She put her hand up to her chest. ‘I lost an ex—who wasn’t worth much—then I lost my sister. Part of me thinks I must have deserved all this. Building the pieces of my heart back together has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I don’t know if I can put myself in a position where I might have to do that again. Trying to convince myself that I’m worthy of a second chance is hard.’

  He gave a solemn nod. ‘And us?’

  She gave a gentle smile, reached up and touched the side of his cheek. ‘We just got caught in the crossfire. My sister gave me a bucket list to teach me to live again. I got the pleasure of doing that with you.’

  He caught her hand in his, holding it next to his cheek. ‘I love you, Darcy. I never expected to. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to. All I know is that, from the moment I met you, we’ve connected in a way I’ve never felt before.’

  She blinked, feeling tears brim in her eyes. ‘And I love you too, Arturo. I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve learned to dance, had a whistlestop tour of Rome. I’ve been to an incredible family wedding and picked a wonderful dog. You’ve given me the best memories possible.’

  ‘But...?’ he asked, his voice wary.

  ‘But,’ she said as some tears started to fall, ‘what if I lose you too? What if I take a chance on you, on us, and it doesn’t work out? What if I get left again, and this time I don’t have the strength to put the pieces of my heart back together?’

  He gave her the gentlest smile as he reached up and cupped her cheek. ‘We are more alike than you know.’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘When I lost my father, and my fiancée, I thought that was it. My life didn’t mean much any more. Of course I love my mother and sister, but I’ve always known that, deep down, they would survive if I wasn’t around. I never found anyone else to invest in—to take a chance on. Until I met you.’

  He smiled at her. ‘How could I have a proper relationship when I moved around all the time? I thought if I didn’t tread the same path as my father I would be letting him down.’ His brow furrowed. ‘But now I try and be reflective about it, I realise that the man I loved was actually selfish. He put my mother through heartache. He put his family at risk. I need to get over that. I need to move beyond that.’

  Something inside her twisted. ‘You said that you were changing your job. I didn’t want you to do that for me.’

  He moved his flat hand to his chest. ‘And I’m not. I’m doing it for me. I’ll still do what I love. Archaeology. I may have spells where I need to be away on digs. I’ll likely work with museums around the world. But nothing that could bring anyone harm. I needed to see the big picture. Cara’s wedding helped me do that. I’m sorry you were overwhelmed by my relatives. They love you. They want me to be happy—and they could see that I was happy—with you.’

  He moved her over to the steps, where they could both sit down. ‘But changing my job is only a tiny part of this,’ he said seriously.

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed, wondering what would come next.

  ‘It’s about you and me. Are we both ready for this? Are we both ready for a relationship? Are we ready to take a second chance—on each other?’

  He put one hand on his heart. ‘I love you. I know I love you. But I think, in different ways, both of us have been in a bubble of grief for the last few years, processing differently, and dealing with things in our own way. I want this to work. I want us to work. And I think we might stand the best chance if we maybe ask for some help.’

  She blinked as a huge lump appeared at the back of her throat. He saw her. He knew her. And he still wanted to be here.

  ‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘I didn’t expect to. But the connection? I feel it too, more than anything. And whilst I hate what you’re saying, in a way, I know it needs to be said. Our family were all offered counselling just after Laura died. My mum and dad went, but Fizz and I didn’t. I think it’s time for me to take up the offer. To learn how to move on without her, and not to feel guilty about it. And to learn how to have a relationship with my sister without feeling as though something is missing. To know that I am worthy of being happy. To learn that we can be enough on our own. And, most of all—’ she took the biggest breath ‘—to take a chance on someone else. To reach out and grab the happiness that’s right in front of me. To learn to not be afraid.’

  He leaned forward and kissed her head. ‘I don’t ever want you to be afraid, Darcy. I promise you that your heart is safe with me.’

  She mirrored his pose and put her hand up to her heart. ‘How do you feel about agreeing that while we work on it we can still be together?’

  He slid his hand into hers. ‘I can’t think of anything I want more. Your bucket list was fate, Darcy. For you, and for me. We can do this—we can do this together.’

  She tilted her mouth up towards his. ‘There’s nothing I want more.’

  He grinned and whispered in her ear, ‘Then maybe we can create our own bucket list.’

  ‘That will be negotiable,’ she agreed. And then she kissed him at the most magical fountain in the world, tossing a coin over both their shoulders, because she wanted to start the way she meant to continue.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later

  ‘READY?’ FIZZ ASKED her sister.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Darcy grinned, picking up her colourful wedding bouquet and heading to the top of the stairs.

  Although it would have been lovely to get married at Arturo’s Italian estate, the complications involved in taking Ruby with them were more than either wanted. Ruby was getting older, and neither wanted to put strain on their guest of honour at their wedding.

  Arturo, with the help of his sister, had found a beautiful Scottish castle to hire for the event and, from the sounds outside, the guests were already having a ball.

  ‘Okay?’ checked Fizz one more time.

  Darcy nodded, and picked up the skirts of her wedding dress to start down the stairs. Her relationship with her sister was so much more solid now. In the last year they’d talked every day and seen each other a dozen times.

  Her dad was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He looked totally relaxed, and she knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist checking that Arturo was already in place.

  She’d never had a single doubt about her and Arturo. They’d spent the last year doing some individual counselling, then some together. Grief was a journey. And they were walking the path together.

  As Darcy and her father stepped outside, the bright Scottish sun was high in the air. The temperature was every bit as warm in Scotland today as it was in Italy. ‘This is clearly our one week of summer,’ whispered her dad in her ear as he gave a little tug at his collar.

  The ceremony was being held in the grounds of the castle, and as she looked down the aisle she could see her gorgeous groom waiting for her. Arturo was so handsome in his wedding suit and bow tie, and her heart swelled in her chest.

  She practically wanted to skip down the aisle, but she let Fizz walk in front of her, nodding at her own beau as she went, then Darcy and her father walked down the rose-strewn aisle.

  Whilst her father nodded at their guests, Darcy only had eyes for her groom. As they reached the front he bent forward and whispered in her ear. ‘You look stunning.’

  She couldn’t stop smiling. Her dress had incorporated some Italian lace to pay homage to her new family and she’d had fun choosing it with her mum, sister, Cara and Arturo’s mother.

  They both turned to watch Ruby, with the rings tied around her neck, come towards them. Her joints had been giving her issues and she had developed a limp, but to Darcy and Arturo she just represented love. Arturo bent down, gave her a treat, a kiss on her head, and untied the rings. Ruby sat proudly at their feet.

  The celebrant started the ceremony and it passed in a blur for Darcy, as they sang some songs of celebration and exchanged rings.

  As the celebrant announced them man and wife, Arturo settled his hands on his hips. He couldn’t stop smiling. ‘Well, my Bucket List Bride,’ he said, ‘how about we seal this with a kiss?’

  Then he caught her and tipped her backwards, recreating their kiss from a year before as their guests shouted and Ruby barked in celebration.

  * * *

  Look out for the next story in The Life-Changing List duet

  A Fake Bride’s Guide to Forever

  by Kate Hardy

  And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Scarlet Wilson

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  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Fake Bride’s Guide to Forever by Kate Hardy.

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  A Fake Bride’s Guide to Forever

  by Kate Hardy

  CHAPTER ONE

  FIZZ GLANCED AT her phone for the umpteenth time. All of twelve seconds had passed since she’d last checked, even though it felt more like several minutes.

  Oliver was nearly twenty minutes late.

  It wasn’t like him: her best friend was the epitome of organised, taking everything in his stride with a smile on his face and never being late for anything. Had something awful happened? Her nerves, already taut from wondering just what her sister Laura had written in her last letter, stretched that little bit tighter.

  Then she saw the heads turning, looked in the same direction and let out the breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding as she saw him walking into the wine bar. Oliver Harrison was the archetypal tall, dark and handsome man. Add eyes as blue as a spring sky and a ready smile that reached his eyes, and it was no wonder that women turned to stare at him as he passed. He had the same kind of stage presence as a movie star or rock hero.

  He lifted a hand to acknowledge her; she mirrored the gesture, noting the disappointment on several female faces around him as they realised that he was meeting someone. Two minutes later, he slid into the booth opposite her and replaced her empty glass with a glass of chilled white wine. ‘I assumed you’d like your usual,’ he said.

  A crisp and fruity New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc: her favourite. ‘Thank you. Is everything OK, Oli?’ she asked, concerned about that look of strain in his eyes—or was she projecting her own anxieties onto him?

  ‘Just something I needed to sort out in the office that took a bit longer than I expected,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I should’ve texted you so you didn’t worry. I thought I could make the time up, but then there was a delay on the Tube.’

  Oliver’s loveliness wasn’t only in his looks: he was kind, thoughtful and paid attention. Yet more reasons why Fizz valued him so much. Her best friend was the most important person in her life outside her sisters and her parents.

  ‘I was a bit surprised you asked me to meet you tonight. I thought you’d be with your family after you’d seen the solicitor—or at least with Darcy,’ he said.

  Her oldest sister. The one who’d met the solicitor with her...and then left. Fizz lifted a shoulder with a casualness she didn’t feel. ‘Mum and Dad are in the south of France.’ Not because they’d forgotten Laura’s anniversary, but because they still couldn’t bear it. They’d gone to Provence to put distance between themselves and their home in Bath where her other sister Laura had taken her last breath. ‘And Darcy had to go back to Edinburgh. Work.’

  It was five hours between London and Edinburgh by train, and seven and a half by car: of course Darcy had needed to leave straight after their quick cocktail in the bar next door to the solicitor’s office. But Fizz had hoped that Darcy might stay a bit longer. Just long enough to open Laura’s letters to them together, rather than tackling them alone. Especially as today was the fifth anniversary of Laura’s death from leukaemia. She usually kept Laura’s anniversary as a quiet day, missing her middle sister’s sunny nature; but the day felt heavier than usual, today.

  Darcy had suggested they could text each other about the letters, instead. Fizz didn’t suggest a phone or video call because she wouldn’t want to have that kind of conversation in the corridor of a train so she wasn’t going to make Darcy do that. Faced with behaving like the needy, annoying little sister who demanded attention—and that wasn’t who she wanted to be—Fizz had forced a smile she didn’t feel and agreed that texting would be fine.

  It seemed that the distance between herself and Darcy wasn’t just physical any more; it was becoming emotional as well.

  And that really hurt.

  It was bad enough that the ‘Trouble Trio’, as their parents had always called them when they were tiny, were a duo now that Laura was gone. Did Darcy want them to become the Sad Singles? Or was she just overreacting on a day she always found difficult? Fizz didn’t really trust her judgement where Laura was concerned. Or Darcy. All she knew was that she missed her sisters.

  Both of them.

  Oliver reached across the table and squeezed her hand briefly. ‘Are you OK, Fizz?’

  ‘Yes,’ she fibbed.

  He raised both eyebrows and stared at her. She caved. Of course he knew her well enough to realise that she wasn’t OK. He’d been her best friend for seven years, since they’d met at a mutual friend’s birthday party in her first year at art school while he’d been in the first term of doing his Master’s in Arts and Cultural Management. They’d talked all night, to the point of grabbing a mug of coffee from the kitchen and going to the top of Primrose Hill to watch the sunrise together, and they’d never looked back.

  ‘No, I’m not all right,’ she admitted, and lifted her chin. ‘But I will be.’

  ‘What did the solicitor have to say?’ Oliver asked.

  Fizz drew the envelope from her bag. Even seeing Laura’s familiar handwriting looping across it made her catch her breath. Laura had even sketched a tiny champagne bottle with the cork flying out and bubbles cascading everywhere. Felicity Bennett, the youngest of the three sisters, had been known to everyone as ‘Fizz’ ever since she’d pronounced her name that way as a toddler, and turned out to have an effervescent personality to match. ‘Laura.’ The name came out as a wobble.

  ‘Take a gulp of wine, breathe, then tell me,’ he said gently.

  The wine didn’t help. Neither did breathing. But the concern in Oliver’s eyes did the trick. ‘OK. Mr Cochrane—the solicitor—gave us a letter.’ Fizz had been the one to read it aloud in the office, and the tears had slid down her face with every word. ‘Laura was worried about us. Darcy and me.’ She blinked back the tears, refusing to let them overwhelm her again. ‘She left the solicitor something to give us today if we weren’t settled...happy.’

  Of course their clear-sighted middle sister would’ve worked out what was likely to happen and planned for it.

  A few months before Laura’s death, Darcy had been jilted at the altar and fled to Edinburgh. Fizz had been torn between going with her oldest sister, who she knew was heartbroken and needed someone to help her through it, and supporting her middle sister, who she knew was dying. Darcy had made the decision for her: Laura’s next round of chemo was in two days’ time, so in Darcy’s view Laura was the one who needed the most support. Darcy had told Fizz to stay put and look after their sister.

  So Fizz had stayed in Bath, and texted Darcy regularly to check she was OK.

  Darcy had returned five days later, her head clear and knowing what she wanted to do next. And she’d stayed in Bath in the dark days when they knew Laura was dying. Fizz had rearranged a couple of her classes so she could spend long weekends at home, and she and Darcy had taken it in turns with their mum and dad to look after Laura, bringing their sister little treats to make her smile and making sure she got to see everyone she wanted to say goodbye to, in between resting.

  After Laura’s funeral, Darcy had gone back to Edinburgh. Damian had broken her trust, and since then she hadn’t dated much, if at all. She worked too hard; although her immaculate make-up could hide the shadows under her eyes, it couldn’t hide the ones in them. Fizz didn’t even know where to start dealing with those shadows. Not when Darcy refused to let her help and claimed that she was absolutely fine.

  Fizz herself had gone back to art college in London. And she hadn’t told a soul about the day after Laura’s death. She’d gone back to London briefly to see her tutors and arrange a couple of weeks of compassionate leave from her course, plus pick up her sketchbook and the project she’d been working on as part of her second-year degree assessment. That night, something had happened. She’d kept it locked away in a box ever since and buried it as deep in her heart as she could. It was the reason why she never let a relationship go past the third date, any more.

  Shame burned through her. What would Darcy say, if she knew? What would Laura have said?

  But Fizz would never tell her secret. Not to anyone. Not even Oliver, who’d been in New York when it happened.

  Oliver, who’d just asked her what the solicitor had said. If she didn’t tell him something, and fast, he’d start asking questions that she might not want to answer. ‘She left us a task. And some money.’

  ‘What type of task?’

  ‘It’s a bucket list.’ The words from the letter she’d read out loud in the solicitor’s office, holding Darcy’s hand, were practically engraved on her heart. ‘She said, “I want to push you both to maybe do something you haven’t. I want my sisters to have fun. Have fun in my memory. Know that I am right by your side when you do all these things. I love you girls.”’