Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
But as we reach the porch and he raises his hand to knock, I realize I’m not nervous anymore. Not really. Whatever happens inside that house, whatever we learn about Victor or the past, we’re in this together now.
17
Jace
We stand on the porch of my mother's house, the afternoon sun warm on my back and the sound of the ocean rolling in beyond the backyard. My hand’s still wrapped around Sadie's, her fingers steady and warm against mine. I’m nervous as hell. I haven’t seen my mother in person in over a year, and the last time we spoke on the phone it was short and surface level. Now I’m showing up unannounced with a woman I’ve known for less than a week but who already feels as if she belongs here with me. The thought makes my chest tight in a way that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with how much Sadie has come to mean to me in such a short time.
Last night was amazing. She had looked at me when she admitted she was falling, and something in my chest cracked wide open.
I squeeze her hand a little tighter as I raise my other hand to knock on the blue door. The sound echoes in the quiet afternoon air. Sadie glances up at me, her eyes soft and sure, and I feel some of the tension ease. I’m glad she’s here. More than glad. She grounds me in a way nothing else has since I saw my father at that restaurant yesterday.
The door opens and my mother steps out onto the porch. She looks older than the last time I saw her, her hair streaked with more gray, lines around her eyes deeper, but her smile is the same warm southern charm that could light up a room. She’s wearing a simple sundress and an apron dusted with flour, and I can’t remember the last time something so ordinary caught my attention this much.
"Jace Hawthorne," she says, her voice full of that familiar drawl. "Well, look what the tide brought in. I wasn’t expecting you, sugar, but I’m sure glad to see you."
Before I can say anything she pulls me into a hug. I let go of Sadie's hand long enough to wrap my arms around her, breathing in the familiar warmth of her embrace. When she pulls back she turns to Sadie, her eyes lighting up with genuine delight.
"And who is this beautiful girl?" she asks, already reaching for Sadie's hands. "Jace has never brought a woman home before. Not once in all these years. You must be something special."
Sadie smiles, that pretty smile that always gets to me, and shakes my mother's hand. "Sadie Wells. It’s nice to meet you, ma'am."
My mother waves a hand. "None of that ma'am business. Call me Ellen. Or Mom if you’re feeling brave. Come on in, both of you. I have sweet tea and cookies fresh out of the oven."
She ushers us toward the door, still chattering about how nice it is to have company and how she was thinking about calling me last week but got busy with the garden club. I’m about to follow her inside when the door opens wider and another figure steps out.
My father.
Victor. Or Billy Hawthorne. He stands there in the doorway, older than I remember but unmistakable. Salt and pepper hair. The same strong jaw. The same eyes that used to look at me with pride when I hit a home run or fixed something around the house. He’s wearing a simple button down shirt and khakis, as if he belongs here. Like he’s been here all along.
I freeze. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I’m surprised Sadie can’t hear it. Shock crashes through me. He’s here. At my mother's house. Acting as if this is all fucking normal. I squeeze Sadie's hand harder, probably too hard, but she doesn’t pull away. She steps closer, her shoulder brushing mine in silent support.
My mother stops short. “I can explain," she says.
“You’d better.”
“Why don’t you come on and get settled. Something to drink, Sadie?”
Sadie nods. “Sure.”
I can’t stop staring at my father.
Billy. My father's real name. Not Victor. The name he has been using in Sunbreak Harbor. The name that let him disappear from us for years.
I can’t move. I don’t know whether to hug him or hit him. Part of me wants to pull him into my arms and never let go, the relief of seeing him alive after all this time overwhelming. The other part wants to shove him against the wall and demand answers. Why did he leave? Why did he let us think he was dead? What the hell has he been doing all these years?
My mother keeps fussing, her southern charm in full force as she guides Sadie inside with promises of tea and stories about when I was little. Sadie glances back at me, her eyes asking if I’m okay without saying a word. I manage a small nod and follow them in, my father’s presence heavy behind me.