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Chapter One
Largo
“There is always a calm before the storm...” ~ Heather Graham
It was coming.
I could feel it.
Beyond the horizon, a formidable force was at work, brewing, churning, growing stronger as it patiently awaited the opportunity to unleash its fury.
While I lacked knowledge of the precise arrival time, I had a strong sense that it was on its way.
Enthralled by the scene before me, I remained seated on the beach, my attention solely focused on the waves relentlessly colliding with the grainy sand. Unable to move a muscle, I stared in awe as the sun gracefully dipped below the harbor, casting a mesmerizing glow across the sky. Out of all the spots I have had the privilege of visiting, this one stood out as one of my most cherished.
Only because he would bring me here.
We said nothing as he held me while we watched the waves. The water, with its rolling movements, coupled with the salty air, carried echoes of him, as did the feel of the mist on my face when the tide rolled in along with the soft pebbled sand beneath my feet.
It was home.
He was home.
I knew that.
I also knew what I’d walked away from.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat to keep him safe.
I should have known better. I should have trusted him. I should have told him. Now it was too late.
I made my bed and now I must lie in it.
The beautiful shades of reds, yellows, and oranges blended together, creating a mesmerizing backdrop that never failed to capture my attention. They were his favorite colors. I knew them well.
It was always him.
The moment I saw him, I knew he was my life.
Not anymore.
Leaving without a word, then divorcing him fixed that.
I didn’t give him a reason. One day we were happily married, the sound of our laughter echoing through the house, then the next I disappeared into the abyss. I tried not to imagine how he must have felt to come home to find me gone, along with our daughter.
The pain I caused him.
I will never forgive myself for that.
I didn’t know why I’d come to this spot. For as long as I could remember, I always felt drawn to the water. My soul felt tethered to something vast and boundless, as if it stretched beyond the limits of my existence. My father used to say that I was born part fish. He was probably right. No matter where my family lived, I was never far from the water.
I can still remember when my parents took me to see the ocean for the first time. I was five years old. My father had just gotten stationed in Norfolk, Virginia, when he took my brother and me to the beach for the first time. The second my eyes landed on the vast, never-ending landscape of water before me,I wanted to know more. Explore every crevice and see what treasures lay hidden in the deep blue waters.
I was hooked.
It was love at first sight.
I knew I would spend my life swimming in the ocean. Entranced, I wanted to do anything with water.
