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Chapter Four
Kathryn
First thing I noticed when I found the man standing in my backyard was his posture. He was tense, rigid even, as he gazed out at the vast ocean, but there was something so…familiar about him. He’s tall—very tall, actually—with lean hips and long legs. My mind instantly flashes back to the man in the truck from earlier today. He felt familiar too.
It must be this place. I knew being home would conjure up ghosts I wasn’t prepared to deal with, but needed to vanquish just the same. This is my chance, my do-over, and if that means I’m going to have to go to war with memories to finally live my life as my own, then so be it.
That’s what Dad wanted.
Tears burn my eyes and I force them away. I will not cry. I’ve done enough of that, and I’m not about to start now. That’s why I’m out here, actually. It was time to get out of the house for a while. The sandy beach and the rolling waves were calling my name, so I found a pair of flip-flops that would have made my mother have a coronary, and headed out the back door.
I noticed the man right away. I waited for the familiar fear to bubble in my chest, the anxiety to take over, but it never came. Instead, I felt…relief. It’s weird the way your body can respond and the way your mind can ease just by being in the presence of a stranger. I watched him for a few moments as he wrote on a rolled up drawing he carried with him. I could sense he was part of a team, most likely the landscaping or electrical.
Then he gazed up at the sun and let the warm, salty breeze blow across his face. I knew what he was doing, because I had done the exact same thing the night before. It was the reason I talked to the electrician about adding a light back there. I could already envision a small private seating area, complete with shrubs and potted flowers. A private outside reading nook, as I deemed it.
Or maybe I’ll use it for something else.
I don’t let my mind go there. It’s hard enough to get through the day without thinking about the other thing I had lost all those years ago.
My gift.
Something draws me to this man, this stranger. I find myself taking tentative steps in his direction until I’m standing about ten feet away. That’s when he slowly turns around and my heart stops beating. The shock steals the very breath I breathe as blue eyes the same color as the ocean stare down at me.
My Jensen.
He looks the same, yet so very different. His eighteen-year-old baby face is replaced with stubble and tanned skin from spending time in the sun. Subtle lines crease the corner of his eyes and his full lips are dry and cracked. His shoulders have muscles he didn’t have back when, and through his tight T-shirt, I can see hard planes and swells of years of manual labor. Oh, yes, the years have been good to Jensen Grayson.
Suddenly, I find it hard to inhale. My vision starts to blur and the familiar panic starts to sweep in. My chest burns as I close my eyes, willing the panic to subside. It doesn’t, of course, and I place my hand out, needing to touch the ground. Strong arms wrap around my upper arms and help guide me down. The grass tickles my legs, but it’s a welcome feeling as I concentrate on breathing in and out.
“Look at me, Kate,” he says, his voice strong and firm, yet brimming with fear.
When I open my eyes, I’m comforted by those deep blue orbs that are both gentle and pained. “Can’t. Breathe.” I pant, my chest working hard.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he whispers softly, holding my gaze with his intensity. “That’s it, Butterfly, deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth, nice and slow.” I do as he instructs, keeping my eyes locked on his. “You got it,” he adds when the pressure in my chest starts to subside.
It’s then I realize his hands are rubbing gentle circles over my upper arms. His touch causes a reaction to my body, but it’s not like the panicked one from a few moments ago. “Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely as my breathing starts to even out. The spots in my vision are gone, leaving mortification in its wake.
“You okay?” he asks softly, the deep timbre of his voice jolting my frayed nerve endings like never before.
I nod my head and close my eyes. “I will be.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and to be honest, I’m not sure if they’re meant for him or me. I will be okay. After the divorce, the move, and still dealing with the aftermath of my father’s death, I’ll be okay. Now this? Running into the love of my life in my backyard after more than a decade? I’m not one-hundred-percent sure I’ll be okay, but I’m hoping that I will. Someday.
“What happened there?” he asks, taking a seat across from me and crossing his legs.
Embarrassment tinges my cheeks. “I, uh, sometimes have panic attacks.”
His mouth opens in shock and slowly nods his head. “Since when?”
Since when? How about since I left Rockland Falls in the middle of the night without warning or so much as a goodbye? How’s that for an answer?
Instead, I go with, “A while.”
Again, he slowly nods his head as if he’s just taking it all in. Me, showing back up in town and on the job he’s apparently working, no less. I’m sure he’s reeling from this revelation as much as I am. Of course, he didn’t dive full-on into a panic attack. No, those little treats are just for me.
Jensen stares at me, his blue eyes seeming to assess everything about me. I wonder what he sees, but am too afraid to ask. I’m sure he doesn’t like the woman sitting before him any more than I do. Sure, she’s still a pretty girl, but I’m willing to bet that’s clouded with hurt and deceit. Yes, I deceived him the day I told him I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. A lie? Hell no, but a deceit nonetheless since it didn’t happen.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I’m sorry seems too cliché, even if I truly am. His gaze drifts up and over me. I’m not sure if he’s staring off into space or at the massive house in the background.
Finally, he seems to take pity on my inability to form words. “So, you’re the new owner?” he asks, still looking over my shoulder.
