Page 6 of The Rehoboth Retreat
“Hypercholesteremia? Seriously?” I stammered.
Dr. Harris gave me a kind, measured look. “It’s not uncommon, especially in your age group. It means your cholesterol is higher than what’s considered healthy. Your LDL and triglyceride levels could be lower. It’s a risk factor for heart disease, but the good news is it’s manageable. We just need to get your levels under control.”
I felt my chest tighten. “I… I don’t understand. I’ve been so careful. I eat well, I work out. I’ve been taking care of myself for years.”
Dr. Harris nodded. “I know, Miles. But sometimes, no matter how well we take care of ourselves, our bodies just don’t cooperate. Genetics can play a big role in this. We can manage it with the right treatment.”
I felt the ground beneath me shift. Here I was—vulnerable.
“I… I don’t know,” I muttered. “I’m forty-one. I shouldn’t be dealing with this.”
“We’ll start you on Rosuvastatin, just a small dose. And I also want to prescribe Omeprazole for the frequent heartburn you mentioned in yourpaperwork. It’ll help with the digestive issues.”
I stared at him. “Heartburn? Cholesterol? Medication? Is this really happening?”
Dr. Harris leaned forward slightly. “We can manage this. You just have to stick to the plan. Take the medications, monitor your diet, stay active, and we’ll get your cholesterol under control.”
I exhaled shakily. I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt like I had lost something—my sense of invincibility.
“Okay,” I said finally.
Dr. Harris smiled. “Good. Just take it one step at a time.”
I walked out of his office feeling like the floor beneath me had cracked open. The divorce was one thing, but this? This was a new level of stress. The weight of it all felt like it was too much to bear.
I needed a break. I needed to get away, even if just for a weekend. I pulled into my driveway, looking at my meticulously landscaped garden. But today, it felt like a mere illusion of peace. I needed something new.
Rehoboth Beach.
I hadn’t been to the beach house in a while. But that’s exactly why I needed to go. It would be an easy choice. Just me, the beach, and the sound of the ocean.
But I knew that going to the Rehoboth Beach house would constantly remind me of the memories Owen and I had created there. That was the last thing I needed while on vacation.
As I entered my house, I headed toward the kitchen and leaned over the quartz countertop, pulling out my phone and dialing my mother.
“Mom, I need a break,” I blurted out. “I was thinking of going to Rehoboth Beach, but I need someplace far better than my current house. A whole change of scene would be ideal. Do you know of any good places to stay? I need somewhere huge and luxurious, preferably on the beach. I know you know people…”
“Well, darling,” she began. “I have a friend with a beautiful part-time beach house on Ocean Drive in North Shore. I believe I showed you pictures of it a while back. It’s magnificent—they paid $8.5 million for it and completely renovated it. I can ask if it’s available.”
My heart picked up speed. Who could forget that stunning piece of property? I imagined it now—the soft blue shakes and tan siding, the turrets, the sprawling windows. This was precisely the escape I needed.
“That sounds wonderful,” I replied.
“Let me check with her,” Cecilia continued. “It’s right on the beach, just north of Henlopen Acres. Very exclusive community, you know.”
Exclusive was exactly what I needed.
We continued discussing logistics, and I began to picture the weekend. Just a break. I could focus on relaxation without the weight of the divorce or my health problems hanging over me.
“Alright, let’s make it happen,” I said, imagining the weekend. “See if we can make it for four days. I’m thinking I want to arrive on a Thursday and leave the following Sunday. I’ll plan the meals, the dinners, everything. I can use it as an opportunity to promote my lifestyle blog too. Fresh seafood, maybe a classic French dish, breakfast on the patio with mimosas, and my famous Bloody Marys you love — it’s going to be spectacular.”
The thought of planning every detail gave me something to focus on. The house would be stunning, the meals superb, and the beach weather comforting.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Cecilia reassured me. “I’ll get in touch with her and let you know.”
“Thanks, mom. You always know how to come through.”
We ended our call, and I could not help but already begin to feel revitalized. This trip was exactly what I needed. A real escape.
