THE NEXT MORNING, HE brings me breakfast in bed, and we just talk about everything and anything. He tells me about his son, and I tell him about the kids and some events that have happened.
“Will you help me redecorate? I want any sign of Anna out of here, and I want it all to be you.”
I smile. “This is why I always felt at home at Ivy Hill on the tours.”
We spend the next few days going over plans for the décor. We are talking about the plans for the living room when he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.
“I need you to know I never touched Anna in this house. Not a kiss, not a handhold, not a hug. It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t tarnish your memory here because I see you in every room. I see the time I took you on the dining room table, or the pool table, or on th
