Page 48 of Finding Forever

She retreated back into the hallway. Neither room had given her much insight into her husband’s personality. And as she tentatively approached the closed door at the far end of the hallway, she felt like a bride in Bluebird’s castle. While he hadn’t explicitly told her that it was off-limits, it still felt like she was about to do something taboo.

She half expected it to be locked, but it swung open smoothly and she blinked in confusion at the sight of the empty craft table with a tall stool that had been placed next to the window. There was also a neatly organized craft storage cabinet running all along the left wall of the room.

She wandered over to the table, trying to get some understanding of what it was he likely worked on it here. There was a round magnifying lamp on one side of the table, along with a plethora of mysterious tools, in pristine condition, all precisely laid out on a felt cloth. Even though he didn’t appear to be currently working on a project—probably because he hadn’t expected to be in Cape Town for very long—Fern found ittelling that whatever his hobby was, he enjoyed it so much he’d gone to the trouble to set up a hobby room in an apartment he rarely frequented. Which meant, he likely had a similar room set up in some of his other properties as well.

Her curiosity was well and truly fired now and, keeping her hands folded behind her back to prevent herself from touching, she peered into the assorted transparent plastic containers, which were displayed on the open shelving in the storage cabinet. Little gears and tiny screws and… well those looked like watch hands.

From what she gather from the contents of those containers, she guessed he restored and repaired watches or clocks maybe.

How fascinating.

That had to take a great deal of time and patience and very steady hands… but with what she knew about Cade’s temperament, a hobby like that would suit him perfectly.

She curbed the impulse to snoop even further and retreated back to the kitchen intent on finding something to eat. His fridge was fully stocked, of course—Cade was nothing if not exceptionally well organized—but Fern felt nauseous as usual and settled on dry toast and black tea as her breakfast of choice.

She carried her plate and mug out onto the patio—her favorite place in the whole apartment—and curled up on the comfortable sofa. It was a pretty day, sunny and pleasantly warm, the sky was a beautiful shade of azure that melted seamlessly into the deeper cobalt of the ocean on the horizon.

Even though it was Monday morning, there were plenty of people already on the beach and Fern wondered about their lives. Were they on vacation? Did they work from home? Or were they like her? Aimless and without any real purpose?

The thought depressed her and her hand went to her abdomen as she contemplated her future as a mother. For the first time she wondered if she so desperately wanted this baby only because it would give her life some meaning. It wasn’t thebest reason to have a baby. Her life couldn’t revolve around another person, even if it was her child. It wouldn’t be healthy for her or for the baby.

Fern needed to figure out whatshewanted from life before she had this child.

As she nibbled on her dry toast, her mind wandered, going back to the dreams she’d once had. She put her empty plate on the coffee table and reached for her phone, impulsively doing a search on pediatric occupational therapy. She’d always wanted to help children with cognitive and developmental disabilities. Ever since one of her classmates—later diagnosed with a form of autism—had struggled, and ultimately failed, to adapt to a so-called “normal” classroom environment.

The girl had often been punished, labeled as obstructive and stubborn, and had become more and more closed off until her parents had been forced to homeschool her.

Years later, when Fern had “assisted” the teachers at her old school, she’d been the one to take the girls with learning disabilities under her wing. It had felt like a calling that was forever out of reach.

Granger had always insisted that Fern was too “stupid” for further education. But after doing the bare minimum research, she now recognized that her high school grades had been above and beyond the requirements.

Whyhad she ever believed a word that man said?

Fern had, in fact, excelled in all subjects in the vain hope of persuading Granger that she was good enough for university, but he hadn’t cared. She now knew that he would never have agreed, even if she’d scored perfect grades.

Allowing her the freedom to attend university would have meant relinquishing too much control over her.

Now, as she stared at the list of requirements the years of studying and community service a career in occupational therapy would demand, Fernwonderedwhat if…

Could she do this? As a single mother, with a small child, and no support system? Was it even possible?

As she stared sightlessly out at the horizon, she contemplated her life and where she was at this very moment. And for the first time in years Fern felt like she could doanything. No matter how difficult. With the almost limitless resources she would soon have at her disposal, nothing was beyond her reach.

Her lips stretched into a smile, and excitement began to fizz through her veins. She could do this. Shewoulddo this. She couldn’t quite contain a tiny, burblingsqueeof excitement.

“What’s wrong?” Cade’s alarmed voice coming from behind her made Fern physically jump in fright and her head whipped around to find him in the doorway, dressed in a loose black tank top, a pair of mid-thigh length black shorts, and running shoes. Her eyes skittered up and down his big frame as she tried to take in as much as she could in a few brief seconds. Heavily muscled shoulders, arms, thighs, calves… oh my.

God, the man was magnificent. His tanned skin was gleaming with sweat, his hair wet and slicked back. His tank top had slipped to reveal a flat, brown nipple nestled in among a silky smattering of chest hair.

Fern squeaked, hand flying to her mouth as she gaped at her gorgeous husband, who was staring at her with a heavy frown on his face.

“Fern? Are you okay?”

“Erm, I’m fine thanks. How are you?” Oh,come on. She nearly curled up in embarrassment at her inane response.

His beautiful lips tilted upwards at the corners.

“I’m good. You seemed in distress earlier. I was worried that it may have been the—” A vague wave toward her midsection. “That.”

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