Page 16 of Leafpoint Lighthouse

“You’re lucky Leafpoint is so wide,” Benny said, jostling me from my thoughts.

“Guess I am,” I smiled as I glanced at the kitchen cupboards that curved into the rounded walls.

“You have the number for the woman who makes the specialised mattresses?” Benny checked.

“Yup. I’ve already sent the measurements. It’s amazing how quickly this is coming together.”

“Leafpoint has good bones. She just needed some tender care and love. Look how she’s blossoming.” Benny grinned.

“She certainly is. I can’t believe Leafpoint’s mine,” I said, running a hand over a wall.

“Lyra, you’re not frightened of all the stories about ghosts?” Benny asked curiously.

“No. Trust me, there are far worse monsters out there than Leafpoint. I’ve encountered several,” I whispered. My face fell, and Benny smiled in sympathy.

“Bad breakup?”

“Humiliating, painful, embarrassing, spite-filled and heartbreaking. One I never saw coming, and I don’t know how I missed it. My ex didn’t just aim at me; my boss, the other woman, outed their affair at work. Everyone knew, and nobody had spoken up, so I was the fool. I left four days after their relationship was announced. Hell, Cale even broke up with me in the office as my colleagues and their friends snickered.

“Lyra, that’s harsh.” Benny shook his head.

“What’s bad is I was with Cale for five years, and he was seeing her for three years. Serena didn’t care that she was the mistress. Honestly, I’ve no idea why he didn’t just break up with me,” I whispered.

“Men are idiots,” Benny said sagely, and I giggled even as I swallowed tears.

“Yup, I certainly won’t trust someone else anytime soon.”

“You’re young.”

“Twenty-five and soured on guys already. There’s no way I’ll ever risk my heart again. Certain people don’t know how to cherish something precious,” I complained.

“A small percentage do. I’d die for my missus; I’ve never looked at any other woman and never will. Is she still the person I married? Hell no. But her body, the lines on her face, her attitude, speak of a life she and I have shared. We’ve loved, laughed, lost, grieved, and done it all together. That’s something to cherish.”

“Women need more men like you, Benny!” I exclaimed, wiping tears from my eyes.

“There’s someone out there for you, Lyra.”

With a bitter smile, I shook my head. “I’m seven years older than Tom. If you don’t mind, I’ll give Tom another five and then set my cap at him.”

Benny laughed at my teasing. “Tom’s a good kid.”

“Because his parents raised him right. Go on, get off to your family and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I was close to a breakdown and was barely holding it together. Benny seemed to sense this as he waved goodbye. As his van pulled out, I sank to the clean floor and, drawing my knees up, began sobbing.

The pain and embarrassment spilt out of me. Every biting word uttered during that workplace showdown I remembered, and it all came flooding back—that cruel, final showdown. Serena gloated I was a nobody and talentless, and that I was going to be forever stuck in a dead-end job. She, however, was a rising star in the company. Cale agreed, ignoring the hurt on my face and in my voice.

He’d asked the staff who he belonged with—elegant, brilliant Serena or frumpy, ambitionless me. The office had roared with laughter. Cale told me I was the charity case, the pity fuck, and now he needed to find a more worthy charity to support. Cale’s friends hurled insults; how I was forever clinging to and stalking him. I left early with Serena threatening to dock my wages, and I returned home.

“If this hadn’t happened, I don’t know what I’d have done,” I whispered through my tears. “After all, there’s no one who would have noticed I was missing, nobody to care if I was dead. I was invisible.”

William

Lyra’s words sank deep into my chest, and I hurt for her. She appeared to have suffered terribly at the hands of this Cale. What sort of man acts in that manner? Unusually, I was torn. Lyra seemed so desperate and miserable; she needed somewhere to hide and heal. But if I let her stay, she could release what I kept imprisoned. There really wasn’t a choice, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel sorry for her.

Guilt-ridden, I rattled a drawer, and Lyra’s head snapped up. She glanced about warily. Minutes ticked by, and she wiped her tears.

“They’ll never find me here,” she whispered, and I closed my eyes. The poor girl needed somewhere to hide, and here I was about to traumatise her. That left me no different from her ex-boyfriend. That made me a cad and went against my grain. My parents were what would be called upper working class. My dad ran a lucrative grocery shop, which allowed me to receive an education. I have no idea what my mother and father thought my future would hold, but it wasn’t becoming a lighthouse keeper. But I loved the job.