The dream starts out the same. I'm climbing trees with my cousins, there is one for each of us in my grandmother's backyard. It's a perfect summer day, and I feel warm and happy. When I look around, I see jewels: glowing emerald leaves against a sapphire sky. In the distance, diamonds sparkle and dance on the ocean waves.

I'm climbing higher and higher, until finally I reach the top. Excitement sours in my belly.

My father is sitting on the highest branch. I'm confused, why is he there? He turns his head to me slowly. Something is wrong. He's talking to me, but I can't make him out. His eyes have no expression. When I reach for him, he jumps. And I fall.

Lucy couldn't get warm. She adjusted the spray of the shower to make it as hot as she could bear, trying to shake off the horrible feelings from the dream — sadness, fear and horror.

Even after a year, her father's death still shocked her to the core. Sometimes in the very early morning when she first woke, there were a few blissful moments when she forgot all that had happened. Then it all came crashing back.

Her father had wanted to end his life so badly, and nearly did — right in front of her. Facing serious charges for arson and insurance fraud, Dad was doing well during his court-mandated mental health assessment, to everyone's surprise. Just when it seemed he was starting to crawl out of the grip of unrelenting depression, he suffered a heart attack.

Lucy and her twin sister Faye had been through some hard knocks before but losing their father in such a cruel and sudden way was shattering. Faye seemed to be coping well, just like she coped with everything. Lucy wasn't. She had a quiet fear that she would never really be able to fully recover from it.

The nurses said it was a miracle he hung on as long as he did, waiting until they arrived at the hospital only to pass minutes later. After saying goodbye to Faye, he motioned for Lucy to come closer and gripped her hands with his last ounce of strength. "I never meant those things I said in the cabin, Peanut. They were all lies." His hands shook in hers.

Lucy held on to him tightly. "I know. I love you, Dad." She put her forehead against his and whispered it over and over until he closed his eyes and drifted away.

She would never forget the look on his face in those moments. She'd never seen her father so scared.

As much as she wanted to believe the grief would ease over time, the look of terror in his eyes was something she'd never get over. Her father's death changed her. And she didn't know if she'd ever be able to go back to the way she was before, when she didn't really understand how pointless and cruel life could be.

Through it all, Quinn was her rock. In the early days he never left her side, bringing her tea that went cold, and meals that she left untouched. When she didn't want to get out of bed, he moved the TV into the bedroom of the cottage so they could binge-watch dumb shows together, even when she just wanted to lie there and stare at the wall.

Day by day she got stronger, until she finally managed to scrape herself together by pushing all thoughts about her father aside and refusing to speak about him. She knew Quinn was troubled by her approach, but it was the only way for her to cope. A year later, she was slowly moving forward, like trying to run through water. She was making progress; functioning day-to-day. But the dreams wouldn't leave her alone.

Lucy tried to shake off the image of her father's anguished face as she washed her hair, tears streaming down her cheeks. Stop it, she chastised herself. Enough. She raised her face to the shower's blast. Tears were useless. What was done was done.

Wanting a nicer place for her mind to go, she looked forward to Quinn coming home. Another chef at his Michelin-starred restaurant quit suddenly, and he had to fly to New York to sort it. This was the third chef in a year, and he was tired of the upheaval. The restaurant was getting more difficult for him to manage from Nova Scotia. It used to run like clockwork when Tonya was his general manager. But when Quinn had his brush with tabloid scandal the year before, she quit along with most of his senior staff. He didn't want to admit it, but the restaurant was in freefall.

He wanted her to go with him and she was seriously tempted. New York was her very favourite city; she'd gone with him several times and it was always magic. But she was needed to help their partners close their Nova Scotia restaurant for the season.

The brewpub was thriving. The exciting new restaurant in the renovated lighthouse on Black Rock Point quickly became one of the hottest in the region, if not the country. They were booked solid for the majority of the season.

Out of the ashes of the restaurant that first brought them together, she and Quinn opened a new gastropub and craft brewery, partnering with friends Leon and Marnie. The venture had been so successful, they decided to open it from May to November only each year, capitalizing on the tourists who were drawn to Nova Scotia's beauty in its warmer months. In the winter months, they'd focus on the brewery, solidifying their brand nationally and working on wider distribution for the craft beer Leon and Quinn created. She'd also started a solo consulting business with a limited number of clients, to keep her public relations skills sharp.

Building a new business with people she cared about gave her a purpose, and she was proud of what they'd accomplished. The irony was not lost on her that the worst year of her life was also her most successful, both in business and in love.

Everything was perfect, except for the shadow her father had cast on her life. If only she could get past what happened — what he did. To her, and to himself. As hard as she tried to forget about it and move on, she was still not over it.

"You should ditch me for a fun girl," she said to Quinn the morning he left, in a weak attempt to make him laugh. He didn't find it funny at all — probably because he was so intuitive, he knew she wasn't really joking.

She had reached for him in the early morning light, waking him by softly stroking his back and neck, running her fingers through his hair in just the way he liked. Her light caress brought a spray of goosebumps across his muscled shoulders and he rolled over and kissed her so hard it took her breath away. She tried her best to show him the love she felt that she couldn't seem to express in words.

"I'm sorry I've been so down," she said afterwards, laying on her side. She loved looking into his eyes, the deepest blue she'd ever seen. "You should just find somebody else. Someone who's not so fucked up."

He nuzzled her neck with a sigh. "I don't want anybody fun," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "I want you." She couldn't help but laugh.

"You should write greeting cards," she said. "That one would be perfect for Valentine's Day."

"Enough of that," Quinn said, lifting his head to rest on his hand while he searched her eyes. "You've been through some serious trauma. You need to go easy on yourself."

Trauma. There was that word again. Between the fire, learning the full scope of her father's criminal involvement, witnessing his suicide attempt and with him passing away right in front of her, it probably was the right word to describe what had happened. But lots of people had it far worse. Everybody suffered. Why couldn't she get over it?

Quinn's mom was a psychologist and raised both of her boys to be self-aware and emotionally strong. Lucy felt completely messed up by comparison. Quinn had no trouble identifying and discussing his needs and feelings, when she was a complete and total mess — pretty much since the day they first met.

Despite that fact, he was still there. She thought he was too good to be true but that wasn't it. He was very real — she just didn't deserve him.

"Move in with me." Quinn had asked her again. She sighed in response. He continued, undaunted. "It's crowded here in the cottage with both you and Faye; you said so yourself. And there's plenty of room in the barn."

"Don't tempt me," she said, trying to deflect. "I love the barn, you know that." Quinn fell in love with it too, renting it at first and then purchasing the property outright. He surprised her with the swiftness of his decision; literally putting down roots in Port Ross — right down to the large and abundant garden he created and nurtured in his back yard. It was his pride and joy; she was amused by the fact that he loved nothing better than to give away bundles of fresh carrots or radishes to friends and family — once, even the mail carrier. He was seriously thinking of getting a dog. It was clear to her that Quinn was going nowhere, and she was thrilled. But she couldn't seem to take that next step to move their relationship to the next level.

"Then let's live together. It's been over a year, and it feels like we're still dating. I'm sick of going back and forth to each other's houses, like a couple of teenagers," he said. "I want to get ready in the morning and know where my deodorant is. I want to cook knowing all of my knives and skillets are in one place. I want to wake up every morning like this," he said, running his big, warm hand across her shoulder, and down her arm. He was so earnest and handsome; she could hardly stand it. He was everything she ever wanted, but he deserved someone better. Someone with her shit together.

"Soon," she'd said, kissing him quickly. She got out of bed before he said anything more, hating the look of disappointment in his eyes. It was the way things had to be, at least for the time being.

Lucy shut off the taps and reached for her towel. Change meant risk, and for the moment, she felt safe as long as everything stayed the same.

She thought of Quinn in New York surrounded by impossibly beautiful women and felt a pang of envy and regret for not going with him. He could have any woman in the world, so why Lucy? Her family was a bunch of criminals and she stumbled from one catastrophe to the next. And still, he wanted to be with her — not just put up with her, but actually get closer.

Another sign that she just didn't deserve him.