Emma had chosen to abide by her vows and rebuild her family. How could he disrupt another marriage? It would be selfish. Irresponsible. It wasn’t right.
Exhausted again and out of breath, Oliver sank onto the cool sand and sat there, staring at the horizon and struggling with his emotions. He still wanted Emma. He wanted her to know that he loved her. But he also wanted to raise his two children, to love and support them through life, and to one day know his grandchildren.
Oliver gazed up at the pale-gray sky. The clouds, thick and dense, rolled sluggishly eastward. For a long while, he watched their graceful movement and felt a gradual settling of his heart.
He was very tired. Tired of fighting for survival, for love, and for the wisdom to do the right thing. He’d been responsible for twelve men on that island off the coast of Africa. There were many deaths over the years, during and after the war, that he had to answer for.
Oliver collapsed wearily onto his back and lay for a long while in the warmth of that overcast August afternoon. Sleepily, he continued to watch the blanket of clouds travel across the sky. Or maybe it was the rotation of the earth he was witnessing.
Eventually, he reached into his jacket pocket and wrapped his hand around the ring he’d bought for Emma. He couldn’t bear to think about what might have happened if he’d made it back in time to propose and place it on her finger. What would their lives have looked like?
It was torture to imagine what could never be, so he sat up and stared at the ocean, wondering what to do next.
All he knew was that he had to leave Sable Island and say goodbye to it forever. Though it had wielded a profound power and effect on his soul and had changed him deeply, for the better, it was time to go home.
It was time to go home to his children.
Chapter 33
England, 1995
“So, you never saw her again?” Joanna asked. “Ever? That must have been devastating.”
Without answering, her grandfather carried the dessert plates to the sink and scraped them clean.
Outside, the rain had stopped. The whole world had gone quiet and still, except for Joanna’s heart, which was pounding in her ears. She’d never seen such a look of sorrow in her grandfather’s eyes before, except when Nana died. But this was different. Years seemed to have fallen away from his face. He was a younger man again—but a sad one.
He returned to stand behind his chair and gripped the back of it.
“After all that,” he said, “when I was walking back to my boat, I saw a small herd of horses grazing on top of a low dune. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. I stayed there for ... oh, I don’t know, maybe half an hour, just watching, slowly moving closer, but I couldn’t get close enough to touch them. Eventually, they broke into a gallop and headed inland, to the heath. My God, they were so beautiful ...”
He slowly blinked, as if he were continuing to live and breathe in that memory, in the exquisiteness of it all, the good and thebad—because it waslife, part of the living, breathing world. His children. The war. The shipwrecks. His love for Emma. Even the loss of her. Emma lived only in his memory now—like one of those dreamlike horses he couldn’t quite reach, galloping away beyond the dune.
Joanna knew that despite the pain, it was all beautiful, because of where it had taken him—to this moment in this kitchen with his granddaughter, who loved and cherished him and owed him everything for her happiness.
“Oh, Grandad ...” Joanna’s eyes stung with tears until she wiped at both cheeks. “I love you. And I’m so sorry you never got to see her again. I can’t even imagine.”
Because she’d never loved anyone like that.
Her grandad seemed to wake from a dream and return to the present. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
Joanna stood up and hugged him. When she drew back, she still had questions. “So, when you came back to England, is that when you got back together with Nana? For good?”
“Yes,” he replied. “While I was gone, her relationship with that other man ended, which I took as another sign from above. She wanted us to try again, and I wanted to be a part of my children’s lives, so I moved back home. I’ve been living in this house ever since.”
“So, you did it for your children?” Joanna asked, needing clarity while she thought of her grandfather’s shattered heart.
“At first,” he replied. “But over time, like I said, I began to see the glass as half-full, and you know the rest.”
Yes, Joanna knew how her grandfather had always respected Nana as a mother and a homemaker. Clearly, he’d forgiven her for her infidelity, because he was not without transgressions of his own.
“And here we all are,” he said lightly, “still trotting along, on ever-shifting sands.”
A sense of profound understanding washed over her. There were no guarantees in this world. Happiness was never constant or unbroken.Sometimes it fell away, or was ripped away, and it was beyond the range of vision.
But it was still out there, perhaps just over the next rise.
“Thank goodness for second chances,” she said, and couldn’t help but smile at her grandfather. What a treasure he’d been in her life. How grateful she was for his love—especially now, knowing that he could have chosen another path to an entirely different destination.
