Chapter 4
He looked up.
“I failed you.”
Laurel's eyes filled again.
Lucas continued quietly.
“And I'll regret that for the rest of my life.”
Behind them, the inn's front door opened.
“Laurel?”
Matthew Dawson stood on the porch.
His smile disappeared when he saw her tears.
He walked down the steps.
“What's going on?”
Laurel couldn't answer.
Lucas stepped back.
“I'm Lucas Prescott.”
Matt's expression changed.
He knew that name.
Laurel had told him about Lucas once, late at night, when they were first dating.
She had described him as the man who taught her that love could feel like coming home.
And abandonment could feel like dying.
Matt looked from Lucas to Laurel.
Then he asked the question neither wanted to hear.
“Are you still in love with him?”
## PART 3 — THE WEDDING THAT NEVER HAPPENED
Laurel opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Matt looked at her for a long time.
Then he nodded.
That was all.
One small nod.
Somehow, it hurt worse than anger.
“Matt,” she whispered.
He stepped closer and gently took her hand.
“Don't answer because you're afraid of hurting me.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“You've been so good to me.”
“I know that, too.”
His voice was steady, but his eyes were wet.
Then he said something Laurel would remember for the rest of her life.
“But being good to someone doesn't mean they owe you forever.”
Lucas turned away.
This wasn't his moment to interrupt.
Matt looked at the letter in Laurel's hand.
“Is that from him?”
“It's from me.”
Matt frowned.
Laurel explained everything.
The funeral.
The letter.
The station.
Diana's lies.
Lucas discovering the truth five years too late.
When she finished, Matt stood silently.
Then he asked Lucas, “Did you love her?”
Lucas met his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Do you love her now?”
“Yes.”
Matt nodded slowly.
Then he looked at Laurel.
“And you?”
Laurel began crying harder.
“I don't know how to answer that without destroying you.”
Matt's face crumpled for a second.
He looked toward the ocean, gathering himself.
Then he said, “I think you just did.”
That evening, Matt came to Laurel's apartment carrying a small cardboard box.
Inside were the wedding invitations, two framed engagement photographs, and the little wooden lighthouse they had bought on their first vacation together.
Laurel sat on the sofa.
“Please don't do this.”
Matt placed the box on the coffee table.