"Sweetheart," he murmured against my hair, "they are proud of you. We all are."
I turned in his embrace and held him tight, letting the last of my self-pity tears fall against his chest.
I knew this wasn't the first time I'd made promises like this, but something felt different now. Final. Like I was truly ready to let go of the guilt that had been poisoning me from the inside out.
I would never again let anyone steal my joy. This was my life, and I was going to take charge of it.
When I'd finally cried myself empty, when the last tremor had left my shoulders, Tristan held me until my breathing steadied. Only then did he gently pull back and nod toward another part of the cemetery.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly.
I followed his gaze and saw another headstone, smaller and newer than
