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I’d forgotten how long of a drive it was from Richmond to Ocracoke.
I’d also forgotten the amount of traffic that could pile up near Virginia Beach, so by the time I made it through that stupid tunnel and crossed the border into North Carolina, I’d been on the road for hours.
My back ached, and my eyes were tired.
And then I got to the ferry terminal.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself as I pulled into the little store situated right at the entrance.
I promptly turned off the engine and just stared out at the water and the massive ferry docked at the shore.
Logically, I knew I had to board it to get to Ocracoke. I’d traveled on it many times during the few months Daniel and I had lived here. It wasn’t like you could just drive there.
But up until now, I’d been so focused on everything else—from quitting my job and packing to saying good-bye to my family—that I’d completely shut out the pesky little part that involved the ferry.
And to make matters worse, the traffic had made me so late that my only option was the very last ferry of the day.
The same one Daniel had caught when?—
I felt my breath start to hitch, and my eyes filled with tears. “No.” I shook my head. “Not now. Not today.”
Remembering what Dr. Matthews had taught me, I looked around, trying to find something unassuming and solid. I found the car parked in front of me and focused on the Florida license plate, specifically the vibrant oranges in the middle. I drew in each breath slowly, methodically, until I felt back in control.
I never stopped—even as my eyes pulled away from the license plate and I started my car. I pulled out of the parking lot and got in the queue. I felt every ragged breath go in and out of my lungs as I boarded that ferry.
And then I parked.
I’d done it.
I’d made it on the damn boat.
I bit my bottom lip, holding back five years’ worth of emotions as we pulled away from the shore. I looked around as people emerged from their cars to go grab snacks and look over the rail at the water until, finally, the fucking dam broke.
Tears poured down my face like sheets of rain.
If anyone heard my sobs, they were kind enough to leave me to my grief.
It felt like another five years went by before we docked on the other side.
But when we finally did, my tears dried up, and I was ready to make my way onto Highway 12. Departing the ferry, I wasn’t really sure what to expect.
Would things look different?
Would they be the same as I remembered?
But there was one thing to be sure of—I definitely hadn’t expected it to be dark when I disembarked.
But it was.
Pitch-black dark.
I turned down the familiar road on the outskirts of town, remembering the way like the back of my hand.
Pulling into the driveway felt far too intimate, so I opted for the curb. Loose gravel crunched under my tires as I came to a halt and took my first look at the house in five years.
The maintenance company had done everything they’d promised and more. The landscaping was neat and tidy, the grass was cut and?—
“Wait. What the hell? Why aren’t the lights on?” I said out loud, furrowing my brow in confusion.
