Page 93 of Until We Break

I pulled her fully into my lap. “You’re not going anywhere. There’s a way to keep this place. We’ll brainstorm some more. And until then…”

“Yes?” The sadness in her eyes was beautiful. A bittersweet glimpse of the pain she carried.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

I leaned toward her, touching my forehead to hers. Our breathing aligned. I cupped the sides of her face. I felt the warmth between us. The connection. This love was the most real thing I’d ever experienced.

“I promise. I won’t leave.”

FORTY-THREE

Margot

The sun sparkled on the early morning water. I carried two cups of coffee in my hand. I was going to attempt something I had never attempted before. I watched a graceful heron skirt over the surface of the water as I crossed the parking lot. I was careful not to slosh either of the mugs. My stomach did a little flip and I held my breath as I approached the fisherman on the end of the pier.

“Hi.” I smiled. “I brought you a cup of coffee.” I placed it on the piling closest to him.

I stood back and waited for something to happen. He cast his line again.

“I’ve been here for months, and I see you out here every single morning so I thought we should finally meet. What better way to meet than over a morning cup of coffee, right? So, here I am,” I babbled. “I’m Margot. You probably know that, but Walt’s niece, Margot.”

He jerked on the line and reeled in a few inches before giving it another yank.

“John.”

I blinked. “You’re John?” I nodded. Okay.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He reached to the side and brought it to his lips. I couldn’t read his expression beneath the hat. The brim concealed his reaction. “Good.” He placed it on the top of the post.

“Okay, then. Good luck with the fish.” I started to back away.

“There’s another pole.”

“What?” I knew we were alone, but I still believed he must be talking to someone else.

“Grab that pole over there. Come on.”

I was too astonished to argue with him. I rested my coffee mug near his and rushed to the end of the pier where he had pointed to the pole. I returned carrying it like I was holding a sword.

He stared at me. “You ever fished?”

“Not since I was a little kid,” I confessed.

“All right.”

I waited for more instructions, but John didn’t say another word. He reeled his line in before taking mine and attaching bait to the hook. He walked a few paces away and cast it over his shoulder.

“Here.” He handed the rod to me. “Crank it if you get something.”

“I can do that.” I stood next to him, waiting for something to happen. Part of me knew it already was happening whether we caught any fish or not.

The water was bright. I realized why he wore a hat every day. I was thinking about going inside to get my wide-brimmed straw hat I liked to take with me on beach walks. I looked over and saw Dean’s car pulling into the parking lot.

“I need to go see why he’s here,” I explained. I brought the line onto the spool. I didn’t know how long Dean would stay so I returned the fishing rod to the stack of others. “Thanks for the lesson.” I smiled at John as I walked away.

I thought I saw his lips turn upward, but I couldn’t be sure.

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