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Chapter30
Cora
THEN
My grief is overwhelming.
I lose track of time. Hours meld into days, days into weeks, weeks into months. I drift through the house like a ghost, unseeing, uncaring. Chills wrack my body and no amount of stoked fires or blankets can warm me. The orchards wither because the workers leave in droves. Nobody wants to come near us because they believe Arcania is cursed. Rumors abound.
I don’t care about any of it because my life as I know it is over. Fate is sadistic. I thought I’d saved Ava by getting rid of Harlan, only to have her cruelly snatched from me. I’d warned her about the boardwalk, how I never took a stroll along it because the swamp harbored a malevolent presence the same as the house. But my daughter didn’t listen and now I’m alone.
Daphne and Spencer stay, though I can’t rely on them. As the mistress of Arcania I need to establish boundaries now and that means treating Daphne as a cook and Spencer as housekeeper/manager. Whatever relationship Spencer and I had that might’ve developed into something more is now over. I’m not the same person and it’s not just the grief gnawing away at me every day.
I’ve come to a decision.
My entire life, I’ve never belonged anywhere. Mom and her transient boyfriends made me feel unwelcome, and even when I married Harlan I felt like his instability could undermine me at any moment and I’d be homeless again.
So I’ve quelled my initial urge to sell this place and get as far from Arcania and its terrible memories as I can, and have decided to stay and transform it.
Wipe away the past.
Focus on the future.
Make Arcania great again.
Harlan was a greedy narcissist whose obsession with a legend made him lose sight of what he had: a magnificent house and impressive surroundings that can be changed into anything. So that’s what I’m going to do. Make Arcania welcoming. Entice people to visit, to fill the rooms with love and laughter and help me banish the ghosts.
Money isn’t an issue thanks to Harlan’s careful investments with the income from the orchard over the years, so I’ll renovate. A complete refurbishment with the view of potentially listing Arcania as a B&B.
I can do this.
Darkness descends quickly in Flotilla Firth and as I stare out the window from my office, I see a light bobbing along the boardwalk. I stiffen, because it can only be Spencer or Daphne and I assume neither is foolish enough to walk alongside the swamp in the dark.
My fingernails dig into the windowsill as the light draws nearer and I blink. My mind is playing tricks on me because for a moment I see Ava. Wishful thinking, as Spencer materializes and I realize in that moment how in the right light, with shadows shrouding him and his head tilted at an angle as he glances over his shoulder, how much Ava looks like him.
I’ve seen a slight resemblance over the years but dismissed it for fear if I could see it Harlan might too, but maybe I’d been looking for things that weren’t there, a reminder that no matter how much my husband thought he controlled me, my daughter was the biggest rebellion.
Spencer reaches the front door and I know it’s time.
Time to tell him my decision.
I open my office door as he enters the foyer. The gloom is omnipresent, but I can’t see the point in lighting the place with only three of us here.
His gaze lands on me, silhouetted in the doorway, and the tenderness I see in his eyes makes my resolve wavers. For years we’ve had to hide our relationship. He’s been my rock and asked nothing of me. He’s stoically supported me and Ava, and now with Harlan gone, I know Spencer will assume our relationship can finally flourish.
I assume he’ll leave when I make a clean break and while I’ll miss him, I need to do this. Rely on no one. Cleanse my grief by reinvigorating Arcania. It’s the only way forward. Because as much as I care about Spencer, I don’t love him. At least, not enough to give up the one thing that provides me with stability: this place.
“Can we talk?” I ask, stepping aside so he can enter the office.
I’ve deliberately chosen my office as the place to break the news to him as it’s more professional and he knows it by the slight elevation of his brow as he passes me.
“Everything okay?” His hand lingers in the small of my back for a few moments, and I grit my teeth against the urge to lean into him.
It would be so easy to give in and become the couple he wants to be, but I must remain resolute.
“As okay as it can be when my reason for living is dead.”
He nods, sorrow down turning his mouth. “I miss Ava too, every damn day.”
