“I’m sorry.” Christian’s husky voice jolted her back into the present, and she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, embarrassed to find them wet.
“Aargh, I should be over this by now. I just wish I had a second chance with them.”
“They sound like the type of people who wouldn’t have wanted you to live with all this guilt; they worked too hard to make you happy. You dishonor them by remembering them with only regret in your heart.” His pragmatic words made her pause and consider. He was right; her grandparents had only wanted Camile and Luc to be happy. And they’d had some good times too. Maybe she should start remembering those?
“My granddad insisted I learn how to ride a bike,” she recalled with a smile. “I argued, at six years old, that a dancer didn’t need to know how to rid
