Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Evan?” she finally whispered.
He lowered his hand from the tree, but he still wasn’t sure he trusted his own knees not to buckle. “Is she . . .”
Noelle nodded slowly. “Yes, Evan, she’s your daughter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Noelle stepped onto the beach where Evan was waiting for her and then approached him slowly, taking the opportunity to watch him without him knowing. A wave crashed, the water rushing forward and washing over his feet. He stood staring out to the horizon, where the sun was just beginning its fiery descent.
She still couldn’t believe he was here, in this place where she’d often stood, especially in the beginning, staring out to the water as she thought of him and wondered how he was. He was as handsome as ever. Time hadn’t changed that. But she hadn’t remembered that their daughter looked as much like him as she did. Callie had simply become herself, and because Evan’s face had been somewhat of a distant memory, she hadn’t realized what a carbon copy she was. Minus her coloring, which was Noelle’s. But the rest? All Evan. No wonder he’d taken one look at their child and known immediately who she was.
He must have heard her feet crunching in the sand as she drew closer, but he didn’t turn, even when she came up right next to him. She followed his gaze to where the silhouette of a singular sailboat crossed in front of the glowing sun.
“It’s peaceful here,” he finally said. “I see why you made it home.” The words were casual, but his voice sounded dull as though he was in a bit of shock. Of course he was. She couldn’t blame him for that. She’d asked him to meet her on the beach so they could talk. She’d needed to let the rest of the staff know she was leaving for the day, and she’d hoped that a few minutes alone on the shore would help him get his bearings.
Instead of addressing the solitude of this private beach, she reached out, putting her hand on his forearm. “Evan—”
“Why?” He turned toward her, her hand falling away, the look on his face so tormented it ripped at her heart. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had a right to know.”
She released a breath, moving her eyes away from his and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know how to explain it—”
“Try, Noelle. Because you at least owe me that.”
She dropped her arms. He was right. She did. She just hadn’t been at all prepared to do so. How could she have known when she woke up that morning that he’d show back up in her life? There was no script from which she might pull, because she’d never imagined this moment. All she had was the truth, in all its shades of gray. “I found out I was pregnant after I moved to South Carolina. I had rented a small apartment and was going to start job hunting . . .” She rubbed at her head as she cast her mind back to that time. She’d still been on such shaky emotional ground. But sitting on the shore each morning and watching the waves come in had begun ministering to her spirit right away. The decision she’d made after that night in San Francisco to move away, to start fresh, suddenly felt destined. She sensed that she was right where she should be.
Noelle sighed. “At first, I was almost in denial about the positive pregnancy test. I got the job at Sweetgrass. I loved it here, right from the beginning. Chantilly is . . . well . . .” She let out a small laugh that faded quickly. “She’s a force. But she made me feel welcomed.” Loved.
Noelle turned to him then, meeting his eyes. “I was going to email you so many times, Evan. I was.” She glanced away. “But then . . . I would feel so afraid. Even more scared than I felt just knowing I was pregnant and alone. The thought of seeing you again . . . I don’t know, it almost felt like . . .”
“Like you’d be traveling backward emotionally.”
She nodded, her heart swelling. He’d been kind to provide that language for her when she was having a hard time finding it herself, and she appreciated it so much. Of course he’d understand that. Maybe he’d thought of her, too, now and again, and maybe he’d felt the same when he had. Maybe each time he pictured her, he saw her in that cage, just like that night in the hotel room. The night they’d made Callie.
“Yes. Only now, it wasn’t only me I was thinking of. I was thinking of you, too, Evan. I really was. I thought about dragging you away from your life again—the one I hoped you were living well. What would it be like for you if you were just finding solid footing, and suddenly you’d have to figure out how to be a dad? We’d already decided that it was in both of our best interests to part ways. And I think we’re probably both better for that,” she finished softly.