“Or the cruise line logo,” Nathan had suggested.
“Better yet, the ship’s logo intertwined with a skate. Something you could only buy here, on ship.”
Nathan had cocked his head. “That’s a good idea.” He’d glanced around her studio as if with new eyes. And she did consider it hers; she’d been here so long, she’d had a hand in designing it. The walls were jazzy and exciting, with blown-up photos of the skaters performing. Throughout the day, she changed the soundtracks, alternating between pop, classical and rock music, depending upon her mood. “This is a really appealing place you have here,” he’d said.
“Thank you.” She’d grinned at him, but Nathan hadn’t reacted other than to continue assessing her.
Then the old classic “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” had come over the speakers, and Emilie could only sigh. The yearning, crooning voice of Perry Como always put her in the Christmas spirit. Como was way before Emilie’s time, but she enjoyed this soundtrack because her Italian grandmother had adored the singer. Her grandmother had played his Christmas album over and over in Emilie’s youth.
Thinking of her grandmother, Emilie had suddenly felt very sad. And a disquieting feeling—nostalgia mingled with guilt.
Stay hopeful, Emilie, she’d chided herself. It was always important to keep hope up, both in herself and in others.
But Nathan had peered at her, as if seeing into her heart. As if needing an answer into what bothered her.
“My grandmother used to play that album,” she’d said softly. “She lived with us when I was young. When she passed away, I...” She swallowed. Let’s just skip that part. She took a deep breath. “I really miss her.”
Nathan had looked directly into her eyes. “The song makes me sad, too,” he’d said softly. “My grandfather played that album. He owned an inn in the mountains when I was a kid. I miss him.” He gave her a sad smile.
At the time, she hadn’t picked up on his mention of the inn. In fact, he’d never talked to her about it again.
Instead, after that first beginning, he’d included her in his shipboard life and routine. And more and more, with each passing day, she’d found herself looking forward to seeing Nathan Prescott. He’d let her bring his mood “up,” so he was as smiling and relaxed as she was. He’d let her infuse her enthusiasm into him so he wasn’t so stoic and serious.
In turn, he’d hung around during her practices. During all her performances. And on their days off, they’d explored islands together. They’d taken advantage of the cruise ship adventure, both on ship and in port. It had been magical. The past had fallen away. There was only the perpetual present. For almost a glorious year...
And then, on the anniversary of the first day that they’d met, he’d arranged a dinner for them at the fancy French restaurant on the ship. She’d dressed in her best formal gown and strappy sandals. Her roommate had helped her put up her hair. Like Cinderella, the members of her troupe had helped with her makeup. A borrowed shawl. A festive purse...
Nathan was going to ask her to marry him. Everyone said so.
Dinner had been lovely. A bottle of champagne had been popped open. Nathan’s eyes had been so bright. His smile was infectious. A lock of dark hair had curled over his forehead, and he’d smiled with that dimple in his cheek. She was head over heels in love with him. Not the kind of love that burned out quickly, but a love that really felt like it could last a lifetime.
He did have an engagement ring for her—a gorgeous one-carat solitaire. She had never held a more beautiful piece of jewelry. But the commitment and the happiness it symbolized was the most important thing.
And then, he’d ruined everything.
Instead of bending to one knee and expressing his undying love for her, promising to be with her always, Nathan Prescott had suddenly started talking about an inn in New Hampshire.
“I’m buying it, Emilie,” he’d said with excitement in his voice. “I’ve been waiting to tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. We can move up there as soon as your contract is finished next month.”
Her mouth had dropped open in shock. New Hampshire? An inn? Where had this come from?
But Nathan hadn’t seemed to notice her distress. “You and I can work to bring back my grandfather’s inn to what it once was. I know you’ll love it up there.”
“But I’m a show skater, Nathan,” she’d tried to explain. “I work here, out of Florida, on cruise ships. And I just got promoted.”
“Wait, what are you saying?”
“That I’m renewing my contract in a month,” she said patiently. “You know this.”
Frankly, she’d felt blindsided by this inn thing, and she was fighting tears. Just weeks ago, they’d talked about maybe finding a condo together locally. “What about us renting a place down here and me skating and you working for the cruise line? Like we discussed?”
“Emilie,” he’d said, his voice taking on a tone as if he was trying to be patient with her, “this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It just came up, and I had to act fast. It’s what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve really wanted.” He’d looked at her quizzically. “I thought I told you about my dreams for the inn.”
“No, you didn’t.” Her throat felt raw, and it was becoming difficult to speak. “Not at all.”
“But I’ve talked to you about Prescott Inn. About my grandfather. And when I was a boy.”
But beyond the basics, he hadn’t told her much about his past. Not really.
In his defense, she hadn’t opened up about her childhood, either. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d preferred to live in their never-ending cruise ship present. It had seemed happier that way.
With sadness in his eyes, he’d nodded to the ring he’d bought her, resplendent in its jewel box. “Will you come with me to New Hampshire to build a life with me? Please, Emilie.” His voice had caught. “I love you.”
She loved him, too. But no—she couldn’t move to an inn in New Hampshire. “I need to stay here, Nathan,” she’d said helplessly. “I’m an ice captain now. I have responsibilities.”
His face had clouded over. “Is that what’s important to you?” he’d said shortly, in a tone that indicated he was dismissing the importance of the role to her.
She’d suddenly been angry. He wasn’t thinking of her point of view at all. “Nathan, it is important to me.” Her voice had cracked, embarrassingly, with the emotion that she’d felt.
He’d shaken his head. “But you can skate and choreograph in New Hampshire, Em. I can’t move the inn to the cruise ship—don’t you see our problem?”
That wasn’t their problem. “It’s not the fact of the position for me, Nathan. It’s the people that I’m helping here. I’m important to them.”
“On the cruise ship?” He’d outright laughed at her.
He’d shaken his head again. “Em, it’s a fantasy life out here on the ocean. I mean, it’s fun for the short term, but it’s like living in Neverland. We’re not building anything of lasting value that will provide for people in the future.”
“Of course we are!” she’d said. “My team is an all-new cast. We have an all-new show to implement.” And she was responsible for them. That was crucial to her.
That he didn’t see it as she did hurt. “This isn’t a fantasy,” she said. “This is us being real. How can you feel that way about the life we’ve been living together?” She’d dug her nails into her palms, trying so hard not