Chapter 562

Olivia

The air coming through the open windows smelled like the fresh sea breeze as we made our way from room to room, touring every nook and cranny of the newly completed cottage. It was perfect—cozy and quaint, while still boasting all the modern amenities one could want. But more than that, it was a sanctuary, a haven.

A fresh start.

Trailing slightly behind Nathan and my mother, I couldn’t help but soak in the look of sheer wonder on Clarissa’s face as she took it all in. This was her space now, her private retreat just a stone’s throw from the main house, close enough to never feel cut off from her rediscovered family and yet still affording a sense of independence.

She deserved it. And after everything she had been through, all I could hope for was her happiness.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, pausing in the archway that led to the small but airy kitchen. Her fingers traced along the granite countertops as tears glistened in her eyes. “All of it... I can’t even begin to find the words.”

Nathan slipped his free arm around her shoulders, the other holding Elliot, and gave her a squeeze. “You don’t need to. This is your home now, Giselle—”

She flinched almost imperceptibly at the use of her birth name, and he quickly backtracked. “Sorry, force of habit. Clarissa. This sanctuary is all yours, to make of it what you will.”

Her eyes shimmered with tears as she turned to wrap him in a grateful hug. “Thank you, you two. Truly, I…” She trailed off then, seemingly unable to find the right words. When she finally pulled away from the hug, she reached up to wipe at the tears on her cheeks with a chuckle. “Look at me, getting all misty-eyed over a silly little house by the sea.”

“It’s not just a house,” I insisted, joining them in the kitchen and adjusting Aurora on my hip. “It’s a fresh start. For you, and for all of us.”

She nodded, sniffling softly, but the only tears there were ones of joy. For so long, the concepts of home and family had been torn from her brutally, the memories kept just out of reach by that insidious wall of amnesia.

But now, finally, she had the opportunity to start reclaiming both, one tiny step at a time.

As if on cue, the sudden sound of high-pitched giggles and delighted babbling filtered in from outside, breaking the solemn quietness of our little reunion. Nathan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Sounds like the rest of the guests have arrived,” he said with a grin.

Sure enough, when we emerged from the cottage onto the spacious patio that overlooked the beach, we were met with a whirlwind of voices and activity. Everyone was here: Clint and Dianna, Levi and Angela, Layla and her family.

Before I knew it, the gathering had turned into an organized, happy sort of chaos. The little cottage became filled with the sound of voices, with housewarming gifts and the scent of homemade food. It was mildly chilly out, so a fire was started in the fire pit on the patio. Drinks were served, glasses clinked, toasts were made, and hors d’oeuvres were shared.

Soon, we all gathered around the long table in the dining room—I had insisted on having a long, custom oak table made for my mother with long benches on either side and ornate chairs on each end so that we could have family dinners like this—and we all shared stories, homemade food, and more drinks.

Through it all, I would occasionally glance over at Clarissa to check on her. She was somewhat quiet, but her smile and tears of joy said it all; this was meant to be.

My mother had returned, even if a part of her was missing, and soon we would fill those spaces in her memory with stories of the past as well as new memories, like the ones we created tonight.

Eventually, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the twins and Layla’s little boy were put down for naps and the rest of us settled in for a few rounds of cards, nursing more glasses of wine or beer and picking at the last remnants of dessert. A fire was started in the fireplace, filling the cottage with a warm golden glow.

But as we played and chatted, out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but notice the way that Nathan’s gaze would occasionally drift toward Clarissa, that pensive furrow in his brow deepening each time.

Something was weighing on him again, that much was clear.

But for now, at least, he seemed to be keeping it to himself. I considered asking him about it when we passed by each other in the kitchen to refill the chip bowl and get more drinks for everyone, but when he leaned down to kiss my cheek and offered me a warm smile, I decided that it was better to leave it alone for tonight.

As I watched him return to the table, his arms laden with snacks and drinks, I decided I needed a breath of fresh air. Quietly, so as not to disturb the others, I slipped out the back door and into the small garden behind the cottage.

I stood there for a moment on the porch, just enjoying the sensation of the cool ocean breeze against my hot cheeks. I had been pregnant for so long with such a small break in between the two pregnancies that I had become unaccustomed to the effects of alcohol, and so I was already quite tipsy just from a couple glasses of wine.

Finally, with a sigh, I stepped down off the porch and crossed the garden to the small swing bench by the back.

The garden was mostly empty, with a few planter boxes waiting for Clarissa to nourish—she had mentioned an interest in gardening, so I had figured it would be nice for her to have something of her own to start up.

Surrounding the garden were tall hedges, giving the space a modest sense of privacy. And hung overhead, wound throughout the trellis that covered the entire space, were fairy lights.

I couldn’t help but smile a bit as I settled onto the cool bench and swung casually back and forth. There, through the back window, I could see the others—they were still sitting around the table, their quiet conversation and laughter emanating through the screen door.

I saw Clarissa amongst them, leaning close to Dianna and showing each other their cards. The two women had taken to each other almost immediately, and I was glad for her to have a friend.

But I didn’t see Nathan at the table. I furrowed my brow, leaning over to see if he was just hidden behind the wall. That was when the screen door suddenly snapped open and caused me to jump.

“Nathan,” I breathed, clutching my chest as I looked up to see him striding across the garden. “You gave me a fright.”

Nathan said nothing, but I knew instantly that something was wrong. Judging from the way his phone was clutched in his hand and his face was etched with worry, something had happened.

Something that wasn’t good.