Page 89 of Last Wish Wedding

Kelsey felt her throat constrict. “Truman, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he cut her off gently but firmly. “You’re family now, both of you.” He paused, and a mischievous glint appeared in his tired eyes. “And I’ve left the mansion to Amy.”

“What?” both Mac and Kelsey exclaimed simultaneously.

Truman chuckled, the sound dissolving into a brief cough. “Just for the hell of it. To see what she does with it.”

“But Grandad, you always said…”

“Your grandmother’s been gone a long time now. Whatever happened there, whatever she wanted to protect by keeping it empty, it’s time for new life to fill those walls.” Truman’s expression grew more serious. “There’s a condition, though. Amy has to maintain the historical status. She can turn it into that health retreat she’s always talking about, but the structure, the façade, those stay. They’re part of the island. There’s a fund to help with the restoration.”

Kelsey shook her head in wonder. “She’ll be ecstatic. She’s been dreaming about this for years.”

“I know,” Truman said with satisfaction. “I hear her plans every time she works on my shoulders. That girl can talk.” His face softened. “But she loves this island the way my wife did. She’ll do right by the old place.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of waves and distant gulls. Truman’s eyes drifted closed and his face turned toward the sun like a flower seeking light. For a moment, he looked peaceful, almost young again.

“I’m content,” he said finally, opening his eyes to look between Mac and Kelsey. “My affairs are in order. My conscience is clear. And I know what matters most is taken care of.”

“What’s that?” Mac asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.

“You,” Truman replied simply. “Finding your way back to life, to family. For a while there, I thought you’d turned away from everything that matters. But now,” he glanced at Kelsey, “now I can go knowing you’re happy again.”

Mac’s jaw tightened with the effort of holding back tears. Kelsey reached across the space between them and rested her hand on his knee, offering silent support.

“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” Mac admitted. The words seemed torn from him.

“You can,” Truman said with absolute certainty. “And you will. You have responsibilities now, people who need you.”

Kelsey felt a tear slip down her cheek at the unguarded emotion on Mac’s face. This taciturn, private man who’d been determined to sail away from human connections was now fighting to hold on to the most important one he had.

“I think I’ve had enough sun for now,” Truman said after another quiet moment, his voice noticeably weaker. “But this was good. Very good.”

As they helped him back inside, Kelsey knew with the certainty of her medical training that Truman’s time was measured now in days, perhaps even hours. But she also knew that he had given Mac an immeasurable gift today. Permission to grieve, yes, but also permission to live fully once he was gone.

Outside, the tide continued its eternal rhythm, waves breaking against the shore in a cadence older than humanity itself.

The courtroom’s oak paneling seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. She smoothed her navy skirt for the third time, forcing her hands to remain still on her lap afterward. Beside her, Mac sat rigid in his charcoal suit, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than ever. He hadn’t slept properly in days.

“You okay?” she whispered, touching his arm lightly.

Mac’s eyes focused on her as if from a great distance. “Fine,” he said, and covered her hand with his. “Just ready for this to be over.”

Harrison leaned forward from his position at the edge of their table. “Judge Abernathy is thorough but fair. She doesn’t suffer fools or waste time with theatrics.”

Kelsey nodded, grateful for the reassurance, though her stomach remained knotted. The door at the back of the courtroom opened, and she stiffened instinctively.

Jason Prescott entered, looking nothing like the self-assured man who had threatened her in the Prescott mansion. His expensive suit hung slightly loose, as if he’d lost weight rapidly, and a sickly pallor had replaced his usual tan. Jennifer followed with a slightly bowed head and hands clasped so tightly her knuckles shone white. A third person, a sharp featured woman in a severe black suit, trailed them, carrying a leather portfolio.

“Where’s Margaret?” Kelsey whispered to Harrison.

“Apparently too ill to attend,” Harrison replied, watching the trio with calculating eyes. “That’s her personal attorney, Regina Walsh. I’ve known her for years, tough but usually reasonable.”

Mac’s jaw tightened as Jason and Jennifer took their seats at the opposite table. “He looks like hell.”

“Good,” Kelsey couldn’t help the vindictive surge of satisfaction. After what they’d tried to do to Noah, after the sleepless nights filled with worry, after the private investigator and the attempted abduction, Jason deserved whatever ruin Mac had engineered.

“All rise,” the bailiff called, and the courtroom rustled to its feet as Judge Abernathy entered. Her gray hair was cut close to her scalp, and her movements were efficient as she took her seat.