AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They remained there, father anddaughter, an uncertain tableau framed by the fire’s warm glow, each wrestlingwith the ghosts of yesteryears and the slipping glimmer of hope for a sharedtomorrow.
Charlotte suddenly, desperately wantedto run to Simon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chesham Cove had always been a balm toCharlotte's soul, but tonight, its familiar caress did little to ease theturmoil that knotted her insides. With every step closer to Simon's doorstep,her heart felt like a spar buoy, bobbing erratically on the tumultuous sea ofher emotions. The drama from The Old Crown Inn clung to her like barnacles to aship's hull, relentless and suffocating.
She raised a trembling hand to knock onthe weather-worn door of Simon's quaint cottage, nestled in the embrace ofwildflowers and undulating coastal grasses on the far side of town. But beforeshe could knock, the door swung open to reveal Simon, his presence as sturdy asthe fishing boats he tended to with such care.
"Charlotte," he said, hisdeep voice laced with concern. Before another word could be exchanged, hisstrong arms enveloped her in a warm embrace. It was the kind of hug that seemedto stitch back together the frayed edges of her composure, the kind thatwhispered promises of shelter against life's tempests.
"Come in," Simon urgedgently, his hands lingering for a moment longer on her back before he steppedaside, granting her passage into his home.
The living room greeted her. It was aspace that spoke of Simon's life by the sea—the walls adorned with shells anddriftwood, the shelves lined with glass bottles holding sea glass in the mutedgreens and blues of the ocean.
"Here, have a seat," Simonmotioned toward the plush sofa, the center of a cozy arrangement of furniturethat faced the warmth of a stone fireplace. Even unlit, it seemed to radiatecomfort.
"Thank you," Charlottemanaged, her voice strained as she sank down onto the cushions, the fabric cooland soothing beneath her palms.
Simon took the armchair opposite her,his body angling toward hers in an unspoken vow of attention. His eyes, thecolor of storm clouds over the cove, held hers with an intensity that beckonedher to unload the weight of her worries.
"Would you like some tea?" heoffered, though his gaze never wavered, making it clear that his primaryconcern was not hospitality but her well-being.
Charlotte shook her head, a faint smiletouching her lips at the predictable kindness in his question. That seemed tobe the answer to everything lately, and she was beginning to associate tea withawkward conversation—not pleasant, since she loved tea. But it was just likeSimon to cloak his caring in simple gestures, to offer a cup of tea as if itcould mend all the broken things in the world.
"Talk to me, Charlotte," hesaid softly, his voice a steady tide reaching out to her. "What'shappened?"
In that moment, wrapped in the quietunderstanding of the man whose love had become both anchor and compass,Charlotte felt the first threads of calm begin to weave their way through herdisquiet. Here, in this room steeped in the essence of Simon, she foundcourage. And she poured out everything that had happened with Henry, and Liam,and Roxie—holding back tears as she did.
Finally, Charlotte drew in a deepbreath that shuddered on the exhale, her fingers tracing the delicate patternon the ceramic coaster beside her. It was an environment that invitedconfession, and Charlotte felt the dam of her reserve begin to crumble. Therewas something else troubling her.
"Simon," she began, her voiceas fragile as the shells adorning the window ledge, "I'm so afraid thatall this mess with my family will scare you off. That you might hesitateto...to commit to me because you don't want that kind of chaos in yourlife."
Her words hung between them likelaundry on a line, swaying with vulnerability. She watched Simon closely, hergaze flitting over his face, searching for a sign, any indication of histhoughts.
He leaned forward, resting his elbowson his knees, bridging the gap between them. His rugged hands, usually so surewhen hauling nets or steering his boat through churning waters, now reached outwith a gentleness that belied their strength and took hold of hers.
"Charlotte," he said, hisvoice low and earnest, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words,"I've seen you handle more storms than the ones that batter our coast.You’ve turned The Old Crown Inn from a ruin into a home, a haven. You ran offthat knob of an ex-husband instead of letting him win you back to The States.You told Thomas Windnell no on more money than most Cheshamers see in alifetime. Your family—you can withstand this. They’re a part of you, and thatmeans they’re important to me too."
The room seemed to hold its breath asSimon spoke, the tide of his assurance washing over her, soothing the jaggededges of her fears.
“Your family won’t change how I feelabout us," he continued, his thumb caressing the back of her hand in acomforting rhythm. "I’m here, Charlotte, committed to whatever comes ourway. Together."
The tender resolve in his voice wrappedaround her like a blanket. In those words, she found a safe harbor—a promisethat no matter the squalls ahead, they would weather them side by side.
Charlotte let out a small, nervouschuckle, breaking the silence that had settled between them like the gentlelull after high tide. "You know," she said, picking at a loose threadon the cushion beside her, "I'm not sure you know what you're in for withmy lot. They could give any Shakespearean comedy a run for its money."
The joke fell flat between them,tugging the corners of his mouth into a half-smile that did nothing to ease theclenching fear in her heart. Her gaze dropped to his hands, roughened by thesea and work, yet so gentle when they cradled hers. The contrast sent a shiverthrough her.
"Maybe," she whispered,barely audible, "maybe we're rushing this. Maybe I've been so eager tostart over, to prove I can find happiness again, that I didn't stop to think ifI was actually ready for...for commitment."
The confession hung in the air, thewords tasting sour with doubt. Charlotte felt adrift, as though she were on oneof Simon's boats, lost in a foggy sea without a compass.
"Charlotte," Simon said, hisvoice a low rumble. His calloused fingers gently lifted her chin, guiding herreluctant eyes to meet his.
"Look at me," he urgedsoftly. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, the deep blue mirroring thetwilight ocean's serenity that had first drawn her to Chesham Cove. There wasno judgment there, only a steady warmth that beckoned her closer to the safetyof his shores.
"Love," Simon continued, eachword deliberate and laced with conviction, "I am committed to you,to us, to whatever future we have. No family antics or past ghosts can changethat. My heart is yours, Charlotte, for however long you'll have it."
