The Secret by Nora Hawkins

Author:Nora Hawkins [Hawkins, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub

CHAPTER 9

Mark

As usual, Mark woke at dawn to the sound of the gulls, but today, for the first time in years, he was looking forward to the day.

He wanted to take Marigold sailing.

The impulse surprised him—he hadn’t taken the boat out in months, maybe longer. The sailboat sat in its slip at the marina, maintained by a service he paid handsomely to keep it ready for excursions he never took. Another piece of his life left pristine and unused, like the pool, like most of the rooms in the house.

But yesterday, watching his daughter by the pool, hearing her talk about the places she’d been with Catherine, something shifted. A door opened. A possibility he hadn’t considered in years: that maybe it really wasn’t too late to reclaim the parts of himself he’d buried.

The parts that had loved the ocean. That had dreamed of a life spent on the water instead of in boardrooms.

After he showered, he made coffee, set out fruit and fresh bagels—at least this morning he hadn’t gone overboard on the breakfast spread.

He stood at the kitchen window watching the harbor turn from gray to gold as the sun rose. The water was calm this morning, barely a ripple disturbing its surface. Perfect sailing weather.

His phone buzzed with emails—David checking in, telling him to enjoy his time off, that he’d earned it. Mark read it, then deliberately set the phone face-down on the counter.

No work today. His first vacation in years. Today was for his daughter.

The thought still felt strange. Foreign. His daughter. A young woman he’d known for only a few days, who was upstairs sleeping in his guest room, who had Catherine’s eyes and her smile and a grief so profound it radiated from her like heat.

Who was too thin and too pale and got tired too easily, though she tried to hide it.

Mark pushed that thought away. She was grieving. Of course she was exhausted. Of course she wasn’t eating properly. It had only been a month since Catherine died. These things took time.

He heard footsteps on the stairs around eight-thirty. Turned to find Marigold padding into the kitchen in pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her face still soft with sleep.

“Morning,” she said, covering a yawn. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Help yourself.” Mark gestured to the pot. “Mugs are in the cabinet above.”

She poured herself a cup, added cream and sugar, took a sip and made a small sound of contentment. “This is really good coffee.”

“I may not cook, but I know how to make coffee.” He watched her lean against the counter, cradling the mug in both hands. She looked younger this morning. Less burdened. “How did you sleep?”

“Really well.” She looked surprised by her own admission. “That bed is incredible. And the sound of the water—I didn’t realize how much I missed living near the water until last night.”

“Portland’s not near any water?”

“We had the Willamette River, but it’s not the same as an ocean.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.