forever, even in its weathered condition.
A flicker of hope resonates thro ugh me, praying that maybe if this boardwalk could last an eon of high seas, easterly winds, and merciless rains, then maybe there’s a chance for me too. It’s my hope. My ardent prayer. My silent mantra.
In spite of my anger and self-destructive tendencies, somewhere deep down in the recesses of my soul, I still hope. I’m human and hope is so inherently human that there’s no escaping it. I guess everyone hopes, even widows who wander through life unsure of their place in the world.
In this moment, looking into his knowing eyes, I’d give my next breath to know what Zander hopes for. Somehow it seems like it would be a worthy trade. I don’t know it, but… I do .
Zander’s perceptive gaze lingers a moment longer, then he turns in place and continues down the boardwalk. He steps down from the last plank, makes long strides to the sand-spattered cement patio beneath his home, which rests on stilts, elevating it beyond the reach of storm surge that coastal residents deal with every hurricane season.
I follow silently behind him. A set of wide white stairs lead us to the second level of the house. I tiptoe up the steps behind him, still barefoot and carrying my things in my hand. The stairs open up to the balcony that I’d seen from down on the beach. It’s much larger than I had imagined. This massive balcony does appear to wrap around the entire house, wide and painted pristinely white. White wicker furniture dots the space. Small wicker end tables sit between each set of chairs. I peer up at the lighting above us. Lantern-style light fixtures the same clear blue of the water line the underside of the awning. Wicker benches, matching the chairs and tables, are sporadically placed alongside the railing, looking out towards the water. Comfortable cushions adorn the tops of each bench. He must have lots of gatherings here to have so much seating. I imagine he has quite the circle of friends. He just looks the part of someone who has regular, kickass, slightly swanky parties.
“Wow,” I whisper mostly on reflex , stepping to the railing to look out over the water. It’s gorgeous. The view is spectacular and for right now, I forget how cold I am. I forget how shitty my life has become. I even forget Zander standing near a sliding glass door. I step closer to the railing so that my stomach presses against the wooden banister, rest my palms against the top rail, and draw in the salty breeze.
Just a little north , toward the point, is a lighthouse that appears to be the real deal. I hadn’t really seen it until just now. The oversight is just another indicator that I’m missing so much of what’s right in front of me because I’m too busy licking my wounds. I look out across the horizon, scanning the water as I go. I squint, trying to see as far as I can. It’s so clear today. I must be able to see for miles from here. The water is calm with the exception of normal whitecaps. “You have quite the view, Zander,” I say without turning around.
“I agree.” His voice is smooth and deep , rousing me from my staring. I turn to face him. His dark blue eyes go from me to the water then back to me.
I’m unsure, and I cou ld be hallucinating due to hypothermia or something, but I think he may have been referring to me. I blush, feeling embarrassed and out of place and fucking guilty, like I’m betraying Jake in some adulterous way. I know he’s gone from this earth, but he’s not gone from my heart. He never will be. It makes me pissed off at myself and at Zander for causing these feelings. Irrationality should be my middle name.
I’m not here for this. I’m not here to drool over some stranger. I’m here to see that he ’s alive and that my husband’s heart has gone to a good person who deserved it. I didn’t come to Tybee Island to ogle this god of a man in front of me. I didn’t come here to make subliminal
A flicker of hope resonates thro ugh me, praying that maybe if this boardwalk could last an eon of high seas, easterly winds, and merciless rains, then maybe there’s a chance for me too. It’s my hope. My ardent prayer. My silent mantra.
In spite of my anger and self-destructive tendencies, somewhere deep down in the recesses of my soul, I still hope. I’m human and hope is so inherently human that there’s no escaping it. I guess everyone hopes, even widows who wander through life unsure of their place in the world.
In this moment, looking into his knowing eyes, I’d give my next breath to know what Zander hopes for. Somehow it seems like it would be a worthy trade. I don’t know it, but… I do .
Zander’s perceptive gaze lingers a moment longer, then he turns in place and continues down the boardwalk. He steps down from the last plank, makes long strides to the sand-spattered cement patio beneath his home, which rests on stilts, elevating it beyond the reach of storm surge that coastal residents deal with every hurricane season.
I follow silently behind him. A set of wide white stairs lead us to the second level of the house. I tiptoe up the steps behind him, still barefoot and carrying my things in my hand. The stairs open up to the balcony that I’d seen from down on the beach. It’s much larger than I had imagined. This massive balcony does appear to wrap around the entire house, wide and painted pristinely white. White wicker furniture dots the space. Small wicker end tables sit between each set of chairs. I peer up at the lighting above us. Lantern-style light fixtures the same clear blue of the water line the underside of the awning. Wicker benches, matching the chairs and tables, are sporadically placed alongside the railing, looking out towards the water. Comfortable cushions adorn the tops of each bench. He must have lots of gatherings here to have so much seating. I imagine he has quite the circle of friends. He just looks the part of someone who has regular, kickass, slightly swanky parties.
“Wow,” I whisper mostly on reflex , stepping to the railing to look out over the water. It’s gorgeous. The view is spectacular and for right now, I forget how cold I am. I forget how shitty my life has become. I even forget Zander standing near a sliding glass door. I step closer to the railing so that my stomach presses against the wooden banister, rest my palms against the top rail, and draw in the salty breeze.
Just a little north , toward the point, is a lighthouse that appears to be the real deal. I hadn’t really seen it until just now. The oversight is just another indicator that I’m missing so much of what’s right in front of me because I’m too busy licking my wounds. I look out across the horizon, scanning the water as I go. I squint, trying to see as far as I can. It’s so clear today. I must be able to see for miles from here. The water is calm with the exception of normal whitecaps. “You have quite the view, Zander,” I say without turning around.
“I agree.” His voice is smooth and deep , rousing me from my staring. I turn to face him. His dark blue eyes go from me to the water then back to me.
I’m unsure, and I cou ld be hallucinating due to hypothermia or something, but I think he may have been referring to me. I blush, feeling embarrassed and out of place and fucking guilty, like I’m betraying Jake in some adulterous way. I know he’s gone from this earth, but he’s not gone from my heart. He never will be. It makes me pissed off at myself and at Zander for causing these feelings. Irrationality should be my middle name.
I’m not here for this. I’m not here to drool over some stranger. I’m here to see that he ’s alive and that my husband’s heart has gone to a good person who deserved it. I didn’t come to Tybee Island to ogle this god of a man in front of me. I didn’t come here to make subliminal
Similar Books
