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CHAPTER ONE
It's a postcard brought to life.
The thought made Charlotte Moore smile as she took in the absolutely perfect view before her—but it wasn’t the picturesque coastline of Chesham Cove, England, with quaint cottages nestled between rolling hills and cobblestone streets that wound through the village like ribbons of history, that held her attention.
Charlotte stood on the front steps of The Old Crown Inn, facing the beautiful but crumbling manor. Oh, sure, she thought. Not everyone would agree with me, but…
The thick manila envelope clutched in her hands meant it was official—the house was hers, and hers alone. She brushed a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling with anticipation for what was to come. Seagulls cawed in the distance, their melodies blending harmoniously with the whispers of the sea breeze. The scent of saltwater and fresh-baked bread from down the hill at the local bakery filled the air.
There were no people rushing to work, no horns honking or sirens blaring. Charlotte marveled at the contrast between her former life in bustling New York City and the quiet serenity of this coastal English town. Chesham Cove seemed worlds away from the skyscrapers and constant chaos she’d left behind. But this was exactly what she needed after the tumultuous end of her marriage to Daniel. Here, she hoped to rediscover herself as an artist and a woman, free from the shackles of a—news to her—boring and loveless union. Chesham was a new beginning, a chance to heal and grow under the watchful eye of the rolling waves and the endless sky.
The sun had begun its descent, casting a golden glow over Chesham, softening the edges of the world and bathing everything in a warm, ethereal light. The stone walls of The Old Crown Inn seemed to absorb the day's last rays, holding onto the memories of countless sunsets that had come before. And there would be many more for her to add now. Happy memories, not painful ones like she'd left behind.
Though she was tired from a day spent signing, initialing, and sorting out the idiosyncrasies of buying an overseas property, Charlotte felt good. With more pep in her step than her energy level might have otherwise allowed, she bounded into the house. She had to get ready.
The warm glow of the remaining sun streamed through the windows of the formal living room at The Crown, the delicate lace curtains casting patterns on the hardwood floors. Tonight was the night—the first official date with Simon. Just the thought of the rugged and kindhearted fisherman made anticipation bubble within Charlotte like champagne, effervescent and light. But ribboning through her excitement was a thread of uncertainty—was she ready to move on so soon after her divorce?
There was something so perfect about Simon, something that made her feel treasured and protected…
"Deep breaths," she murmured to herself as she stood before the full-length mirror in her room, surveying the collection of outfits she’d laid out on the bed just this morning. Her fingers traced the fabrics, hesitating between a soft cashmere sweater and a flowing silk blouse. Deciding instead on a flattering bright-yellow dress that hugged her curves just right, she slipped it on and admired how it accentuated her deep-set blue eyes and porcelain skin. A touch of mascara and a dash of lipstick were enough to highlight her natural beauty, and as she pinned her chestnut hair into a loose updo, she allowed herself a small, confident smile.
"You can do this," she whispered, though her words were laced with a shaky self-assurance. Daniel had hated this dress—he’d once called it garish.
As she descended the grand staircase of the inn, her heart raced with equal parts excitement and nerves. Each click of her heels against the aged wooden steps echoed through the empty halls, reminding her of the risk she took in coming to this charming town—and the risk she was about to take with Simon—and the hope they both represented for her future.
Taking one last deep breath, she stepped outside into the crisp evening air, the scent of salt and sea intermingling. There, leaning against the weathered stone wall that enclosed the courtyard of The Crown, stood Simon, his tanned face lighting up with a warm, genuine smile that lit his eyes.
"Charlotte!" he greeted her, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers. "You look absolutely stunning."
"Thank you, Simon," she replied with a shy smile, accepting the flowers and breathing in their sweet fragrance. "These are beautiful."
She nodded toward the wicker basket in his other hand. “What’s that?”
“I promised you dinner, didn’t I, luv?” He shifted the basket to the hand farthest from her and offered her his empty palm. She tried to remind herself, as she took his hand, that love was simply slang in these parts. But inside, she still thrilled.
As they began to walk down the hill, hand in hand through the cobblestone streets, Charlotte felt her nervousness give way to an easy silence. The world around them seemed to fade away until all that remained was the warmth of Simon's hand in hers. Just as they reached Chesham proper, the street lamps flicked on, illuminating their path. The charming shops that lined their way stood like friendly sentinels, welcoming them into the heart of Chesham Cove. Charlotte noticed the air growing cooler, and she wished she had thought to bring a cardigan.
Soon, they reached a cliffside path, where a picturesque twilight view of the ocean stretched out before them like an infinite canvas.
"Here we are," Simon announced, leading her to a scenic spot overlooking the water. The newly arrived moon cast a silver glow over the gentle waves, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. The sound of the surf crashing against the rocks below provided a soothing soundtrack.
"Simon, this is absolutely breathtaking," Charlotte whispered, captivated by the beauty of the scene before her.
"Much like yourself," he replied softly, and she felt a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks.
Simon unpacked a blanket and spread it over a soft patch of grass. He offered her his hand as she settled down to the ground. He settled beside her and began to unpack the picnic basket, pulling out a loaf of crusty bread, some creamy brie cheese, and a bottle of wine.
"Let me help," she said softly, reaching for the wine opener in the depths of the basket. Still nervous, she fumbled with the corkscrew, silently chastising herself for being so clumsy.
"Here, let me," Simon offered gently, taking the opener from her hand and effortlessly uncorking the bottle. He poured them each a glass before raising his in a toast. "To new beginnings," he said, and Charlotte felt her cheeks grow warm as she clinked her glass against his.
"New beginnings," she echoed, allowing herself a small sip of the velvety red wine. The rich flavors melded perfectly with the tanginess of the brie and the earthiness of the bread. Sensations washed over her – the taste of the food, the sound of waves crashing against the shore below, and the scent of salt in the air mixed with the faint aroma of wildflowers from the bouquet Simon had given her earlier.
"Isn't this amazing?" Simon asked, a look of pure contentment on his face as he gazed out at the ocean. "I've always loved coming here. The sea seems to have a way of washing away all my worries."
The English beach at night, under a canopy of stars, was a scene of tranquil beauty and serene solitude. The moon, a silver crescent in the velvety sky, cast a gentle glow over the coastline, its light shimmering on the surface of the sea like a pathway of diamonds. Stars twinkled above, distant and mysterious, their faint light adding to the nocturnal magic that enveloped the shore.
The waves, softer now in the nocturnal hours, lapped gently against the shore, a soothing, rhythmic sound that whispered secrets of the deep. The water, dark and enigmatic under the night sky, stretched to the horizon where it merged with the heavens, blurring the boundaries between sea and space.
