent the night with Olivia and Fred, and try as they might, she just wasn’t willing to give Bernard another chance. He’d had a lot of them, and wasn’t even remotely trying to meet her half way. And she couldn’t bear silence.

“Maybe he’s just having a hard time finding words,” Fred had said earlier at breakfast. “Some men don’t ever learn how to talk about feelings. I’m not sure I would have without my mom always encouraging me.”

Opal’s heart had tugged a bit at that, but she maintained her resolve. He’d had more than enough chances, and she’d really tried. It broke her heart, and she’d cried all the way home from Riston again, but now she was doing her best to hold it together. She missed him already, and curling wouldn’t be the same without him, but she just couldn’t bear the thought of being around him when they couldn’t be a couple.

“Opal, don’t you think maybe you’re being too hard on the guy?” her father said as he looked away and basted the chicken he had baking in the oven.

“Not you, too, Dad,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Family’s supposed to be on my side.”

Allen closed the oven and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at his daughter.

“I am now and always will be on your side, daughter. You just don’t always realize it, apparently.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, and she headed back into her room to finish getting dressed.

She’d been flooded with emotions lately, and she leaned closer to the mirror. She thought she actually saw dark circles under her eyes, and she stood up and ran a brush through her hair, hoping that her heart wouldn’t be so tender forever. But from the other room, she heard the Olympic theme on a commercial, and her heart ached all over again.

She pulled on her boots and straightened her sweater just as the doorbell rang. She looked forward to Fred and Olivia coming over—she could use the distraction and she wasn’t sure that curling was going to be enough.

“Can you get that, Opal?” her father asked, his head bent over the oven again as he slid in a pan of scalloped potatoes. She smiled at what a good cook he’d become since—well, she didn’t want to think about why. She was just glad it had happened.

Olivia and Fred smiled as she opened the door wide to let them in. Fred came in first and Olivia followed. Opal was just about to close the door when she looked back and saw Bernard standing on the mat, a big bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Opal looked back toward her sister and brother-in-law, who were studiously not looking in her direction and talking quickly and animatedly to their father, who was showing off the chicken in the oven as if nothing was awry.

She’d have to deal with them later, but now she needed to figure out how to get Bernard to go away.

Pushing the door closed a bit so that just her head poked out, she said, “Bernard, I think it’s really best if you don’t join us tonight. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

Her eyes met his and he held her gaze. She saw a little flicker of something in his eyes, and it seemed to give him more resolve. He leaned forward, the flowers still between them.

“Opal, please, can I just talk to you just for a little bit? I promise, if you don’t like what I say I’ll go away and never come back.”

His eyes looked so hopeful that she didn’t have the heart to say no.

She sighed and opened the door, turning toward the living room where each member of her family quickly turned away, pretending that they hadn’t been listening. Boy, were they going to have a word later.

Not wanting to make this any more public than it already was, Opal said, “Bernard and I are going for a walk.”

Fred, Olivia and Allen all said almost at the same time, “Great. Good. Have fun,” and Opal would have laughed if she hadn’t been so sad—it was truly comical.

She’d opened the door and Bernard reached for her coat and helped her into it. Olivia reached for the flowers and smiled at Bernard.

“These are lovely, Bernard. How thoughtful. And sweet. And...”

“All right, all right, we’re leaving,” Opal said before they could make any bigger fools of themselves.

Bernard closed the door behind him, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Opal asked as they walked toward the dock. The weather had been warming up and she hadn’t even grabbed gloves or a hat. The full moon sparkled on the lake as they sat down on the nearest bench.

“What did you want to talk about, Bernard?” she asked as turned to look at her.

“Opal, I’ve had time to think about this. A lot of time, actually, as I can’t concentrate on anything else. If you’re still interested, I’d like to answer your question.”

Opal held her breath. If she said yes, would her heart be crushed just one more time? Fred’s words rang in her ears—maybe he just didn’t know how and needed some practice.

She exhaled and turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and she wanted more than anything to get inside, to know more, to see the real Bernard. All of him—good and bad.

“Yes, Bernard, I am definitely still interested,” she said, hoping that her decision was a good one.

He smiled, and the relief she saw in his eyes answered her question. She reached for his hand as he began to speak, and he talked for almost an hour, although it seemed like minutes to her.

He began with his memories of his father before he died, and how his mother had changed after his father had passed. He described his summers in France, and his time at boarding school, and how lonely he’d been.

Her heart ached for him as he spoke, and several times, she heard herself say, “Oh, no,” not able to imagine how lost he must have felt.

Several times she laughed along with him as he described funny things that had happened in France, and her eyes misted as he spoke of his grandparents. He really loved them—and she could tell he loved his mother, too, underneath all that pain.

“Bernard, I really had no idea. I’m sorry I pressed you so hard. It must have taken a great deal of courage to come and tell me all that now.”

Bernard smiled and reached for her hand. “I had someone who helped a great deal. He said I had nothing to be afraid of, and that I’d feel lighter when I talked about it—and he was right.”

Opal wondered who that might have been, but sent whoever it was a silent thank you. Something had changed in Bernard, and it had brought him back to her.

“Talking about things is always better than not, in my experience. But why did you change your mind about telling me, in particular?”

“I...well, I realized...” Bernard started, and she leaned forward, her palm on his cheek.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said softly.

“Oh, but I do. I have to and I want to.”

“Why?” she whispered.

He reached up for her hand and kissed her palm. “I’ve also had time to realize that I love you, Opal. And I love who I am—who I’m becoming—when I’m with you.”

He cleared his throat and looked at his boots. “I don’t imagine you could love someone like me, but I’m learning. I’m trying.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. How could he possibly think that?

“Shhh,” she said as she touched his lips with her fingertip. “Don’t ever say that. I can, and do, love not only someone like you but you. I love you, Bernard. Thank you for telling me all of that.”

“Thank you for listening, and giving me another chance,” he said before he leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft and warm.

She closed her eyes and let her heart feel the warmth of his love, too.

He jumped when his phone rang—that familiar ring tone that they both knew was his mother. He took the phone out of his pocket and looked at her. His eyes were filled with something new, something she didn’t quite recognize but hope she’d see more of.

She smiled and nodded, and he closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing her hand for strength as he clicked on the green button and said, “Hi, Mom.”