haven

Chapter 12 - THE HOUSE BY THE SEA

In September, I bought a small house on the coast of Maine.

Not a mansion.

Not an estate.

A weathered cedar house with blue shutters, a stone fireplace, and a porch overlooking the Atlantic.

My father had taken me to Maine when I was a child.

We used to walk along the shore collecting sea glass.

He told me the ocean could turn broken things into something beautiful.

I had always thought that was a comforting metaphor.

Now I wasn't so sure.

Broken things didn't become beautiful because they suffered.

They became beautiful when time, care, and the right conditions allowed something new to emerge.

I spent the autumn renovating the house.

I chose the paint.

Bought the furniture.

Planted lavender beside the porch.

For the first time in eight years, I made decisions without imagining whether Julian would approve.

One morning, a man knocked on my door.

He was tall, with dark hair and a weathered face.

He wore a navy sweater and carried a toolbox.

“Morning. I'm Noah Bennett.”

I blinked.

“Hello.”

“Your neighbor said you needed someone to look at the porch railing.”

I glanced at the railing.

It had been wobbling for weeks.

“Yes.”

He smiled.

“I'm a carpenter.”

I looked at the toolbox.

“That explains the accessories.”

He laughed.

I stepped aside.

“Come in.”

Noah was thirty-nine.

A widower.

A father of a twelve-year-old boy named Finn.

He owned a small restoration business and seemed entirely unimpressed by expensive things.

The first time he saw my car, he asked whether it was difficult to park.

I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my coffee.

He had no idea who Julian Hale was.

He didn't know about the scandal.

The diamond.

The board meeting.

Or the headlines.

And when I finally told him, weeks later, he listened quietly.

Then he asked:

“Do you want another cup of tea?”

I stared at him.

“That's it?”

He shrugged.

“Sounds like you've had a rough year.”

I smiled.

“Yes.”

He filled the kettle.

May you like

“Then tea seems reasonable.”

For the first time in a long time, I laughed without feeling guilty.

Related Stories

Other posts