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"Only the best for you," he replied with a wink. “No Cornish Pasties, though. Sorry.,”
They ate slowly, savoring the food, trading stories, and laughing often. The wine soon had them both feeling pleasantly relaxed.
As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, Charlotte leaned against Simon, head resting on his shoulder. His arm encircled her waist, holding her close.
She sighed in utter contentment. This small slice of paradise, here with this wonderful man - it was everything she had been missing. A chance to start over and follow her heart. She only hoped it would never end.
Charlotte closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the lowering sun on her face. She thought back to her life in New York - the sterile apartment, the endless appearances for Daniel’s company, the fake-smiling cocktail parties, the growing distance between her and Daniel. It all seemed part of another lifetime now.
Here in Chesham Cove, she had found something real. Through hard work and determination, she was transforming the old inn into a welcoming home. She had made fast friends with the villagers, like Sally. She had reconnected with her art, the creative passion flowing freely once more.
And then there was Simon. Dear, steady, wonderful Simon, who had appeared just when she needed him most. With his patience and support, she was healing the scars of her failed marriage. He made her feel appreciated, cared for - loved. And she hoped she had helped him find closure with Isla.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Thank you," she said softly.
He furrowed his brow. "For what?"
"For everything. For being there when I got here. For helping me with the inn. For..." she gestured vaguely, suddenly overcome with emotion.
He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't need to thank me. Just seeing you smile is thanks enough."
"I'm serious," she said, sitting up to face him. "I was so lost when I came here. But you helped me find my way again. I don't know what I would have done without you."
Simon caressed her cheek. "You're stronger than you know. But I'll always be here to remind you of that."
Charlotte blinked back, happy tears. The future was still uncertain, but she knew one thing for sure - she had found her home here in Simon's arms. Charlotte cherished these quiet moments with Simon, but a bittersweet feeling crept in as she glanced at her watch.
“Oh! Amelia’s flight!”
She had lost track of time.
Charlotte and Simon made their way back to the pier, and she left him with a lingering kiss. She drove quickly to The Crown, and bustled upstairs to help her daughter finish packing. Amelia was folding clothes into her suitcase, a pensive look on her face.
"All set?" Charlotte asked gently.
Amelia nodded, then turned to face her mother, tears glistening in her eyes. "I don't want to go," she said in a small voice.
Charlotte enveloped her in a hug. "I know, sweetheart. I don't want you to either. But just think - one more semester, and you'll be done."
Amelia sniffed. "I'm really going to miss it here. I'm going to miss you."
"Oh, Amelia, I'll miss you too. So much." Charlotte stroked her hair. "But I'm also so proud of you. You're going to do such amazing things. Did you and Nathan have a good time this morning on your walk? You're keeping in touch?"
Amelia gave a watery smile. "Yes. Thanks, Mom."
They held each other tightly. Charlotte committed every detail to memory - her daughter's perfume, the texture of her hair, the shape of her shoulders.
Too soon, the taxi horn sounded from outside. Charlotte helped carry Amelia's bags out to the waiting car. She kissed her daughter's forehead.
"I love you. Call me when you land, okay?"
"I will. Love you too, Mom."
Charlotte watched the cab pull away, pride and sadness swirling inside her. But she knew Amelia was ready to fly. It was a new chapter for both of them. Charlotte lingered outside after the taxi disappeared from view, the bittersweet emotions still washing over her. But as she turned back to look at the inn, a feeling of peace settled in her heart.
The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow on the weathered stone and ivy-covered walls. Seagulls wheeled and called overhead, their cries echoing the endless rhythm of the waves. Charlotte breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the briny scent of the sea.
This was home now. The realization swept through her with certainty. She had found her place here in Chesham Cove, in the nurturing embrace of the village and the wild beauty of the coastline. Charlotte walked slowly up the path to the entrance of the inn, running her hand along the exterior wall. She could almost feel the steady heartbeat of the old building, its history and spirit woven into every stone.
