I watch as his gaze follows Beatrice. Her wine-colored hair and green eyes walks past us, and Eddy looks as if he’s in a daze.

“Eddy,” I say, nudging him, “we have to get back to the farm before my father—“

“Oh shush,” he bites back. “I’m going to go talk to Beatrice. You go back.”

“But…” my words die on my lips as Eddy stalks off, chasing Beatrice with a smirk.

I pretend to not look jealous, but inside my heart rages.

But why?

Because of some stupid promise Eddy and I made when we were kids?

We both promised to live in my farmhouse when we turned 21. But how foolish we were as kids.

I walk back to the farm and see my father sitting on the porch.

“Is that you, Delia?” He asks, his blind eyes searching for me.

I rush up to him, putting my hand over his. “It’s me, dad, I’m home.”

His illness was getting worse each day. But today it wasn’t so bad. He knew who I was.

“Leave me out here as you prepare dinner. I want to feel the glow of the sun on my skin,” my father says.

I smile.

Father and I eat as I wait for Eddy to return. He’s suppose to help me with the horses.

“I’m sorry,” my father suddenly blurts.

“What?” I say, clutching his cold hands.

“I’m sorry I won’t get to see your wedding, my flower.” Small tears fall down his face.

I shake my head. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Promise you’ll take care of the farm,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“I promise,” I say.

After I put Father to sleep, I step outside in the darkness of night, wondering where Eddy is.

Could he still be with Beatrice?

Finally, I stop waiting and take care of the horses myself.

I don’t sleep with the constant worry of Eddy and Father.

The morning birds are quiet when I get out of bed.

I stumble down to the kitchen to see Eddy drinking coffee. He was here early.

“Where were you last night?” I ask, trying to hide my anger.

“Beatrice invited me over for dinner.”

“Hmm.”

I walk over to my father’s room. He’s still sleeping?

I touch his shoulder. It’s deadly cold.

I shake him. “Father…” I shout. “Father!”

Eddy runs in at my yelling, his face pale.

I reach for a pulse, but hear nothing.

“No no no no,” I cry.

Eddy runs to get a doctor, but I know it’s too late.

Father is dead.

Days pass and I’m standing at Father’s grave, clutching violets.

Eddy stands by me, his hand on my shoulder.

“I made him and you a promise,” he started. “I’m sorry, Delia, I really am.”

“What are you saying?”

“I never liked Beatrice, I was just angry you’d never brought up our promise we made.”

I shake my head. “I would’ve but…”

“I know.” He smiles softly. “But I made an even bigger promise with your father.”

I lay the violets by Father’s grave and follow Eddy.

In front of the rushing river, he gets down on one knee and asks, “Delia Barry, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I say without hesitation.

The pain of Father’s absence would always be in my heart, but with Eddy, it wouldn’t be so harsh.

Weeks later, Eddy and I sit on the porch of our farmhouse, watching the ducks waddle and the butterflies flutter.

I lay my head on his chest.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you,” he responds.