Revel (Second Chance Romance #1 - Alison Ryan

Revel By Alison Ryan

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for

your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you share it. Copyright © 2016 Alison Ryan. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or

portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author. Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations

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Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Ten Years Ago Chapter Four Chapter Five

Chapter Six Ten Years Ago Chapter Seven Ten Years Ago Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Ten Years Ago Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Ten Years Ago

Chapter Twelve Ten Years Ago Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Six Weeks Earlier Chapter Fifteen Ten Years Ago Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen Epilogue The Mentor Excerpt

Chapter One Declan DeGraff was hungover. It was the kind of hungover he hadn’t been since his fraternity days at the College of Charleston. And that had been almost a decade ago. After graduating, he’d grown up a bit and only imbibed when in the

presence of his business colleagues; to network and close deals. And it was always bourbon for him. Beer was for college kids and shrimpers. And he was no longer the former and never the latter. Returning to Charleston, however, meant a return to old vices. He stood up and immediately smashed his head against the ceiling above him. Right. He’d forgotten he was

on his yacht. In a bunk. Naked. He was really too old for this shit. “Dec-laaaaaaan,” a faux highpitched voice yelled down to him from the deck. “Get your drunk ass up. Your daddy is calling your phone.” Ugh, Declan thought. His father was the last person he needed to hear from at the moment. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” Declan

said, jumping down from the bunk, still naked. He noticed two slender girls were sleeping on the bottom, their legs intertwined and their breasts mashed against each other. One was a blonde and the other a red head. And he couldn’t for the life of him remember either of their names. It didn’t matter. They’d be gone in a few minutes anyway.

His best friend Winston Ravenel handed him his buzzing iPhone. “You look like shit,” he told Declan. “Thanks,” Declan replied. “Can you get those girls dressed and out of here? I want to go to brunch. I need to eat.” “Why can’t they come with?” Winston asked. Declan gave him a look and Winston dropped the subject. Declan didn’t take women to

brunch. He took them to bed. Declan answered the phone, “Hey, Dad. Everything okay?” “Where are you?” his father, Henry DeGraff, bellowed into the phone. “I’ve been texting and calling you all morning.” “Well, I’m on the boat,” Declan said, trying to be patient. “Why? I told you, your nurse was coming in…”

“I just fired her,” Henry said. “She was incompetent.” Declan was angry now, “Fired her? Today was her first day. You’ve fired every nurse we’ve hired in the last month. This is getting out of control. You will not fire her. I’m not dealing with this bullshit, okay? I have a life to live and handle and you’re making that very difficult.”

“Oh, so sorry Declan. Didn’t mean for my pancreatic-fucking-cancer to be such a burden on your life. You know, the one you still get to live? With all the money your family made for you.” Declan sighed. They had this same exact conversation every damn day lately. “May I remind you,” Declan said. “That our family money is now actually

money I’ve made. That our old, aristocratic money ran out and I went and made us more so you can have all the nurses and care and morphine in the world! Or is your memory going, too? Because if that’s the case, I can always put you in a home- “ “Stop.” His father said it every time. Before Declan would say something he regretted. It was one his

father’s few mercies. They were both silent. Declan spoke more softly now, “Dad, I’m just asking that you give the nurse a chance. And if she’s that bad, I’ll get rid of her, okay? But we’re running out of nurses, Dad. Charleston isn’t a major metropolis.” He heard his father relenting, “Okay, son. But I don’t have to like her.”

“Dad, you’ve never liked anyone. Why start now?” They hung up. Declan walked over to the side of the boat. It was docked in Charleston Harbor, right next to the Charleston Yacht Club, where he planned on having brunch in just a few moments. He watched as the two leggy coeds disembarked and sashayed their way

down the plank and onto the sidewalk that led to the stairs that went up to the parking lot. He noticed one of them had a magnificent ass and suddenly he remembered a little bit about last night, just enough to put him in a slightly better mood. “Hair of the dog?” Winston asked, handing Declan a glass of Maker’s. “Thought it would help.”

“Always does,” Declan said, taking a long drink. “Hey, another thing,” Winston said. “What’s up?” “Can you please put some pants on?”

Chapter Two Charlotte had been driving for two hours. She’d left Nashville that morning after a brief goodbye with her sister, Vanessa, punctuated by a promise to be back in a week, two weeks at the most. She hated lying to her younger sibling.

“Why Charleston?” Vanessa asked. “You haven’t been back there since college. Right?” Vanessa leaned against Charlotte’s very sensible Volkswagen Passat, her hand shielding her freckled face from the Tennessee sun. “Right,” Charlotte said, shoving the last of her suitcases into the back seat. “So why go there now?” Vanessa asked. “It’s not about…”

Charlotte slammed the back door shut and started walking toward the other side of the car. “What?” Charlotte said. “About who? Declan?” It had been years since she’d spoken his name out loud to anyone. “Yeah, I mean,” Vanessa couldn’t look her in the eye. “I just don’t know why else you’d go. That city is him.”

Charlotte sighed, “It was almost ten years ago, V. If I’m not over Declan yet, that would be pretty pathetic. Besides, I don’t think he lives there anymore. Another perk of going.” “So you keep up with him?” Vanessa was smirking now. “No,” Charlotte said, emphatic. “He was in the New York Times a couple months ago. When he sold his company.

He’s now one of the youngest self-made billionaires in the country.” Charlotte thought about the longform interview on the front of the New York Times’ business section. She’d been in her office at the hospital, eating a bagel, turning the pages of the paper over to look for the style section when his face suddenly appeared and she’d almost choked. There was Declan

DeGraff, all six-foot-three inches of handsome leaning against a sleek, black Range Rover, his arms crossed. He smiled at her from the photo almost as if to say, “Miss me?” She’d thrown the paper across the room, but then picked it up and folded it, right through his picture, and hidden it in her desk the past few weeks. Whenever she was feeling out of sorts, or like one

of her panic attacks was on the horizon, she’d peek into her desk and look at his knowing smile. For some reason it could still comfort her. Despite the past. “Declan DeGraff is a billionaire now?” Vanessa guffawed. “Is he married?” “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Charlotte said. “But the interview said

he lived in California. Probably with a harem for all I know. It doesn’t matter. He has nothing to do with why I’m going.” Vanessa sighed, “I just don’t understand any of this. You worked so hard to become an obstetrician. You loved your job, you helped people. And now you’re suddenly referring your patients to other doctors and giving up

all your plans to take some random trip to Charleston. I mean, are you okay? Is this about turning 30? Are you having a crisis?” Charlotte laughed, “I’m not afraid of aging. You should know me better than that.” “Then why?” Vanessa’s eyes were wide and on the verge of tears. “I’m your sister. We’ve never gone more than

like four days without seeing each other. And Dad…” “I have to do this for my own reasons,” Charlotte said. “One day you’ll understand. “I doubt that,” Vanessa muttered under her breath. “This just isn’t you, Charlotte. You’re the one that stays. You’re steadfast and solid and this is completely out of character for you.”

Charlotte sighed, “I’m not a robot. I’m a person. And I need to find my way out of a thing. Okay? You trust me?” Charlotte was in front of her sister now, her arms outstretched. “I love you, Vanessa,” she said. “To the moon and back.” Vanessa paused, still sore over what was happening. But she couldn’t resist a hug from the Sanders sister that wasn’t

known for being the most warmly affectionate of the two of them. Vanessa wrapped her slender arms around Charlotte’s shoulders, “To the moon and back.”

********

Just hearing Vanessa say Declan’s name out loud had shaken Charlotte up.

Of the two huge ghosts in her life, he was the one still walking around, still alive, and the memory of him haunted her ever since the last time she saw him. But this wasn’t really the time to think about that. She had hundreds of miles in the car ahead of her. Nashville was a good eight and half hours from Charleston. It would be a long day. She had been driving for two hours

without the radio, lost in her thoughts from the past and her time with the only man she’d ever loved. As much as she wanted to protest that she hadn’t considered him when planning this trip, she couldn’t. Vanessa was right. Declan was Charleston. And the DeGraffs were Charleston royalty. With Declan the sole heir. But, in truth, Charleston was so

much more than any of them. Or all of them. Charlotte had always been drawn to the Holy City. She, Vanessa, and their parents had vacationed there when she was young, always renting the same house on Folly Beach. They’d get up early and go to the pier every day and watch the sun rise together. Eat crab legs and all you can eat shrimp at The Crab

Shack. Her mother would take the girls downtown to King Street and they’d wander in and out of shops while eating large Styrofoam cups full of Italian Ice that they’d buy from a vendor on the corner. It was so hot that the ice would turn into “sugar soup” as her mother called it, before they could even finish it all. The city represented both the best

times of her life and the worst. When Charlotte was thirteen years old, they’d come to Folly Beach later in the summer than usual, in August, right before school was starting up. The high season was over by then and their rental was a little cheaper. On their first night there, Charlotte’s mother said she needed to go to the store.

“I have such a headache,” she’d said. “And I forgot to pack Tylenol. Your daddy is sleeping the drive off so I’m going to slip out and pick some up. I’ll be gone just a few. Charlotte, do you want to go with me?” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Uh, no thanks. Vanessa just painted my nails. I want them to dry.” “Okay, baby,” her mother said,

kissing her on the forehead. “You stay here and dry those little toes of yours. I love you. See you soon.” Charlotte thought about that conversation all the time. At least once a week. She thought about how if she’d only said yes and taken her time to put her shoes on, or grab her purse, or really add any time to her mother’s journey, the whole tragedy could have been

prevented. The sudden, tragic things are often determined by chance and seconds of time. Her mother had left to go to the store and had not returned. On her way back she’d been t-boned at a stop light, waiting to turn onto the road that led to their cottage. The driver who hit her had fled the

scene. Charlotte remembered someone telling her that her mother had felt no pain. That the accident had taken her instantly. It was what was told to comfort her and her father, who had been destroyed by the news, and angry that she’d gone alone at night to the store. Her mother’s entire life was lived just to end over a tension headache.

“You should have woken me up!” he yelled at Charlotte that terrible night. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Charlotte tearfully said. “Daddy, it’s not her fault,” Vanessa defended her sister. “Mom was a grown woman. It was a horrible accident.” But what was said couldn’t be unsaid. Her father never again set foot in

Charleston, or even in the state of South Carolina. And when Charlotte decided to go to College of Charleston he’d been angry and confused. “Why would you want to go to college there?” he’d said. “After what we lost in that damn town? How can you go back?” Charlotte could never have explained it. But for her Charleston was

the great ellipsis of her life. In a way she would always feel that was where her mother still was, trapped in a time and place where things had been good and right with the world. She could also never have been able to describe it, but Charlotte was drawn to it. Like an invisible force was beckoning her back. For reasons unknown to her then, something was

waiting for her in Charleston. Charlotte shook away the memory as she drove down I-26. She turned on the radio and switched through a million gospel and country stations until she gave up and threw in a Ray Lamontagne CD. His soulful voice filled the inside of her car and for a moment Charlotte allowed herself to forget about what had

happened years ago and stop worrying about the future. For now, it was just her and the music, and her trying her best to hang on to the present and forget the past. For now.

Chapter Three Declan’s summer in Charleston had not been part of his master plan. And what was the plan? What it had always been – make money, travel the world, suck the marrow out of life, and forget about the past. And each day and year he’d gotten further away from that

past had been such a relief. The pain from it still shrouded him, but the baggage was getting lighter and lighter with each passing day. Until his father got sick. So he’d come back, as a good son does. And as an only child, he had little choice. There were no other DeGraffs left to take care of the patriarch, so Declan returned home for the summer so

he wouldn’t have to live with anymore regret in his life. When he’d first seen his father, it had taken everything in him not to show the shock he felt at how skinny the old man had become. Cancer was insidious enough, but pancreatic cancer was a whole other monster. Henry DeGraff had always been a barrel-chested, powerhouse of a man. But his illness had

turned him into something different. He was incredibly thin, his skin sallow, blue veins forming rivers up his scrawny arms and legs. Declan had needed a moment by himself to take in what he’d just seen. His father would not be getting out of this battle alive. His father’s mansion on Meeting Street was almost two hundred years old

and badly in need of renovations. Declan had planned on redoing it completely as a surprise for Henry, but once he’d realized how sick his father was, that plan went out the window. Why redo something his father would never live to see to completion? It was all too much to take in. Not to mention his father being ornery as hell and firing every nurse Declan hired for

him. So Declan had escaped to his yacht the past week and tried to drink his troubles away. He hadn’t been one to look for answers in the bottom of a bottle in almost a decade, but this seemed like as good a time as any to become a borderline drunk. Declan had enjoyed his brunch at the yacht club with Winston, ending their meal with one of the best Bloody Mary’s

he’d ever consumed. “You heading home?” Winston asked as they walked out into the parking lot towards Declan’s Range Rover. “Hell no,” Declan replied. “I was thinking of heading to Sullivan’s to check out the new digs.” Declan had bought a home on Sullivan’s Island shortly after he arrived and realized the gravity of Henry’s

situation, and that he might be in the Holy City for more than a couple days; or even months. The yacht was okay for a little while, but Declan needed space and a view. The 6,000 square foot beach front mansion on Sullivan’s provided both. “You closed on it already?” Winston asked. “Yep. It was vacant and I paid cash.

So she’s all mine,” Declan smiled as he put a pair of Aviator sunglasses over his blue eyes. “Must be nice,” Winston chuckled. “That house is one of the most expensive on the Charleston market.” “Was the most,” Declan corrected him. “But it’s all relative.” “When you’re worth almost two billion dollars I guess spending eight

figures on a house is just a drop in the bucket,” Winston pulled the Audi keys out of his pocket. “You’ve come a long way since our Kappa Sig days.” Declan shrugged, “I would hope so.” Winston slapped his friend on the back, “And you’ve gone through a lot of ladies since your Charlotte days.” Just hearing her name almost made

Declan’s heart stop. “Why would you even mention her?” Declan asked. “That was almost ten years ago.” Winston could tell he’d overstepped, “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize it was still a sore subject.” Now Declan was pissed, “Who said it was? It’s just fucked up to mention her when she hasn’t been a part of my life

for so long.” Winston’s smile faded, “I’m sorry, man. Really. I shouldn’t have mentioned her.” Declan sighed, “Try to remember not to do it again.” And with that, Declan turned away from his car and headed back toward the dock and the yacht, where a whole wet bar of bourbon awaited him.

Ten Years Ago… Charlotte Sanders wasn’t in the best mood the day she first met Declan DeGraff. First of all, it was hotter than Hell itself. By late May in Charleston, South

Carolina, being outside is like trying to walk and breathe through wet cotton. Second of all, she’d just been advised by her roommate that she was going to need to find a new place to live. Charlotte’s roommate, Allyn Legare, was an uppity sorority girl who wanted to live with her boyfriend for the summer. “I mean, your lease is up anyway,”

Allyn had said. “And Russell and I are ready to take it to the next level, you know?” “I mean, you’re giving me no notice,” Charlotte said, trying not to raise her voice to match how she felt inside. “If I’d I would have to move out, I would have made arrangements months ago. It’s going to be almost impossible to find a place now.”

Allyn shrugged, “Sorry. It is what it is, you know?” Charlotte had never been a violent person, but she wanted to punch Allyn in the face. “Our place is two bedrooms,” Charlotte said. “I’m assuming you two would share one. I don’t mind him moving in, it would actually make rent cheaper for everyone if there was three

of us.” Allyn looked at Charlotte confused, “You know I don’t pay my own rent. Daddy handles all that. Besides, I want to turn your room into a big walk-in closet.” Charlotte sighed. Of course. Girls like Allyn didn’t have to worry about the same things girls like Charlotte did. “Okay,” Charlotte said, standing up

from the futon they’d been sitting on. “Guess I should start figuring this out.” “Yeah, sorry,” Allyn said, sounding anything but.

********

At the same moment, a few blocks over, Declan DeGraff was visiting his parents.

He was basking on the balcony of his parents' house on Meeting Street. It was May and his exams had ended the week before. Declan was a free man for the summer. His father had flown out of town with some of his old fraternity brothers for a "man's weekend away" to Key West. Declan’s mother, Anna DeGraff, sat next to him in a wicker chair, sipping

her sweet tea, fanning her perfectly applied face, talking about how much she was going to get done while her husband was gone. They were sitting there, a beautiful cliché of a moneyed, southern family. "Saylor called today," Mama said, "She called yesterday too. When are you going to call that poor girl back?" Saylor Embers was Declan’s on-

again-off-again girlfriend. He had known her since before they were born, practically. Their mothers had gone to the University of Alabama together and both married old Charleston money. It was all very socially incestuous and forced, Saylor and Declan's relationship. She was a beautiful girl, yes. Probably one of the prettiest in South Carolina. She had legs for miles. Men would have

turned their lives inside out just for her to smile in their direction. People couldn't help but look at her. She was raised to be admired, but at the same time to pretend she didn't notice. But she knew. Which led to her having an almost insufferable personality in private. Over the past six months it had become completely horrible to be around her, alone anyway.

Thus, the present "off" status of their relationship. "I don't know. Maybe never. Maybe in five minutes. You know how it is with us," Declan said. His mother did know. Just this past Christmas she had to deal with Saylor's debutante ball. The event had made it clear to everyone that if Saylor was this demanding and monstrous for a damn coming-out party,

she would be a beast whenever her wedding day approached. It was then that Declan knew he did not want to be on the other end of that deal. So he’d cooled it off with her. Pretty only gets you so far. I think that's something women don't always realize, Declan thought. Being beautiful is a big, huge deal. But being pleasant to be around eventually becomes just as important.

Particularly when you're the level of turbo bitch that Saylor could be. "Well. Try to get back to her. I’m tired of screening my calls." "I'll text her later. I don't know why she's calling the house." They both sat quietly while a horse drawn carriage click-clacked by the house. Tourists in chinos, polo’s, and boat shoes sweated and snapped photos

as the driver of the carriage lectured them on the age of the Vanderpage home (the DeGraff’s neighbors). "It's the largest private residence in Charleston. A wedding gift for..." His voice trailed off as they sauntered by. Declan always felt so bad for the poor horses that had to pull those pasty people down this street every day. It couldn't be a fun gig in life.

It was the perfect day, other than the suffocating humidity. The plantationstyle fans hummed above their very privileged heads. The DeGraffs’ housekeeper, Antonia, was setting out cold cuts in the kitchen. Anna DeGraff stirred the sweating pitcher of tea between them on what was a very overpriced serving cart Declan’s dad had bid too much on at one of his

Sotheby auctions. "You haven't really made plans for this summer, have you?" Anna's voice was slow and sweet. Declan watched as she tried to discreetly pour gin in her tea. "Not so much. I’ll probably spend a bit of time at Sullivan’s,” he stretched his well-muscled calves and yawned. “Or just nap the months away.”

“You know, the house on Sullivan’s is getting renovated this summer, sugar. Didn’t Daddy tell you?” Anna crossed her ankles. “I don’t know why he thought summer of all times would be a good time for that, but such is the way of your daddy.” Well, hell. The Sullivan’s Island house was the DeGraffs’ mansion on the beach, about 20 minutes from the

Meeting Street house. Declan had spent every summer since birth lounging on the deck and shouting at beautiful women from the beachside pool. His Labor Day party at the end of summer was the event of the season. He hadn’t expected the renovations to be this summer. He’d just assumed they wouldn’t start until the fall. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“Have they started yet?” Maybe he could have Dad postpone the work. Declan didn’t know what his father could be thinking. He knew Declan pretty much lived full-time at Sullivan’s and Isle of Palms in the summer time. “They started two weeks ago,” Anna burst his bubble. “I went by just the other day. All the floors are ripped up to hell.”

Declan stood up and looked over the balcony onto Meeting Street. A couple stood kissing in front of the Vanderpage gate. He’d seen that scene hundreds of times. Kissing couples, newlyweds, elderly couples, gay couples. People saw that gate and started dreaming about what it must be like to live in an old southern mansion, with no worries, the love of their life by

their side. Declan didn’t have to dream about it. He’d been living it his whole life. He couldn’t complain. It wasn’t all that horrible. There were worse destinies to have in life than being an old money, southern male. Much worse. He tried not to take it for granted like so many of his buddies did. If he feared anything, it was becoming one of those men who feel

entitled, who enter places expecting to be known and catered to. “I don’t mean to sound like an entitled rich kid but… I wish someone had told me that. All my buddies were planning on coming up for the fourth.” Anna stared at Declan over the glass that she had just started refilling, “Well, I am sure y’all can come up with another plan. The world is at your

Sperry–clad feet after all.” Declan smiled, “I sound like a spoiled ass, huh?” “Kind of,” his mother winked at him. “But that’s probably my fault. You’re my only baby and I’ve never wanted you to feel deprived.” Declan sighed, “I suppose if not having a beach home for the summer is my biggest problem, I should probably

reevaluate what I call problems.” Anna put down her tea and stared at her son, “Since when did you get so selfaware?” Declan shrugged, “I don’t know. Those bleeding heart liberal professors of mine must be getting into my head.” Declan winked at Anna and she laughed. “Don’t let your daddy hear that,” Anna said. “He’ll stop donating.”

A breeze whipped by the porch, making the Spanish moss that hung from the live oaks in their yard sway. It was a perfect moment and Declan couldn’t help but be moved at the beauty surrounding him. That included his mother. Declan adored his mother and was in many ways the only person who seemed to understand her. Despite the

privilege and the money, his mother was like a character out of a Tennessee Williams play. There was a darkness and melancholy to her under the charming socialite disposition. Particularly in the last few years; Anna DeGraff was sneaking a lot of gin into her tea lately and Declan had found more pill bottles than a CVS in her bathroom when searching for her hidden bourbon

stash. He’d confronted her immediately, “Momma. Why do you have so many prescriptions? Why do you need painkillers? And all the benzos… I mean, you have more meds than what any one person should ever need in a lifetime.” Declan had seen many of his fraternity brothers playing around with

heavy prescription pills and it never led to anything good. It alarmed him that his mother had any of this stuff in the house. Not that Declan was against the occasional recreational partaking of an illegal substance, but this scared the shit out of him. And most of the bottles only had half the prescription amount in them, so it was clear she was taking them. Anna had become

uncharacteristically angry at Declan, “You need to mind your own damn business, son. What are you doing going through my things?” “Does Dad know about this?” Declan asked, his voice cold. “Does he have any idea?” Anna’s eyes filled with tears, “There you go judging me. You don’t know what I go through every day. The

painkillers help the kind of pain that can’t heal or get fixed. They help me get through the pain of living! And my benzos help me sleep. So don’t you accuse and judge and persecute me, Declan Seamus DeGraff. Jesus says don’t throw stones.” Declan sighed, “I don’t remember Jesus saying that it was okay to be a junkie.”

For the first time ever, Anna slapped him. She’d never laid a hand on him, not in the entirety of his life, but she’d smacked him hard across the cheek in that moment. And then swiftly burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “It’s just so much harder than people know. If only people knew what happens in my head every day… They’d leave me be.”

Declan was in shock. The sting of her slap wasn’t what hurt him. Seeing her vulnerable and sobbing in front of him is what truly killed him. They had never spoken again about that day. She’d promised to try to be better about her pills and booze, but assured Declan she wasn’t addicted to anything and that she could stop at any time, if she wanted to.

“I just never want to,” she admitted. “They keep me happy. And don’t you know how important it is to your daddy that I appear happy at all times?” Declan was the only one that knew this side of his mother. She had her bad days, but also, like that day on the porch, she had many great days. That’s what he tried to focus on. “Well,” Declan said. “I think I’m

going for a run.” Anna sipped her tea, “Antonia just set up lunch. Aren’t you hungry?” Declan leaned down and kissed his mother on the head, “I’ll eat after. I won’t be gone too long. It’s just a gorgeous day and I haven’t run the bridge in a while.” The Ravenel Bridge was a large white beacon of hope that crossed over

from Charleston to Mt Pleasant. It had a runner’s path and Declan tried to jog it every other day or so. “It’s so hot, baby. Take some water. I don’t want you passing out,” Anna said. “I’ll be fine,” Declan said. “I run it all the time. I need to do some thinking. Decide how to plan my summer without the Sullivan’s house.”

Anna laughed, “Oh! To have such dilemmas! Okay, sweet baby. You run and I’ll sit here and enjoy this day, this tea, and a sandwich.” Declan nodded, “You do that.” He walked back to his room to change into his running shorts and a tshirt. Part of him thought about not doing the run, it really was hot. But for whatever reason, he pressed

forward with it. He’d later say it was as if something was pulling him toward that bridge. And that something was Charlotte Sanders.

********

Charlotte hadn’t known where to go or what to do after her talk with Allyn. It

was her day off from her job as a server at the Dixie Garden, a soup and salad place off of Church Street that catered to college students and young professionals. She worked there as much as she could when she wasn’t in class, and her hope was that now that school was out, she could pick up some more shifts. But now she didn’t even have a

place to live past the next couple of weeks, and her stress levels were beyond anything she had experienced since she’d first moved to Charleston. Part of her wondered if she should just go back home to Nashville, quit while she was ahead. But she was determined not to do that. She’d made the decision to move and go to school here, and she didn’t

want to not finish what she started. That wasn’t the type of person she was. She just needed to clear her head so she could think of a good plan to stay here for the summer. The thought of going back to Nashville with her tail between her legs and the sound of her father saying, “I told you so” was enough to inspire her to at least try to figure a way out of this dilemma.

A walk sounded like a good way to clear her head. She knew just the place. She’d often walked over the Ravenel Bridge, or the Cooper River Bridge as some locals still called it, to do her heavy thinking. It was a beautiful white passage that joined the peninsula of Charleston to the island of Mt Pleasant. It was grand and gorgeous, and at its apex provided her with incredible

views of the river, Fort Sumter, and Charleston Harbor. Charlotte knew it was a long walk, a couple miles at least, but she had all the time in the world, and her apartment was the last place she wanted to be right now. As she walked, she thought about what it was that had drawn her to this city in the first place. Her father had

never understood why she’d want to go back to a place that held so much pain for all of them. As far as he was concerned, the city of Charleston was cursed, and he refused to ever visit Charlotte there, no matter how much she would have liked him to. Charlotte supposed part of it was that her mother’s death was still such a mystery. They had never found out who

had hit her and fled; there had been no witnesses and no one had come forward with any information. It killed her to know that there would never be justice for her mother and by proxy, for her family. Charlotte struggled with that, and maybe part of her felt if they stayed in this city, if they showed the town they weren’t afraid of it, they could somehow be presented with the answers the

Sanders family was so desperate to know. But Charlotte knew that, in reality, it was ridiculous to think they would ever know what happened. It had been almost 7 years and there were still no answers. Her mother’s ashes sat in a vase back in Nashville, one that stayed right by her father’s bedside, something he saw every morning when he woke up to a life

without the woman he had loved so much. Charlotte and Vanessa had walked on egg shells around him since that night, afraid to disappoint him in any way after what he’d lost. Maybe that was another reason Charlotte had to leave him. She couldn’t breathe in a house full of such anguish. And she knew where she’d chosen to go, her father would never

follow. But now she was fucking it up. As she walked up the Ravenel from East Bay she could feel tears coming down her cheeks. She brushed them away, embarrassed to be showing such demonstrative emotion in a public place. Sorority girls ran in packs by her, their ponytails swinging behind them, sweet smiles on their faces. They were so

happy and Charlotte envied that; beyond the privilege they had, she envied their contentment. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to know what that was. And they had each other. And Charlotte had no one. Dammit, she thought. This walk was supposed to help me feel better, not make me have a nervous breakdown. Once she reached the middle of the

bridge, she sat down on one of the benches overlooking Charleston Harbor. A pair of mothers with jogging strollers sat adjacent to her, both blathering on about disposable versus cloth diapering. The discussion seemed curiously heated and Charlotte was tempted to join in, just to see what the big deal was. She was just so desperate to talk to someone, anyone. To be seen.

But instead she looked out onto the harbor and thought about how much she wished her mother was here. That thought crossed her mind at least a couple times a week, but it had been crossing her mind almost hourly the last month or so. She’d see girls around campus walking with their parents, or sometimes just their mothers, and a pain would hit her heart. She’d never know

what it was like to talk to her mother about the things happening in her life, or to get her advice that only a mother can give you. The tears were coming again and she was positive the stroller moms were looking at her now. It was time to walk back and get some much-needed sleep. Facing Allyn and figuring out the living situation could wait until tomorrow.

She stood up to start walking back, and all of a sudden she heard someone say, “Hey, watch it…” and she was knocked over, catching herself with her arms, but not before they skidded across the cement of the walkway. “Shit,” she said, pain shooting through the scrapes. “What the hell?” “Are you okay?” a male voice said. “I’m sorry, it was bad timing, I was

running by, and you stood up and we collided…” She turned to see who was speaking and that’s when she first laid eyes on Declan DeGraff. He was shirtless, and his tan pectorals had a sheen of sweat across them. His hair was “ash blond” as Vanessa, her sister, would have called it, and it was wet from perspiration. His

face was handsome, his blue eyes concerned over her welfare. He looked like the type of guy that Allyn would have fawned over, a loud and mean party guy screaming at passersby on King Street on Friday night after drinking too much. But his eyes were kind. They didn’t match the rest of him. “Sorry,” Charlotte said, gingerly

accepting his offered hand so she could stand back up. “I wasn’t looking.” “It’s just as much my fault,” he said, smiling now. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” she said, looking down at her hands. They were bleeding. “Shit!” he said. “I feel terrible. You’re bleeding.” Charlotte shook her head, “It’s not a big deal. Just some scrapes. I’m heading

back anyway.” “Do you live far? Or did you park your car on the Mt P end?” he asked. “No, I came from the East Bay end. I live on that side. I’m seriously fine. You can keep going on your run or whatever.” Charlotte was mortified now. She just wanted him to go back on his way and leave her be. “That’s where I came from too,” he

said. “I’ll walk you back.” “Totally unnecessary,” she said. He looked at her for a moment and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “You’re always this stubborn?” he asked. “I was taught you walk a girl home even in the best of circumstances. And certainly in ones such as this. I wouldn’t feel right.”

Charlotte sighed, “Well, if you insist. That’s fine. It’s a long walk though.” “I have nowhere to be. I’m Declan, by the way.” “I’m Charlotte,” she said, and they began to walk.

********

Declan could tell she’d been crying. Her eyes were red, and with ones as large and distinct as hers were, it was hard to hide emotion in them. He was immediately stunned at their beauty, at her beauty in general. Her face was framed by wild hair, the color of a sunset, and again those eyes. He wanted to fix what made them look so sad. He didn’t even know her full name yet, but

he was determined to make things right in her world. I mean, what was a beautiful girl doing crying at the top of the Ravenel Bridge? But he sensed that pointing out how upset she appeared to be wouldn’t get him very far. And he wanted to know what he could about Charlotte. If she would let him in, that is.

“So,” he said as they started walking back towards the peninsula end of the Ravenel. “You walk the bridge much?” Charlotte shrugged, “Maybe a couple times a week.” “Me too,” Declan said. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another before this.” “I usually come early in the

morning,” Charlotte said. “You’re probably not even awake yet. Or maybe haven’t even gone to bed.” Declan laughed, “And how do you know? You think I’m some big party guy?” “Well, yes,” she said. “You kind of look like you’d be in a frat or something. Am I wrong?” Dammit, she wasn’t wrong, she was

completely spot on. “Well, yeah,” he said. “But I don’t party that much these days. Or, at least I’ve curbed it.” Charlotte sighed, “Well, I guess that’s good. Or whatever. I don’t know. But yeah, everyone here seems to be into the Greek life.” “You’re not in a sorority?” Declan asked.

Charlotte shook her head, “I don’t pay for friends. Not that I wouldn’t if I could, to be honest. I just can’t afford to. So it’s just easier to say I don’t.” It was shockingly honest and Declan nodded, “It’s hard to make friends here so Greek life is an easy way. I bet you could have had your pick if you’d bid.” Charlotte looked at him, “Why would you think that?”

Declan was rarely the guy that was nervous around any girl. But something about how she looked at him suddenly made him sheepish, “I don’t know. You just… Well, you’re pretty and you seem smart and…” He was really reaching now. “How do you know I’m smart? You’ve only been talking to me for five minutes,” she said, looking forward

again. “I mean, I am smart. But you don’t know something like that just from looking at someone.” Declan laughed nervously, “Sorry. I’m just… I’m trying to get to know you. It’s not every day I literally run into a beautiful girl on the Ravenel. Especially one who’s alone. The girls here all seem to travel in herds.” Charlotte laughed, a sound Declan

suddenly realized might be his new favorite, “That’s so true. None of them can go by themselves anywhere! I work at Dixie Garden and the girls always go to the bathroom in a large group. No chick left behind. Which is fine because none of them eat their food anyway, so they’re not missing out.” Declan laughed, “What a waste.” Charlotte smiled at him, the

afternoon sun lighting up her face. She was so damn pretty it almost knocked him over. “Do you go to the college?” Declan asked. “Yep,” Charlotte said. “For now.” “What do you mean?” he looked at her quizzically. “You on academic probation?” Charlotte shook her head, “No,

quite the opposite. My grades are fine, but my living situation isn’t. My roommate is kind of… kicking me out.” He could tell it was a topic that was upsetting. Was that why she’d been crying? “Well, that’s shitty,” he said. “Why?” “She wants her boyfriend to move in,” Charlotte explained. “Which is fine,

had she informed me of this 3 months ago when there was still any possibility of me finding a rental for the summer.” Charlotte’s voice caught in her throat. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But it’s why I’m a little upset, so forgive me if I don’t come off as the friendliest. I’m not in a great mood.” “Well, that’s understandable,” Declan said. “She really put you in a

bind.” Charlotte nodded, “Yep. She really did. So I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really don’t want to have to go back to Nashville.” “Is that where you’re from?” he asked. “My dad went to Vanderbilt.” Ugh, he thought. You sound like a bragging douche. “Yep,” she said. “And that’s where

my dad wanted me to go. Still wants me to go.” “Wow, you got into Vanderbilt and didn’t go?” Declan asked, impressed. Charlotte shrugged, “I wanted to get away. It just felt like it would have been high school, part two. I would have lived at home and nothing would have changed. Anyway, it’s more complicated than that but… That’s the truth.”

They were walking down the incline now, getting closer to East Bay. He turned around and walked backwards while they talked, his hands shoved in the pockets of his running shorts. “So why here?” he asked. “I mean; I grew up here so I can completely understand the desire to get away.” “I used to come on vacation here,” she said. “I just always liked it.”

He sensed there was more to the story, but he didn’t push it. “Well, it’s not a bad place to call home,” he agreed. “It has its charm.” Charlotte smiled, “Yeah, if you have the right name and the right amount of money in your bank account.” He laughed, “I guess so. But isn’t it also more than that?” Charlotte sighed, “It is. I love so

much about this city yet also loathe so much about it. Have you heard of Pat Conroy?” Declan smiled, “What kind of Charlestonian would I be if I hadn’t?” Charlotte laughed, “True. Anyway, in The Prince of Tides the character opens it with ‘My wound is geography.’ That’s kind of how I feel about this place. It’s my wound and also my saving

grace. It’s a foreign land, yet its home. It always draws me back to it, like some kind of magnet. I love the salty smells, the marshes, and the sense of history. I even like the aristocracy of the people who have lived here forever. It’s a city unlike any other.” Charlotte looked over at Declan who was staring at her now. “Sorry, I know I sound like a dork.” Declan shook his head, “Nope. The

very opposite.” She’s passionate, he thought. How rare was that in a girl her age? What has Charlotte seen in her life to make her this way? He wanted to know more. He’d never been so intrigued by a person in his life. “Anyway,” she said. “I don’t know where you’re headed, but this is the street that takes me back to my apartment. Thanks for walking with me.”

Declan shook his head, “I’m walking you to your door, Charlotte. You can’t get rid of me so easily. Besides, I have a thought.” “A thought?” she asked, skeptical. “And what would that be?” “Well,” he said. “Just hear me out. Because I know we just met and this might come off very strange.” Charlotte sighed, “If you did all of

this just to get me to come home with you, it’s a waste of time. I’m not interested.” He paused for a moment and then laughed, “No! I mean, not that… Charlotte, that’s not what I am getting at. Shit. Did you think I did this to score a hook up?” Charlotte shrugged, “Yes. No. I guess I’m not your type.”

Declan sighed, “Charlotte, you’re every man’s type. But that’s not what I’m getting at. Also, what a way to deflate a guy’s ego. Anyway, I wanted to mention… I live at my parents’ house on Meeting. And they have a carriage house that they’ve rented out to friends of mine before, and my buddy that rented it this semester is traveling abroad to Florence for the summer. So it’s free. And you

happen to need a place, so I thought… Maybe you’d be interested?” He looked down at his sneakers, not sure what else to say, and wanting her to say yes to his offer, more than he’d want to admit. She was quiet for a moment. “I mean,” she said. “It’s an awfully nice offer. I would normally decline… But. I really am kind of desperate. How much would it be?” Charlotte looked at

him, clearly anxious about the answer. “Whatever you pay at your apartment now,” Declan said. “Or less, if that helps. Our place has long since been paid for, so it’s not a big deal. Whatever works for you.” He was sure she was going to say no. I mean; they’d known one another barely an hour. But he couldn’t help but think that their encounter wasn’t just by

chance. That maybe he could somehow fix it so she never had to cry on a bridge again. At least not over something like where she would live. “Okay,” she said. “I can’t believe this, but yes. And thank you. I can’t express…” Her voice caught for a moment, but then she composed herself. “I can’t express to you how grateful I am. But only if you’re sure.”

Declan grinned, “I’ve never been surer.” Of anything, he finished saying in his mind.

Chapter Four The drive seemed to be taking forever. Charlotte was tired of listening to talk radio, and she had played every CD she had, which admittedly wasn’t many. Yet she still had a while to go. She already missed Vanessa. They’d never lived apart except for Charlotte’s

time at the College of Charleston. Now that they were both adults, Vanessa had become her best friend. They’d been through it all together and no one understood her like her sister did. Which is why it was so hard to not be completely honest with her about why she left Nashville. But being secretive was for the best. Telling Vanessa what was really going on would have added

unnecessary complications to her life. Or at minimum caused her stress that she didn’t need. Vanessa was just starting her life. She had so much to look forward to and Charlotte didn’t want to mess that up. So she’d gotten in her car, and without looking back, she drove away.

********

She’d finally arrived in Charleston around dinner time, slowly driving down King Street and allowing nostalgia to fill the interior of her Passat. She watched young girls in Herve Leger dresses, teetering in heels on the sidewalks, laughing drunkenly as they hopped from bar to bar. The energy in the air was palpable; as always, Charleston was its

best self at night. She thought about turning around and driving down Meeting and past Declan’s house, but she reconsidered. It was better to leave it be. She wasn’t here to dig up the past. She just needed a familiar place to hide for a while. Charlotte drove up East Bay and the memory of her first meeting with Declan hit her as she pulled onto the Ravenel

Bridge to go toward Sullivan’s Island, where she was renting a small cottage for the next month. She would never forget how he’d looked at her as they took that first fateful walk. His kind eyes, his handsome features, his beautiful, chiseled body. There had been no choice for her when it came to him. There never would be.

********

By the time she reached the house, it was starting to get dark. When she stepped out of her car she could hear the sound of the Atlantic lapping against the shore. It was her favorite sound in the world, one she hadn’t heard in too long, and she couldn’t help but feel at ease. She was home.

She’d rented the cottage for a month, but she suspected she may stay longer. She had enough savings to stay a while, something that was so different from the last time she’d been in Charleston. She’d been a broke college student then, living on ramen and a prayer. But she’d come so far in the last ten years. She was an obstetrician, one of

the most respected in the Nashville area. When she’d decided to take this sabbatical, her entire practice had been in shock. It was sudden and with little notice. That wasn’t like the Dr. Sanders they knew. But then again, they didn’t know the whole story. No one did. Anyway, she couldn’t think of that for now, it would get her far too upset,

and she was determined to make her time here a happy one. This was the last place she’d known the definition of that word, and she was desperate to know what it was like again. That evening, after unpacking, she’d taken a glass of wine and sat on an Adirondack chair out on the porch that faced the beach. Driving all day had exhausted her and the wine exacerbated

the fatigue. She knew she’d sleep well tonight. She noticed the house next to her had a moving POD in the driveway. It was a large mansion that dwarfed her cottage, and it appeared to have recently been bought. The For Sale sign in the front had a large SOLD sticker emblazoned across the front of it. Well, whoever they are, Charlotte

thought to herself as she finished her glass, I hope they’re not assholes. Maybe I can even make some friends. And with that she went back inside.

Chapter Five Declan hadn’t even toured the house before buying it. No need. He knew it was the best Sullivan’s Island had to offer, and his realtor had assured him it would meet all his needs. Besides, Declan didn’t know how long he would even live there. But it

was beach front, with a pool, two hot tubs, a sauna, and a full basketball court on the grounds. Not that he played much anymore, but just knowing things were available to him was the best thing about being wealthy. So until he knew more about his father’s prognosis, it would definitely be sufficient. And it wasn’t that Declan had ever known anything other than wealth, but

being a billionaire was a completely new level of rich. His family had actually been on the brink of bankruptcy (a family secret that almost no one knew about in Charleston, though there had been whispers) when Declan sold his start-up, and fortunately the DeGraff name was saved. Not that his father showed appreciation for any of it, but such was Henry DeGraff’s way.

But now Declan was finally here to see the mansion he’d bought. His realtor, an older woman named Bree Lakes who had her face plastered over dozens of billboards around the Lowcountry, was meeting him at 9:00 am to hand over the keys and close on the contract. He’d driven up early, wanting to get away from the yacht. It was starting to smell stale, like a drunk lived on it,

which was half true. When he pulled his Range Rover into the driveway he noticed the cottage next door had a Volkswagen Passat parked in front of it. He hadn’t realized he’d have a neighbor so close to him. Not that it mattered, just something he hadn’t thought about. He liked to be more secluded from things. Besides, the tiny cottage was dwarfed by the pillars and turrets of his southern

castle by the sea. An odd dichotomy. “Declan DeGraff, as I live and breathe!” Bree Lakes’ shrill voice called to him from across his expansive front yard. He’d thought for sure he would arrive before Bree, but she was taking down the For Sale sign and putting it into the back of her Porsche Cayenne. “Hey, Bree,” he said, waving to her. “Good to see you.”

“Well, it’s been… I don’t even know how long! Since before your momma… Well, it’s been a long while,” she said, smiling at him. “How’s your daddy? Tell him I said hello!” “I sure will,” Declan said. “How’s Rafe?” Rafe Lakes was Declan’s age. They’d gone to Bishop Francis together, the Jesuit all boys’ high school to which

Charleston sent its finest sons. Rafe was known to be a jackass, but Declan always thought he was kind of funny. “He’s great, he and his wife are expecting their first baby in the next few months,” Bree said. “They won’t tell me the sex, which drives me crazy. I don’t know whether to buy pink or blue or how to monogram any of it! You kids love to keep your secrets!”

Declan chuckled awkwardly, praying this small talk hell could be over soon. “Well congrats,” Declan said. There was an awkward pause. “So we should probably sign the papers!” Bree exclaimed. “You buying in cash makes it all so easy for me! And how blessed you are to be able to do that. You’ve really made something of

yourself.” Bree leaned in and whispered, “Your momma would be so proud, Declan. So proud.” He stiffened at the mention of his mother. “Yes, well,” he said. “Let’s get those papers signed.”

Chapter Six Charlotte woke up late the next morning. It was a strange feeling to wake up on her own without the aid of an alarm clock. She could definitely get used to this. She hadn’t been to the store yet, so there wasn’t much to eat in the kitchen.

She’d left the open bottle of wine on the counter overnight and she cursed herself for being so lazy. Why do I care? She thought. It’s just me here now. I can leave anything I want out, when I want. Outside, the sky was cloudless and Carolina blue. It was warm, but not too warm, and a breeze whipped by her as she stepped onto the porch to take in

what looked like a perfect day. Next door at the mansion she saw an older woman with platinum blonde hair shut the front door and strut over to a Porsche SUV, a cell phone to her ear. “I guess that’s my new neighbor,” Charlotte said to herself. “Maybe I’ll go by later and introduce myself. When she comes back from wherever she’s heading.”

She watched the woman drive away and then faced the ocean again. It was nice to be back. She’d thought it would be harder, that the memories of Declan and their summer together would still haunt her. But she’d found that happened no matter where she lived. And being here was so comforting in a way. It represented a beautiful time in her life, even if it ended badly. She

could still appreciate what it had been, and being that she needed an escape, this was the perfect place to find it. For now. It also helped that she knew Declan DeGraff was nowhere near this place anymore. No chance of running into him and her past. She smiled. It was time to lay out, get some much needed Vitamin D. She headed back in to look for her new two-

piece swimsuit and a People magazine.

Ten Years Earlier… Charlotte had moved into the DeGraff carriage house a week after meeting Declan on the bridge. Allyn Legare seemed almost miffed that Charlotte had been able to find a place

so fast. “How did you manage it?” Allyn said as Charlotte boxed up some books. “I mean; I really didn’t give you like, any notice.” “You sure as hell didn’t,” Charlotte said as she taped the box closed. “But it’s for the best. No roommates at this place I’m heading.” Allyn guffawed, “How the hell are

you affording that? Unless you’re like, living in North Charleston or something.” “Nope,” Charlotte said, looking up at Allyn. “I’m living in a carriage house on Meeting.” “South of Broad?” Allyn said. “How is that even possible? Who do you know there?” “Declan DeGraff told me about it,”

she said, not expecting Allyn to know who he was. “Declan DeGraff?” Allyn practically yelled. “I didn’t know you knew him! He’s like… One of the richest guys in Charleston. And hottest. Since when do you know him? And does Saylor know about this?” Charlotte looked at her, confused, “Who’s Saylor?”

“Saylor Embers. She’s in my sorority, she’s his girlfriend of like, forever,” Allyn said. Charlotte had to admit that hearing Declan had a girlfriend pained her a bit, but she shrugged it off. She wasn’t looking for anything more than a place to live and he’d been kind enough to provide it. Besides, she wasn’t his type. Not if girls like Allyn were.

“Well, I don’t know anything about that. I don’t even know him that well, he said it was available for rent and I took him up on it,” Charlotte said. “So, everyone’s a winner.” Allyn rolled her eyes, “Declan just offered you this place out of the kindness of his heart? I find that a little hard to believe.” “Why?” Charlotte asked sharply.

“Like I said, I met him, told him about how I was being unceremoniously booted from this place, and he told me about the carriage house. What do you care? I shouldn’t even be speaking to you after how you’ve treated me.” Allyn’s mouth hung open unattractively. Charlotte had never been so assertive but now that they weren’t roommates anymore, it wasn’t like she

had anything to lose. “Well, I guess I was right. You never liked me,” Allyn said. “So I don’t feel bad about this. At all.” “I know you don’t, Allyn,” Charlotte said, picking up the taped up box and heading out the door for the last time. “You never feel bad about anything.”

********

Declan thought Charlotte might change her mind about moving in. After he’d left her that day, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind, and it had taken almost all of his composure not to text her constantly. Instead he’d kept it mostly professional and only texted her to confirm when and what time she’d be

needing to move in. He’d offered to help her get her things, but she’d declined. The afternoon she came over to move in was the first time he’d seen her since their walk from the bridge. She’d pulled up in a dusty Datsun, one that looked like it was about twenty years old. The back of it was filled with boxes and clothes on hangers. Everything was neatly organized.

When Charlotte stepped out of the driver’s seat his heart moved. She was even more beautiful today, her long hair falling around her shoulders in amber waves, her tan legs toned in a pair of khaki shorts. She was natural and perfect, and if this was any other time he would have laid on the heavy charm but he knew that kind of thing wouldn’t work with her.

She didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t lean on his name or his family’s reputation. In order to get someone like Charlotte to like him he’d have to hope that he, by himself, was good enough. And looking at her right now, he felt like he fell very short. “Hey,” she said, walking towards him. “I’m here.” Declan nodded, “Yep. Glad to have

you. Want me to get some of those boxes?” He nodded over at her car. Charlotte shook her head, “No, I’ve got them. You’ve done enough.” She looked around her eyes wide. “You live here?” Declan smiled, “Yep. Born and raised.” “It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen,” Charlotte said. “Are you

sure it’s okay I’m moving in?” “Charlotte, we never even use the carriage house. Well, sometimes I use it to escape my parents, but you staying here is completely okay. My parents are used to one of my friends being here. They don’t mind.” “So they know you’ve rented out the carriage house to someone you met crying on the Ravenel and who you’ve

barely known a week? I mean, I could be a runaway fugitive, and a serial killer for all you know.” Charlotte winked at him. “You could be aiding and abetting.” Declan laughed, “Are you prelaw?” “Nope. Pre-med. I don’t want to kill people. I want to help them.” They stared at one another awkwardly for a moment, not sure what

to say when a voice pierced through the sexual tension between them. “Declan!” a girl called to him from next to Charlotte’s car. “Ew, whose car is this? Your gardener’s? Doesn’t your momma make them park on the street usually?” “What the fuck?” Declan muttered. “Sorry, Charlotte. It’s Saylor… She’s my…”

“Girlfriend?” Charlotte finished. “It’s okay, I’ll start unpacking the gardener’s car I guess.” Saylor Embers stood in the driveway in a tiny pair of high-waisted shorts and a tank top. She was a stunning brunette bombshell, with the longest legs Charlotte had ever seen on someone not on a runway. Of course this would be his

girlfriend, Charlotte thought. “Who are you?” asked Saylor. “Declan, what is this about?” “Saylor, not that it’s any of your business but this is Charlotte Sanders,” Declan said. “She’s renting the carriage house this summer.” “Is she?” Saylor said, looking Charlotte up and down. “Is your momma doing some kind of charity or adult

foster care program?” Charlotte sighed and looked over at Declan. “I’m going in,” she said, walking away. Declan glared at Saylor, “What the hell is wrong with you? And what are you doing here? When someone doesn’t answer your texts, take it as a hint, Saylor. I’m busy.”

“Looks like you’re definitely busy,” Saylor remarked. “Having a little ghetto fling for the summer. Thinking I’ll still be around after you’ve had your fun.” “Trust me, Saylor. I’m not interested anymore. And this shit is why. You can be such a bitch,” Declan said, walking back toward the house. “Go fuck with some other guy that’s willing to put up with your shit. Because I’m not him

anymore.” He walked away, leaving Saylor Embers alone in his parents’ crushed oyster shell driveway. For good.

********

Charlotte and Declan formed an unlikely friendship in the following weeks. Neither were in any classes for

the summer so they fell into a routine of sorts. Charlotte had picked up more shifts at Dixie Garden. She’d work the lunch crowd and come home in the afternoon. On the weekends she worked nights and Declan would try to be around when she got back and they would sometimes watch a movie or just sit around on the porch, talking about things. Nothing

heavy, just the kind of conversations you have with someone you’re trying to get to know. They’d argue about movies, television, sometimes politics. Declan always leaned a little more to the right of things, while Charlotte was more progressive. It never got too heated and Declan liked the challenge Charlotte brought to the table. She had thoughts

and opinions she could back up, and she wasn’t afraid to share them and never was one to pretend to agree with him. If anything, she enjoyed when they disagreed, which was often. Anna DeGraff had taken notice of her son’s new friend. “When are you going to introduce me to our new tenant?” she asked him over breakfast one morning. “You sure

spend a lot of time over there these days.” “Charlotte works a lot,” he said, taking a bite out of his eggs benedict. Declan wasn’t sure why he was hesitant to introduce Charlotte to his mother. Something stopped him each time. “Well, have her over for dinner sometime soon,” Anna said, sipping her coffee.

“Sure,” Declan said. “I’ll do that.”

********

One day, three weeks after Charlotte moved in, Declan found her sitting on the porch with the same look on her face she’d had the day on the bridge. He’d sauntered over to see if she wanted to go out to dinner with him that

night. It was the closest he’d come to actually asking her out on a date. But instead he’d found her sitting on an Adirondack chair, her legs tucked under her, clearly having been crying. “Charlotte?” he knelt down next to her. “What’s wrong?” Charlotte shook her head, “Nothing. It’s too much to get into.” “Well, it’s clearly not ‘nothing’,” he

said, touching her arm. She jerked her head up at his touch. It had surprised her, but he mistook it as her wanting him to pull away, so he did. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m here, though. We’re friends. You can tell me. Is there something I can do?” The concern on his face about broke her heart. He was so kind to her, not like she’d suspected he’d be at all, and his

compassion made her burst into tears. “I’m just,” she sobbed. “Today is my mom’s birthday.” Declan had to fight the urge not to wrap his arms around her. Instead he let her cry and was quiet. He listened. “My mom would have been fiftyyears-old today,” she continued. “And I miss her so much. It’s been almost six years since she died and I still can’t stop

wishing she was here. I think about her every day and lately it’s been so hard.” She looked at Declan. “Sorry, this is too much to put on you.” Declan pulled up the empty chair next to her and sat in it, his knees touching hers and he bent his tall body forward to look at her eye to eye. “Tell me about her,” he said. “Tell me what she was like. What are the

things you miss the most?” Charlotte looked at him for a long moment. They’d never been this close together and part of her wanted to kiss him so badly for even asking about her mom. “I miss her voice,” Charlotte said. “She liked to sing show tunes while she cleaned. Especially from A Chorus Line. It was her favorite musical. She’d be

running the vacuum upstairs and I would still hear her. Dad pretended it drove him crazy, but he would always smile.” She laughed. “She was a terrible singer. I mean, really awful. But what she lacked in talent she made up for in enthusiasm.” Charlotte sighed, “I sometimes wonder if I’ll forget what she sounded like. I used to have a voicemail from her

saved on my phone, but my dad switched carriers and it somehow got deleted. It really crushed me. Having that silly little message kept her alive for me in a way.” Declan couldn’t help it; he took her hand. “What happened?” he asked. “Unless you don’t want to…” Charlotte shook her head, “No, it’s okay. I can tell you. You’re being so

kind. She was killed in a car accident. Out on Folly Beach. I was thirteen.” Declan squeezed her hand, “I’m so sorry. Were you on vacation?” Charlotte nodded, “Yep. We always came here in the summer. She went to the store, asked me to come with her. If I had agreed to go, she’d probably have missed that stoplight. The person who hit her would have hit someone else. Or just

sped on through. My mom would still be alive.” Charlotte’s shoulders shook with her sobbing. “All because I was an asshole teenager who didn’t feel like going with my mom to the store.” Declan pulled her to him, “No. It’s not your fault. Did they find the person who hit her?” “No,” Charlotte said. “That’s the worst part. It’s what haunts me to this

day. No one ever had to pay for my mom dying. They didn’t even stop to see if she was okay. How could someone do that?” Declan didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.” Charlotte wiped her tears and stared into Declan’s eyes. “It’s pretty terrible,” Charlotte said. “Her birthday is one of the hardest times

for me. Especially this one. I sometimes wonder if I did the right thing moving here.” They were inches from one another now. He could have leaned in and kissed her; kissed away her pain, her grief. He would have, if she’d only given him the slightest hint it’s what she wanted. But she didn’t. She pulled away instead.

“Thank you for listening to me,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry to get all emotional on you. I’m sure you have big plans tonight.” Declan smiled, “Nope. No plans. Unless you feel like joining me for dinner. Maybe a birthday celebration. For your mom.” Charlotte looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Fifty is a big one. What was her favorite kind of food?” “She loved Mexican,” Charlotte grinned. “Fajitas. Chips with salsa and guacamole. The kind they make right at the table.” Declan stood up and offered her his hand, “Let’s Feliz Cumpleaños the night away, Charlotte. I’d love to hear more about the woman who raised my friend.”

She was hesitant to take his hand. She felt like enjoying this day wasn’t right, that she should be in mourning. But the look in his eyes and the swell in her heart made her think it was the right thing to do. Her mother had always said she wanted her girls to be happy. Above all else. And nothing, at this moment, made her happier than Declan DeGraff.

Chapter Seven Declan was relieved to see Bree Lakes leave. She was a lot of high maintenance energy that he just wasn’t in the mood for at the moment. As soon as she’d mentioned his mother, he’d frozen. The people closest to him knew that the topic of Anna

DeGraff was off limits. He’d cut people out of his life that reminded him too much of her, save for his father. Whether they liked it or not, Henry and Declan were stuck with one another, and their pain at her absence was identically acute. It's why he’d avoided Charleston for so long. It wasn’t only because everything about this city reminded him

of Charlotte and what he’d lost in letting her go. But this city was his mother. From the marshes, to King Street, to the Battery, to Angel Oak, to the bells chiming at St. Michael’s, all of it was her. She was a ghost Declan had never been able to deal with. So he’d fled. Transferred out of the College of Charleston and moved clear across the country. Finished up at

Stanford. Formed a start-up on his own and made billions of dollars when he sold it. But none of it made him forget. At the end of the day, it was just a distraction.

********

Once Bree was gone, he took in his

surroundings. He’d brought some furniture with him from Palo Alto, but not much. He’d need to go out to Mount Pleasant tomorrow and see about hiring an interior designer to spruce up the place. It wasn’t something he was interested in doing. He would rather just throw money at the problem and have it fixed. He’d talked to his father’s new

nurse earlier that morning. Henry DeGraff was still pissed off to be dying and Declan couldn’t blame him. It was a shitty way to go. He’d promised the nurse he’d be over later today to visit; possibly have a conversation with his father that didn’t end in an argument. But, for now, he needed some fresh air and sunshine. The sound of the Atlantic beckoned him to come out and

rest a while. Declan thought jumping in and having a swim might be a good way to start the day. He stepped out onto the back porch to take in his surroundings. He could see a woman was already laying out on the sand. She had on a black bikini and was flipping through a magazine as she lounged on a beach towel. Not a bad view, he thought. Not a

bad view at all.

Ten Years Earlier… Charlotte’s least favorite shift of all the shifts she had to work at Dixie Garden was definitely Sunday brunch. Charleston’s finest came out in their Lily Pulitzer dresses, Tory Burch flats,

and Chanel handbags. The women gossiped over pimento cheese sandwiches and she-crab soup that they never touched, all while demanding constant refills of water and sweet tea. And none of them tipped for shit. Charlotte dreaded it every week. And on this particular Sunday, she was reminded of why. Saylor Embers and her coven of

southern bitches were seated at one of her tables. As soon as they saw she was their server, the hell began. “Oh, well, look who it is!” Saylor cooed. “It’s little Miss Ho Bag. How’s it going? Don’t you look adorable in that little apron? It really hides your flaws well!” She smiled and the girls around her chortled at her audacity. Charlotte ignored the insult, “Good

morning. What can I get y’all to drink?” “Water. Unlike some, we don’t drink our calories. And we prefer it bottled,” Saylor said. “Who knows what you’d do to it.” “Got it,” Charlotte said. “I’ll bring you bottled water. Did you want an appetizer?” Saylor rolled her eyes, “No. But I wouldn’t mind a different waitress. I

prefer not be served by someone who’s fucking my boyfriend.” Charlotte’s hands started to shake, “I’m not sleeping with him. And I’m completely capable of serving you whatever you need.” “Are you ‘capable’? How lovely. Couldn’t a trained monkey serve us sandwiches? I mean, seriously. What are you even doing here? You realize

everyone thinks you’re a joke, right? And a whore? Because when you receive something like rent in exchange for sexual favors, that’s what you become. A nasty prostitute. I don’t want you touching my food. Can I see your manager? Maybe they’re not aware what kind of girl they hired. There must be plenty of other trailer trash bitches vying for a spot at this place.”

Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore. She dropped the notepad she took orders on and quickly ran from the dining area and back to the break room. She couldn’t let them see her cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of that.

********

That night she’d thought long and hard about what she was trying to prove by staying in a town that seemed to want nothing to do with her. Charlotte missed her little sister. She missed her friends; hell, she missed having friends. The only friend she had here in Charleston was Declan. She even missed her father. And as much as it pained her to come crawling

back, she wondered if maybe it was better that way. Charleston just didn’t seem to love her the way she loved it. That night she’d told Declan how she felt. “So you’re thinking of moving back home?” Declan asked. “Why?” “It would be too hard for you to understand,” Charlotte said, trying her best not to cry in front of him. “You

don’t know what it’s like.” Declan sighed, “You could at least try me. It’s kind of presumptive of you to assume I wouldn’t know what it’s like to feel a certain way.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Declan. I am living in your carriage house. The fact that your family even has a carriage house automatically precludes you from being able to relate to most people

outside of your social circle.” Declan was annoyed now, “Just because my family has money doesn’t automatically disqualify me from having pain in my life, Charlotte. And the fact that you think it does shows how little you know about the world and how it works.” Charlotte stood, “You’re so condescending sometimes!” She started

to walk away. “Where are you going?” he asked. “To bed. I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired,” she said, and then it couldn’t be helped. The tears came, like a wave that couldn’t be stopped, and she was suddenly crying, the kind of crying filled with gasps and sobs and wails. It was a cry from deep within her soul, one she’d been holding in since she was thirteen

years old. “Charlotte…” Declan went to her then, not caring what had been said or how it might look tomorrow. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, her sobs vibrating against his chest, her tears soaking into the front of his button down. “I can’t take it anymore, Declan,” she cried. “This city hates me. I don’t look like anyone here, nor can I afford

to. I don’t come from a family that’s lived here for 400 years, I don’t even own a decent car. I’m not in a sorority, I have to work at a place that serves the very girls that laugh at me on a daily basis, and I’m expected to do it all with a smile on my face.” She pulled back and wiped her tears from her beautiful eyes. “I’m tired of pretending to be happy. I’m tired of sticking it out just to

prove I can.” Declan stared at her, his heart breaking at the sound of her anguish and rage stirring in his heart thinking about anyone hurting her. “I didn’t know,” he said. “Who would ever laugh at you?” Charlotte sniffed, “If you must know… Saylor, your girlfriend. She’s one of the worst. She called me trailer

trash. I’ve never even been inside of a trailer, and even if I had, does that automatically make me a terrible person?” Charlotte started crying again. “And my ex-roommate, Allyn. She comes into Dixie Garden all the time and ignores me completely. Acts like we didn’t live together for 9 months. Unless she’s alone, then she’ll acknowledge me half-heartedly.”

Declan was furious, “Charlotte, Saylor is not my girlfriend. I’d never want to be with someone who was such a heinous bitch. And Allyn Legare is a phony, she always has been.” Declan pulled Charlotte toward him again. “You’re beautiful, smart, and really funny. You’re original, and full of life, and sexier than any girl on the peninsula. They’re jealous as fuck, Charlotte. They

know that they’re nothing special and that they probably never will be because they don’t have the courage to be anything other than what everyone expects them to be.” He took her chin in his hand and pointed her face up at him. “I’d feel sorry for them if they weren’t such assholes.” Charlotte’s lips had never looked so good. God, he wanted to kiss her. He’d

wanted to kiss her since the second he saw her, but seeing her like this made him want to even more, to show her she wasn’t any of the things she herself as. For just a moment he wanted her to see herself through his eyes. “You really think I’m beautiful?” Charlotte asked, her eyes wide now. “I know it,” he said, and that’s when he took his moment. He kissed her

gently, tasting her for the first time, the scent of her hair intoxicating, her breasts and body never so close to him as they were now. She pulled back a moment and looked at him, “I’ve wanted you to tell me that... Since I met you, Declan. Is that strange to tell you?” Declan shook his head, “I’ve wanted to say it. Since the day on the

bridge. You looked… lost. Those eyes of yours, they haunted me. All I wanted to do was take the pain away. It was so clear then you were in a lot of it.” Charlotte looked down, embarrassed. “So you pitied me?” He smiled, “No. Well, maybe a little. I wondered why someone as beautiful as you would ever be alone on a bridge. And then I realized, you were

there so I could find you.” She looked up at him, “Like it was meant to be?” “Yes,” he took her face in his hands again and kissed her harder this time, his mouth traveling from hers and down her neck, to her collar bone. Her long hair brushed against his face and he felt himself growing hard being this close to her. She sighed beneath him, and through

the thin cotton of her tank top her nipples were swollen and stiff. His thumbs brushed against the material, making her moan. “Declan,” she whispered. “Is this a good idea?” He looked at her and said nothing for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I know I want you. I know you want me

too. Let’s live with that tonight and worry about the rest tomorrow.” “I’m not someone who can buy today and pay later,” she said, pulling away. “Especially when it comes to my heart.” He gently pulled her by the arm back towards him, “I will never make you pay for anything, Charlotte. This isn’t like that.”

He pulled the thin straps of her tank top down and gently pulled her breasts out, making her gasp. His thumbs brushed against them again, the turgid peaks of her nipples beckoning him. “Let me,” he whispered. “I can show you how I feel about you better than I can say it. And I’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning. And I’ll show you again, if you need more convincing.

Let me know what it’s like to wake up to you.” Goosebumps covered her arms, her entire body. She was wet already; she could feel it. She’d never wanted something more in her life. Even if it was a terrible idea, she couldn’t resist what he was offering her. “Yes,” she relented. “Please. Take me, Declan. Have me however you want

me. Just don’t break my heart.”

********

Charlotte hadn’t thought it through. She should probably have mentioned one thing before they began. This was her first time. But it seemed like something that would ruin the moment, so she hadn’t

said anything. She’d made a decision to just go with it- for once. He’d pulled the boxers she slept in off as she laid back in her bed, her wild hair fanning out behind her on the pillow. His shirt was off and he towered above her in just his boxer briefs. Of course his body was perfect; rippling abs, muscled pectorals, thickly roped arms that she couldn’t wait to be pulled

and directed by. She was trying not to squirm under his gaze. But he wouldn’t stop staring. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he said as he fell towards her onto the bed. He was above her now, supported by his arms, his hands on both sides of her shoulders. His eyes were intense and filled with lust. He’d never looked at her like this before.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling silly. “I mean. I don’t know what to say.” “Don’t say anything,” he kissed her deeply and she could feel his hardness against her own wetness, the only thing separating them the flimsy material of his boxer briefs. He put one of his arms under her and pulled her toward him, releasing it only to pull her tank top off over her

head, leaving her naked before him. “Wow,” he said. “Your body…” Charlotte was all curves and smooth, tan skin. Her breasts were full and at attention and he could see the slickness on her inner thighs. She was so ready for him and he was almost bursting out of his briefs. He needed to be inside her. His kisses were voracious,

covering her neck and down to her shoulders, then back to her mouth. As he moved, his erection rubbed against her, setting her sex aflame. She stole a glance down as he changed positions and she noticed the front of his underwear was soaked through, sending a jolt of embarrassment through her, ashamed of her body for betraying her desperation so lewdly.

In her inexperience, she didn’t realize that Declan was leaking what felt to him like gallons of fluid, contributing more than his share to the mess his underwear had become. He slid down her body a bit, taking first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, flicking at them with his tongue. Unbeknownst to Charlotte, he’d taken the opportunity to shed his last garment, and

when he moved back up to resume kissing her mouth, there was no longer any barrier between their scalding hot bodies. She felt it before she saw it, his cock pulsing with every heartbeat as Declan’s shaft slid against her opening, up and down, grinding as they kissed. A curious sensation overwhelmed her, an emptiness. Deep down to her core. A

void that needed to be filled, more even than her lungs needed to be inflated by her ragged breaths. Her body needed to be filled by Declan, she needed to feel that throbbing not only on the outside, but on the inside as well. Charlotte’s body was desperate for Declan’s powerful cock to stretch her, explore her body, and touch places nothing ever had. He took her face in his hands and

straddled her hips, kissing her passionately. When he broke the kiss, she got her first look at what she’d been feeling, standing tall against his taut stomach. Charlotte’s eyes widened at his size, not knowing what she’d expected, but suddenly she was very nervous. “Declan,” she said. “I have to tell you something.” “Just relax,” he said, running the

back of his hand up and down her left side, making her shiver. “You’re so perfect.” “Well,” Charlotte said, her mouth suddenly unable to form the words she wanted to tell him. “I… I have to tell you though. So you won’t be disappointed…” He looked at her then, his eyes soft and concerned, “What is it, baby?”

Baby. No man had ever called her that. She liked how it sounded coming from him. “Well, I know its lame, but I’ve never done this before,” she said, her heart pounding. Declan’s expression changed and Charlotte suddenly wanted to untell what she’d just told. “You’re a virgin?” he asked.

“You’ve never…” He let the sentence go unfinished. Charlotte shook her head, tears suddenly falling down her cheeks, “I told you, I’m ridiculous and weird and not like anyone…” He pressed his finger against her lips, “Charlotte. It’s okay. I’m just surprised. There’s nothing lame or ridiculous about it. I just want to know

you want this and that I’m not pressuring you.” Charlotte nodded, “I want it so bad, Declan. More than anything. I just didn’t want you to wonder why I wasn’t good at it or whatever. I don’t know what I’m doing.” She threw an arm over her eyes. God this was a nightmare. She was ruining everything. Gently, but firmly, Declan took her

wrist in his hand and pulled her arm away from her face and positioned it above her head. He moved her other hand in a similar fashion, crossing them above her head and holding them fast with one of his large hands. He cradled her face with his other hand, staring deep into her eyes. “Charlotte. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but this is going to hurt. You understand that,

right? The first time always does, I imagine.” As he spoke, she could feel the power of his erection again rubbing against her. “If it gets to be too much, tell me. If you like something, let me know. I don’t want you to be scared or uncomfortable. Okay?” With her wrists still loosely restrained above her head, her entire body trembling with anticipation,

Charlotte bit her bottom lip and nodded. Declan replied to her nod by reaching down with his free hand to line himself up with her opening. He didn’t expect to encounter her hymen, he’d heard somewhere that many girls lose them playing sports, riding horses, that sort of thing. Declan had never been one to doubt his sexual prowess, but something about Charlotte made him

uncharacteristically nervous. He’d realize later that it was the fact that he truly wanted her to feel special, to make it memorable, for her to have no regrets. That for the first time in his life, he had genuine feelings about the person he was fucking. Or in this case, making love to. He wanted her to experience pleasure even more than he wanted it for himself. He entered Charlotte slowly, finding

that their combined arousal had everything so wet that he slid inside more easily than he expected to. She gasped and winced, but only for a moment. As he began to ease in deeper, he spoke in a voice just this side of a whisper. “Look into my eyes, Charlotte. I want to share this moment with you completely. Look right into my eyes.” Her eyes were glassy, difficult to

focus, but Charlotte tried. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally he’d stopped his forward motion. There was pressure, and definitely some pain, but it was a delicious kind of pressure, a sumptuous pain. I can’t believe that whole thing is inside me, Charlotte thought. So far, so good, filled Declan’s mind. She hadn’t realized that he still had several inches to give her.

Declan held himself there, engulfed by her, staring into Charlotte’s eyes. Her mouth was open, a small sound escaping, a kind of whimper. He resumed his glacially-slow thrusting, easing another inch into Charlotte, then two. She began to squirm. Declan’s irresistible cock wasn’t finished yet, to Charlotte’s surprise and dismay. The pain and pressure were beginning to

mount, and she wasn’t sure how much more of his length her body could physically handle. Letting go of Charlotte’s wrists, Declan gave her a command. “Reach down and touch yourself. I want this to be so good for you.” Charlotte had never masturbated in front of anyone else, and she couldn’t stop a fleeting thought of a mortifying

moment when she’d almost been caught once by her parents years ago, but Declan was so strong, so in control of her body, that she couldn’t refuse him. As her hands busied themselves at her clit, Declan finally stopped pushing. The pain was more extreme, the stretching so deep inside her, but the pleasure she was giving herself helped her to compensate. He stayed right there,

fully impaled, and kissed her; sweet, soft kisses. So focused was Charlotte on Declan’s mouth and her own building orgasm, she barely noticed that he’d withdrawn himself halfway and thrust back inside, more quickly. She caressed herself frantically as his rhythm became more forceful, more insistent, and before she knew it he was fairly pounding her,

his thrusts no longer restrained by a fear of being too rough with her virgin body. He felt her responding, the way her hips lifted off the bed when he pulled back, the clutching feeling of her body not wanting to release his girth. He watched her eyes carefully, and he could feel her orgasm begin as they rolled back in her head. He mashed his mouth onto hers as it happened, and he gave her

his most powerful thrusts at the same time, and the combination of the kiss, the climax she’d given herself, and the weapon impaled inside her sent her to heights she’d never before reached or even imagined. Her first orgasm was merely a trigger, a catalyst for what came next, a hurricane crashing through her mind and soul, turning everything upside down inside her body and her

heart, sending debris flying everywhere. The landscape of Charlotte Sanders’ life reaching, in that instant, a point by which all things would be compared and measured. Events, memories, and experiences could now all be placed into one of two categories – before Declan fucked her and after. As she came down from her trip soaring above everything in the starlit Charleston sky,

she wondered, indeed, if anything would ever be the same. Was this her figurative first hit of heroin, a dragon she’d chase forever, or could Declan possibly have more to show her, more incredible things he could make her body do? She couldn’t ponder long, as his fucking, once gentle and sweet, had become more intense and relentless. His hands were behind the small of her back

and down to her ass, and her ankles were crossed behind him even as her hands moved to his chest and face. She mewed and writhed, unable to look at him, lost in a swirl of emotion and sensations. Charlotte was vaguely aware of a tender sort of soreness down there, like after she’d had a particularly intense workout, muscles that lay dormant her

entire life being called into immediate and vigorous action. Her orgasms seemed to roll, one into the next, endings and beginnings impossible to discern. Declan’s visage had taken on a peculiar sort of intensity, his teeth gritted below a forehead dotted with sweat. He was growling more than speaking. “Charlotte, you feel so good, you’re

so sexy, oh, fuck … Baby, I’m… I can’t stop…you’re going to make me…” Charlotte threw her hands behind his neck and pulled him close, kissing him hungrily as she felt a series of his eruptions filling her with his load. He’d sat back on his haunches, pulling her completely off the bed, holding her tight to his chest as her own clenching climax served to milk him of every last drop.

The lovers collapsed onto the bed, stretched out face to face, silly smiles on both their faces, kissing cheeks and noses, fingertips exploring arms and backs, and running through hair. She nuzzled her head into his chest, his protective arms wrapping her up tight, securing her against anything the world outside those four walls could ever throw at her.

Charlotte was right where she was always meant to be. She knew that. Whatever twists and turns her life had taken, to be held by Declan DeGraff in the basking, beautiful moments after their shared bliss was more perfect than syrup on pancakes, a cool ocean breeze on scorching July day, or a mountain of presents under the tree on Christmas morning.

Declan cradled Charlotte, their legs twisted together, and they fell into a deep, contented sleep. Charlotte’s last thought before drifting away was that maybe she’d finally figured out why she’d felt drawn to Charleston. It was Declan. It would always be him.

Chapter Eight Charlotte rubbed tanning oil on her arms and legs. She knew it was an absolutely terrible idea to do it, especially since she was a doctor and knew the possible repercussions, but she longed for sun-kissed skin. She’d tanned so easily when she was younger, but

being inside a hospital all the time had left her colorless and drab. If she was going to live by the beach, she was going to look like she belonged there. In the distance a man had sauntered out to the beach from the house next door. I guess that’s the blonde’s husband, she thought. He looks a little young for her, but to each his own.

Charlotte closed her eyes and basked in the breeze and heat of the perfect southern day. She already felt calmer, being here. But she missed Vanessa. Maybe she could fly her down here in the next couple of weeks; explain what had happened in Nashville and why she’d had to leave it behind.

********

Declan swam a few short laps in his pool and then sauntered down to the water, leaving his towel, phone, and flip flops behind in his gated backyard. He liked having a stretch of beach more or less to himself, and he walked a bit, picking up a few shells to see if the tide had dropped anything interesting at his backdoor overnight. He’d stolen a

glance at the girl in the black bikini as he strolled past, and thought she had a killer body, if a little pale for a day at the beach. Her face was obscured by a Kardashian on the cover of People, but he’d be surprised if she was anything short of a knockout with a body like that. A few gulls shadowed Declan as he walked, hoping he was one of those beachgoers who threw bread into the air,

but after circling for a few minutes, they gave up and left him alone with his thoughts. Wandering down into the surf, Declan let his feet sink in the sand, deeper with each wave that crashed at his ankles. He watched a crab skitter over to him and snap curiously at the exposed part of his right foot and he was suddenly lost in melancholy. I bet that

crab would have no idea if his dad was dying of pancreatic fucking cancer. He’s probably never known what it’s like to lose your father and still not be over losing the one person he ever loved. Ironic. A world filled with people envious of me and my money and here I am, jealous of a crab, Declan thought to himself. He walked a while longer until he

realized he was nearing the end of the island and then it occurred to him that he didn’t exactly know what his new digs looked like from the beach. He knew his gate code, so getting back inside the house wouldn’t be a problem, but many of the oceanfront mansions looked alike and it would be embarrassing to try to go inside the wrong house or to have to go back up to the street to find it that way.

In the distance he could see people starting to setup canopies and chairs, preparing for a day of fun in the sun. He thought back to the girl in the bikini who he’d been watching from his back porch – if she was still there, he’d know he had the right place. And he might get to introduce himself and see what she looked like beneath a glossy picture of a reality TV star.

********

Charlotte hid behind her magazine as her neighbor’s husband walked past, but she snuck a peek once he was a safe distance away. Trophy husband was the first thing that came to mind. She concocted an entire life for the people who lived next door; she was a wealthy

widow who’d snatched up a young stud who married her for her money, but who also kept a young girlfriend out in Summerville somewhere. He spent days at the gym and the beach, staying fit and tan to impress all her friends at the country club. She didn’t have to work, but she served on the boards of several charities or maybe the hospital to stay busy between lunch at the yacht club or

the occasional round of golf. Charlotte admired the man’s silhouette framed against the sun hovering over the horizon. He was tall and in good shape, broad-shouldered with an easy, confident gait. She watched him walk, noisy seagulls squawking in his wake. Before long, he was too far down the beach to ogle and she’d run out of

her ideas for the Lifetime movie starring her new neighbors, so she propped herself up on her elbows to watch the waves. The sounds of families unpacking wagons, college guys popping the tops of their cans, and children arguing over beach toys began to fill the air around her, drowning out the ocean for the moment. She finished an article about a woman who ran a rescue for

circus animals in Oklahoma and set her magazine down, standing up, stretching, and walking quickly across the hot sand to get down to the water. She splashed it up onto her shoulders and face, letting the ocean cool her down. She’d never been one to swim out too far, but wading up to her knees or so suited her just fine. Declan made his return up the

beach, looking for landmarks, and although he was disappointed that the girl in the black bikini seemed to be gone, he recognized his house and figured he’d head back up after he went out into the ocean for a few minutes and let the tide buffet him about. As he reached the water, he heard a child’s voice call out “Heads up! Sorry!” and saw a Nerf football in flight,

heading in his direction. Never one to pass up an opportunity for athletic glory, Declan drew a bead on the wayward ball, charged forward, and began his leap to make the catch. Displaying the focus that made him an all-county wide receiver in high school, Declan attempted to change direction as the wind made the ball dip, and he reached full extension – only to collide

with a defensive back. Although this defensive back was wearing sunglasses and a black bikini instead of shoulder pads and a helmet. The he was a very attractive she. And Declan had just knocked her down. As he offered a hand to help her up and an embarrassed, stuttering apology to her, he realized, eyes wide with shock, that there was a reason she’d

seemed so familiar to him. Her eyes were the same ones he’d first fallen for on the bridge ten years ago. The girl in the black bikini was none other than Charlotte Sanders. As he comprehended this, Charlotte had also come to a similar realization. Her neighbor was Declan Degraff. All of a sudden the past was back. And neither of them were sure what to

make of it. Charlotte knew one thing. She had to get out of here. Now.

Chapter Nine “Charlotte!” She could hear his voice calling to her, the voice she hadn’t heard in a decade. But she couldn’t stop. “Charlotte!” She trudged through the hot sand, the ground shifting beneath her as she tried

to quickly make her way back to the cottage. What would she do once she was there? She wasn’t sure. She’d close the door on him and never open it again. Then she’d sneak out in the middle of the night and go somewhere else- anywhere else. What was happening? How was he here? She’d read the article, it said Declan DeGraff is a proud West Coast

transplant. He splits his time between his homes in Marin County and Medina, Washington. Neither of those places were anywhere near South Carolina. Of all the times for him to decide to come home! She’d left her bag, her towel, her magazine, everything out on the beach. She didn’t look back. She was both

scared he was chasing her and scared he wasn’t. She wasn’t sure which one frightened her more.

********

Declan was still stuck in the sand, holding a foam football and watching Charlotte run away from him. The shock of seeing her face had almost knocked

him over. She was a ghost from his past, the biggest ghost of all, and somehow fate had made them collide again, in almost the same way it had on that day on the Ravenel Bridge. He’d thought of chasing her, but the look she’d given him when she’d realized… She’d looked terrified. And when she’d literally stood and run from him, it was clear that chasing her down

wouldn’t be ideal. God, she was still beautiful. Those eyes, still sad, still haunting… and her body. It was still as magnificent as he remembered. All he wanted was to go to her, to tell her everything that had been sitting on his heart for the past decade. But it was clear that Charlotte Sanders was not interested in hearing it.

********

Charlotte reached the cottage and when she turned around, breathless, she could still see Declan’s tall form in the distance, still standing next to her towel, looking back at her with a look of shock and bewilderment. I must look insane, she thought. He

wasn’t even chasing me. She entered her house through the sliding patio door on her porch and as soon as the cool burst of air conditioning hit her flushed skin, she began to cry. It was too much, all of this. She slowly slumped against the glass and slid down to sit, her feet tender from the hot sand, her calves sore from running on it. What did she do

now? Would he come to the house? Or would he leave? Her body and heart willed him to knock on her door. Her mind wrestled to overrule both of them. He was still so fucking handsome. Why did he have to look even better than he did ten years ago? Tall, dark, tan, with a more knowing face. Declan DeGraff was clearly someone who would age well, the proof of the sports

he’d played in college still imprinted on his muscular body. Maybe she should have stayed. But what could she possibly have said? And what could he possibly say after how he’d ended it? No, she couldn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t. She hoped he didn’t try to come knock on her door. Because she wasn’t answering.

********

Declan couldn’t believe it. Charlotte Sanders was his neighbor. The Passat in the driveway was hers. He wondered if someone was in the house with her. Certainly Charlotte was married by now. Probably to a handsome doctor, or an attorney.

Someone incredibly successful, that’s the only type of man who someone like Charlotte would be compatible with. He couldn’t help but be envious of whomever that man was, couldn’t help but wonder if he made love to her like Declan had, if he knew the curves and freckles of her body the way Declan still remembered them. Fuck. This was so messed up.

He sat down on the towel she’d just been laying on. What was he supposed to do now?

Ten Years Ago… The morning after Declan and Charlotte first made love, things were a tad awkward. Declan had woken up first. She still slept next to him, her arms stuffed under

her pillow, one naked tan leg resting above the sheets. He loved the shape of her body. It was like a guitar; all smooth curves. Her skin glowed in the morning light. He took in the sight of her, wanting so badly to wake her and have her again, to taste her mouth and every other part of her body. Instead he pulled on his pants and shirt and snuck back into the main house

to see if he could come up with breakfast for both of them. He quietly went in the side entrance, through the French doors that went into the kitchen. “Good morning, son!” Declan nearly jumped out of his skin. His father, Henry, sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper spread out in front of him, steaming mug of coffee in his hand. “Dad,” Declan sighed. “You scared

me. You’re up early.” “I could say the same about you,” Henry said. “Or are you going to be bed incredibly late?” Declan shook his head, “Nope, just waking up. Thought I would get some breakfast.” “Why would you come in from outside?” Henry asked, his eyebrow raised.

“I was visiting Charlotte in the carriage house,” Declan said. “She texted me that… A palmetto bug was in her bathroom. And she’s not from here so she isn’t used to how big they are. So I went in and killed it. Which is why I’m coming in from outside.” It was possibly the most bullshit and convoluted story Declan had ever come up with. But Henry DeGraff seemed to

be bored with him already. He went back to his paper. “When am I going to meet the girl who is living here, anyway?” Henry asked. “I mean, you didn’t even ask if she could stay here and we know nothing about her.” Declan sighed, “You’ve never had any interest in my other friends who’ve rented here. Charlotte is fine. She’s a lot

cleaner and much more dependable than any of my buddies who crashed here before. And she works a lot. But if you and Mom insist on meeting her, I’ll bring her over sometime.” Henry shrugged, “I don’t care either way. She’ll be gone by the end of summer anyway.” Declan’s heart sank. He was actually hoping maybe she could stay

longer. He wasn’t sure if she had plans for next semester yet. “Maybe longer,” Declan said. “She’s still looking for a place.” Henry looked up from his paper, “Certainly not. No, she has to be out by summer. We don’t run a hotel here. I don’t mind you having friends stay in the house for the summer but you know no one stays beyond that. And really, I think

it’s time we stop with the renting out the carriage house stuff. We don’t need the money. It’s a liability risk, really.” Henry went back to looking at the business section. Declan was angry now, “Whatever. So much for helping someone out that needs it. Wouldn’t want people to think the DeGraffs are charitable or anything.” Before Henry could respond,

Declan was out the door, walking quickly back to the only person he wanted to be near right now.

********

Charlotte had woken up not long after Declan left, and was heartbroken to see the bed empty next to her. She started to panic a bit, inwardly, trying to go over

the previous night’s events in her head. But before she could convince herself it was a mistake, he was back. He slipped through the door, his face flushed. He looked upset. “Are you okay?” Charlotte reached for him. “I was worried…” “I’m sorry,” Declan crawled back into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I left to get us breakfast

from the house, since your fridge is always empty. I ran into my dad. He just really irritates me. But you don’t need to be worried, I was coming right back.” She nuzzled herself against his chest, the memory of holding onto him for dear life as he made her come still fresh on her mind. Her inner thighs twitched at the thought. “I’m so glad,” she said. “I missed

you. Even for just a few minutes.” She looked up to meet his gaze and he kissed her softly, growing hard beneath the sheet and the feel of her skin against him. “You’re still naked,” he whispered against her hair. “Do you know what that does to me?” “Show me,” she said, straddling him. “I need you again. I’ve never had

sex in the morning, after all.”

******** Declan had never been with a girl that made him constantly want her. He’d been with girls before and he’d had his fun, but he was always glad to see them leave afterward. With Charlotte it was different. She was the high he never wanted to come down from.

That morning, after making love again, they laid next to one another, panting and smiling, watching the ceiling fan whirl above them. “What have you done to me?” Declan said out loud. Charlotte smiled, “What have we done to each other?” Declan pulled her toward him, “I want to take you to breakfast.”

“It would be more like brunch now,” Charlotte pointed out. “Or early lunch. But I’ll take you up on it.” “Have you been to Hominy Grill?” he asked, sitting up to pull a t-shirt over his broad shoulders. She sat up next to him, the sheet wrapped around her, her wild hair tousled. “Nope,” she said. “I never go out to eat for the most part. Not in this town.”

“God you look good,” he said, kissing her. “You’ve made me famished. I need sustenance so I can continue to give you everything your body needs.” “Oh?” she teased. “And what does my body need?” “Me,” Declan said. “And that’s okay for me to say. Because mine needs yours just as much.”

********

Hominy Grill is one of Charleston’s most popular breakfast destinations. “Get the Big Nasty,” Declan said as they sat down at a table near the window. “It’s what I always get.” Charlotte looked at the menu, “I think I’m getting the huevos rancheros.” Declan took a long sip from his

glass of sweet tea and shook his head, “You’re such a damn Yankee. But suit yourself. You’re going to wish you’d followed my advice when you see them bring me mine.” Charlotte smiled, “Well, you’ll have to give me a bite, won’t you?” It was so different now, between them. Charlotte was almost out of her mind with happiness over what had

happened the previous night. She was still sore, she guessed because it was her first time. But it was a lovely kind of ache, it made her feel like she belonged to someone, and that someone was Declan DeGraff. A guy almost all of Charleston would want to claim as theirs. He’d been so kind to her, so gentle, yet so aggressive at the same time. His

confidence had been what sent her over the edge, and his need to use her body for his own pleasure. At one point she’d had an orgasm that morning that came in waves- one after the other after the other. She’d called out his name, involuntarily. “Declan!” she’d screamed. It had only spurred him into thrusting harder, into coaxing more from her. She’d dug her nails into his shoulders, biting her

lip ‘til it was almost bleeding as he’d fucked her that morning, sweat making them slippery against each other. And now here they sat, just like any other couple, eating a charming breakfast together in a city that now represented the place where she’d finally become a woman. She’d gone from being so miserable to feeling on top of the world.

********

“More,” she begged him later that afternoon. “Please.” She was naked on her bed and his face was buried between her legs. His licks and probes were driving her to the edge of her sanity. He’d take her to the cliff of coming, and pull back, making

her whimper. “Beg me louder,” he growled. “Tell me exactly what you want, Charlotte.” “To come!” she screamed and suddenly that’s exactly what she was doing. She bucked against his face, her hips rising, her toes curling as he sucked on her clit, his fingers inside her. “God,” she whispered as she came down from it. He had slip up to her now,

her legs now wrapped around his waist as he entered her slowly. “I need to come,” he said. “That was too fucking sexy. I need to come so bad, Charlotte.” His eyes were pleading as he thrusted and she wrapped her sweaty arms around him, pulling his face toward hers. “Only if you look at me,” she

whispered. “And I can come too.” She could hear his thrusts, the sound of him going in and out of her making her aroused again. His body was so strong, so commanding and hard with lean muscle. She still couldn’t believe this was happening, that this moment was real. “Charlotte!” he called out to her and she felt him emptying himself inside of

her, his seed painting the inside of her body. She writhed as he slowed his thrusts, growling above her from the pain of the intense orgasm. “Fuck,” he said as he collapsed beside her. “That was the most incredible sexual experience… ever.” She grinned, “But I’m such a newbie at this…” He shook his head, “It doesn’t

matter. You’re so fucking beautiful and perfect and it’s like my body was made to fit inside of yours.” He turned to her, touching her face. “I feel like this has to be a dream. She kissed him then, long and hard, still wanting him even then. “Can I make myself come?” she asked. “I’m still so horny…” She’d never said the word horny to

a man. It almost made her giggle. “Of course,” he said, sitting up. “I want to watch you.” He pulled the sheet off of her and her nipples immediately stiffened. He leaned over and put the right one in his mouth, sucking on it hard. She sighed as her hands traveled down her taut stomach to her pussy. She made circles around her clit, just like

she’d been doing for years, without anyone ever watching. The feel of his mouth on her, and his eyes staring at her intensely, made it easy for the orgasm to happen. She arched her back as she came, moaning loudly as she finished rubbing it out next to him. His tongue flicked over the bud of her nipple and he smiled. “That,” he said. “Was fucking

beyond sexy. What were you thinking about when you did that?” “You,” she touched his face. “I can’t think of anyone else. Ever again.”

********

They’d fallen asleep after that, a long afternoon nap that fell into night time. This time Charlotte woke up first

and she stared at Declan as he slept. He was a back sleeper, and one of his forearms rested on his abs as he quietly snored next to her. She leaned down to softly kiss his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For making me happy. Even if it’s just today.” She hadn’t expected him to hear her, so she was surprised when he replied.

“Why would it be just today?” he asked, his eyes flickering open. “You mean you used me for great sex?” He winked at her and she laughed. “I thought you might…” she started. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe…” He pulled her toward him, “I don’t want it to be just last night. Or today. Or tomorrow. I don’t want this to end anytime soon. Or at all.”

She brushed his hair back from his forehead, “Me either.” “Good,” he said and they kissed for a few moments, the touch of their lips saying more than words ever could.

Chapter Ten Charlotte looked down at her cell. She thought about calling Vanessa to ask her what she should do, but she knew even if Vanessa told her to talk to him, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. I keep saying that, she thought. Fuck. I’m supposed to be relaxing. Now

I feel nauseated. She stood up and walked over to the kitchen. The wine was still on the counter and she took a long swig from the bottle. She peeked through the blinds over the kitchen sink. He was sitting on the beach now, on her towel. Was he waiting for her? Did he really think she was coming back out there? She looked around. Why hadn’t she

gone to the store before showing up here? It meant she’d eventually have to leave the house today, unless she planned on not eating. Which didn’t matter at the moment, since she wasn’t the least bit hungry. “I’ll just order food,” she said out loud, pacing the floor. “Then I don’t have to leave the house. And he’ll eventually have to go away. If he’s

staying at his dad’s, then it’s a good 30 minutes from here.” She took a couple of deep breaths. Her heart was still pounding.

********

Declan had been sitting for a while. He was beginning to feel pretty warm and in dire need of some water. He

glanced back over at Charlotte’s cottage. She hadn’t come back out, no one had. Was she in there talking to her husband? Was he about to get his ass kicked? He sighed and stood up. Might as well go in, he thought. Hopefully the liquor cabinet is stocked. I’m going to need it. As he walked toward his mansion, he couldn’t help but wonder what he

should do next. Was she only there this week? For the summer? Did she live there? He’d looked her up before, out of curiosity. She’d been an OB in Nashville, doing well for herself. Not married then, but everything could be different now. She’d seemed happy, which made him happy. It had to be just for a vacation. She had her own practice, and after what

happened between them, he knew she’d never want to come back here. Charleston was the death of them, the death of her mother. The death of his… No. He couldn’t think about that. There wasn’t enough bourbon in the world for him to handle that kind of trip down memory lane.

Ten Years Ago… They’d become inseparable after that night. When Charlotte wasn’t working, she was with Declan. And when Charlotte was working, Declan was in the carriage house, waiting for

her to come home. “What if,” he said one day, “You became my assistant and quit the Dixie Garden? I could pay you to ‘assist’ me with things.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “First of all, what do you need an assistant for? Second of all, that sounds a little too close to prostitution for my liking. And third? I like working. I like making my

own money and not depending on anyone else.” Declan wrapped his arm around her as they sat on the loveseat in her small living room, “My independent lady. I get it. I just miss you when you’re gone. I sound pretty clingy, huh?” She laughed and kissed him, “If it were anyone else, yes. But I miss you, too. I think about you my whole shift.”

“Yeah?” he said. “I think about you your whole shift, too.” They kissed, long and deep, like they couldn’t get close enough to the other. He pulled away first, “As much as I want to keep going… and going. And going… I have to ask you something.” “Sure,” Charlotte said, suddenly anxious. “What’s up?”

“Well,” he said slowly. “My parents have been bugging me about meeting you. I mean, they don’t know we’re together, but they’re curious about the girl that lives in the carriage house. And they’re not stupid, I’m sure they can figure out you’re not just some random College of Charleston chick shacking up for cheap rent. I think they sense something else is happening.”

“We’re together?” she teased. “Like, officially?” Declan looked up at her, his eyes wide with surprise, “I mean… I assumed we were. Are. Right?” She wrapped her slender arms around his neck, pulling him in for a long kiss, “Yes. Of course.” When she finally pulled away, he continued, “Wow. That was good. Okay,

so yeah. My parents want to meet you, and they’ve invited you to dinner tomorrow night. It will be here; Antonia is going to make a Lowcountry boil so it’s nothing fancy. Very casual. They just want to make sure you’re not a psychopath. But…” He smiled, taking her hand. “I think I want to also tell them you’re my girlfriend.” Charlotte shifted nervously next to

him, “I mean, won’t they think it’s kind of strange that your girlfriend now technically lives with you?” “You’re in separate quarters,” he pointed out. “Is it too soon to tell them?” Charlotte shook her head, “No. Definitely not. But I guess I should maybe think of living somewhere else. So it’s not too weird.” Declan nodded, “I mean, I don’t

care. But usually we only rent out the carriage house for the summer anyway. Which I should have probably mentioned. But don’t worry! I’ll help you find a place; I know everyone in this town. And if worse comes to worse, you stay with me for a bit.” “At a frat house?” she asked. “No thanks!” He laughed, “Okay, I get it. But no

worries, I know I can find you a new place, with a much nicer roommate than Allyn Legare ever was.” “I wish I could afford to live without a roommate,” Charlotte sighed, laying down on the couch, her head in Declan’s lap. “I can’t wait until the day I can truly be on my own.” He ran his fingers through her hair, “Why so eager to be a loner?”

Charlotte looked up at him, “I don’t know. I guess I like the thought of being beholden to no one but myself. I want to revel in the freedom of living how I want and where I want. That’s what money is at the end of the day. Freedom. To make any choice you want.” “Money isn’t always freedom,” he replied. “It can come with a lot of strings.”

“Well, not the kind of money I want,” she said. “Money that comes from my own hard work doesn’t come with strings attached to it. Which is why I can’t quit Dixie Garden. I’ve learned in the last few years that it’s always best to count on just yourself. Other people can let you down.” Declan stood up, gently lifting Charlotte off of him as he did.

“Not everyone will let you down, Charlotte,” he said. “I never would.” She smiled at him sympathetically, “You wouldn’t mean to. I don’t think you would ever purposefully hurt me. But there might come a time where you don’t have a choice. And if it happens, I always want to be prepared.” Declan shook his head, angry now, “How can you say that? I’m telling you I

wouldn’t. I love you, Charlotte.” Silence. The sentence hung in the air, a sentence thick with meaning. She never would have expected him to say it. “Declan…” she said. “I can’t…” “It’s fine,” he said, coldly. “You don’t have to say it back.” “I want to say it back,” she explained. “I’m just not- “ “I said its fine,” he replied. He

looked at her with a sadness she’d never seen in his eyes. “I’ve never said that to anyone before. And maybe it’s fast. Maybe you don’t feel the same way. But it doesn’t change it. I do love you. And I would never let you down. I hope one day you’ll finally realize that.” He walked over to the front door, “I’m going to take a shower and maybe sleep over at the main house tonight. If

it’s okay.” Charlotte was crestfallen, “If that’s what you want.” “Just for tonight,” he walked back over to her and kissed her quickly on the lips. “But tomorrow night, we’ll make it fun. My parents aren’t so bad. They’ll like you. You’ll probably like them. But as long as you at least like me, I can live with that.” He smiled, something she

was glad to see. “Goodnight, Declan.” “Goodnight, Charlotte.”

Chapter Eleven Charlotte watched from the window as Declan started walking across the sand toward the house next door. She was relieved to see he wasn’t coming to her door. Or was she relieved? Part of her wanted to talk to him, to show him she was beyond what

he did to her, beyond the heart break of losing him. She would tell him about her successful practice, that she had graduated from Vanderbilt at the top of her class, that she had been at the top of her class in med school as well. She’d pretend to be confident. She’d stand tall with her shoulders back, her hair no longer a wild mop of curls and waves. She was sleek now, more

chic than she was back in the days when they were together. She longed to be aloof with him, to show him she barely thought of him anymore. It would be a lie, but it would feel good to tell it. But no, it was better that he hadn’t come to her door. She wasn’t the best at pretending she felt a way that she didn’t. She had no poker face.

What would really happen if Declan came to her door- she’d feel nauseated. She’d cry. She’d scream at him for killing her heart, for making it so that she could never love again. Men had approached her over the years, good men, with good intentions. But she was constantly rebuffing, constantly (but gently) declining dates. She stopped even the most innocent flirtations in the

guise of wanting to stay professional. But really it was just her staying guarded. She never wanted to go through a break up again. She’d rather just never love at all. And anyway, it looked like he had a wife now. The older blonde that had left his house earlier. Or maybe she was a friend. Either way, it wasn’t her business.

Charlotte sighed and looked at the clock. It was afternoon. The stress of everything that had happened in her life recently was taking a toll. She was tired. It was time for a nap. Maybe when she woke up she’d find out she’d only dreamt of him. Again.

********

Declan took a long shower. He most often had his best ideas in the shower and he hoped the incredible water pressure of his new home would help him decide what he should do about Charlotte. But it didn’t. He stood under the water until it turned cold and he still didn’t know what the hell to do. “This is ridiculous,” he said out loud to himself. “I should just go over

there and acknowledge her. See what her husband looks like. Try to break the ice and cut through the awkward.” But she’d run away! Fled from him without shoes on her feet. He’d watched her perfect ass trudge through the sand so she could get away from him. So, clearly, just going over to her house and saying hello wasn’t an option. Maybe he’d write her a letter. Put it

on her door. It was passive-aggressive, which was completely not his style, but he couldn’t get the look on her face out of his mind. Yet he couldn’t not contact her. Especially if they were neighbors. He pulled on a pair of shorts and pulled out a notepad from his computer bag. Charlotte…

********

Charlotte woke up a couple hours later, her head heavy from only having had wine today, and her stomach rumbling from hunger. I need to order some food, she thought. I’ll go to the store tomorrow. She padded into the kitchen. The sun

was beginning to set. She could hear the waves lapping against the shore. She glanced outside to see who was on the beach. It was empty. She walked over to the window in the dining room that faced Declan’s house. There was one light on downstairs, the rest of the massive house was dark. In the kitchen, she went through

drawers to see if there were any take out menus. A pizza place was the first one she found. “Pizza it is,” she decided. Thirty-five minutes later there was a knock on her door. She was sitting on the couch, her knees tucked under her while she absent-mindedly watched a reality show featuring squawking housewives. She jumped when she heard the

knock and then slowly walked to the front door. She was relieved to see it was just a young man with floppy hair and a greasy cardboard pizza box in his arms. “Hello,” he grumbled. “It’ll be fifteen oh seven.” “Sure,” she said, handing him a twenty. “Keep the change.” This elicited a broad smile from the

young man, “Hey thanks! Oh, by the way, this envelope was stuck to your door. It fell off when I knocked, sorry.” Charlotte’s stomach dropped. She took the pizza and the envelope, which said Charlotte on the front of it. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Have a good night.” “You too, ma’am!” he said, stumbling down the steps and back to his

Honda Civic hatchback. Charlotte closed the door behind her and walked slowly back to the kitchen. She placed the pizza on the counter, suddenly not so hungry. She knew instinctively it was from him. She tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of yellow paper, the kind torn from a notepad. It

shook in her hand as she read his slanted and still sloppy handwriting.

Charlotte… You ran away before I could say anything, not that I would have known what to say. Seeing you here was one of the biggest shocks of my life, and clearly it was for you too. It’s been so long… I can’t pretend the thought of

you hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two hundred. This wasn’t how I would have wanted to run into you. Is it possible we can run into one another again? Catch up a bit? I would love to talk to you, though I know I don’t deserve any sort of conversation with you. But I also didn’t want to just show up and upset you. So I will leave the ball in your court. I live here now… It’s

a long story, but I’m here for now. I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but if it’s for a while, it’s probably best we talk so neither of us has to feel awkward. All I want is for you to be happy. I hope you are. -Declan

Charlotte could barely read his signature by the end. Everything was a

blur through the tears.

Ten Years Earlier… “What should I wear?” Charlotte stood in front of the fulllength mirror next to her closet clad in only a lacy pair of underwear and bra. Declan walked over to her, bending

down to kiss her neck while his hands roamed over her body, “Nothing at all. That always looks best on you.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and swatted him away, “Seriously. I want to make the right impression on your parents. I don’t want them to think I’m some harlot that’s shacking up on their property.” “Harlot? Who uses that word?” he

laughed as he grabbed her waist and spun her around. “Wear whatever you want. It’s not anything formal. It’s just a regular dinner at the DeGraff house.” “As if anything about your family is ‘regular’,” she retorted. “You live in a house that’s on the National Historic Register. You have a live-in maid. This is not the typical family I’m meeting here.”

Declan stopped to kiss her softly on the mouth, “You’re flailing. Don’t flail. It’s all okay. What’s the worst that can happen? They hate you? It’s not likely, but even if they did, it would probably only make me love you more.” He grinned. “I’ll go with the Lily,” she said, sashaying back to her walk-in closet and sifting through the rack of clothes

hanging there. “It’s Charleston. I can never go wrong with some Lily Pulitzer, right?” “I guess,” Declan said, collapsing on Charlotte’s bed. “I’ve never known what the big deal is about her. The prints are so weird.” “She’s classic,” Charlotte was muffled as she spoke to him from inside the closet. “Jackie Kennedy wore Lily!”

“I’d rather be with a Marilyn,” he said. “And you are definitely a Marilyn.” “Well, I kind of hope not,” Charlotte said. “It didn’t work out very well for her.” Declan shrugged, “It doesn’t work out very well for any of us in the end.” Charlotte stiffened. “Shit,” he said, suddenly realizing

how it sounded. “That was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dismiss…” Charlotte smiled, “It’s fine. I’m not that sensitive about my mother. And its kind of true, isn’t it? So we might as well enjoy the moments we have.” She held up the dress to examine it more closely. “Yep. This’ll work. If I can tame this wild mane of mine, I might just look

like a respectable Charleston girl.”

********

It was strange to enter the main house. Charlotte saw the outside of it every morning, and admired the Roman Tuscan columns and the moss-covered stone steps that led to the large, wood paneled door of the DeGraff home. It

had two stories of sweeping, wrap around porches. It was something out of a movie, Declan’s house. And going inside it made her very nervous. When they walked inside, they were greeted by a grand foyer with double staircases cascading up to the next floor, a considerable chandelier hanging high above between both sets of stairs. “Wow,” Charlotte couldn’t help but

utter. “This is beautiful.” Declan took her by the hand, “The dining room is this way.” They walked through numerous rooms to get there; a library, an office, and a home gym. Charlotte was speechless. The dining room consisted of a long mahogany table that could fit at least twenty but was set for four people, all

on one end. “I can smell dinner already!” Declan declared. “What do you think?” “I think I need to catch my breath,” Charlotte said. “You grew up here?” “Yep,” he replied. “So did my dad. And his dad. And his… Well. You know. The DeGraffs have been around a while.” “I see,” Charlotte said, suddenly

nervous. She wiped her hands against the side of her dress. “Is your mom from here too?” “She’s actually from Alabama. Mountain Brook,” Declan said. “She met my dad at her sister- my aunt’sdebutante ball. He was an escort.” “Romantic,” she said. “Like something out of a…” “There you are!” a voice called

from behind them. They both turned to see Anna DeGraff standing behind them. She was a tiny woman, shorter than Charlotte, but classically beautiful with styled blonde hair and big blue eyes like Declan’s. She wore a lavender kaftan and flats. Large diamond earrings hung from her ears, so heavy from the weight of the stones that they stretched her earlobes a bit.

She looked like money. “Hey, Momma,” Declan said, stepping forward and bending down to wrap his arms around her. “You look nice.” “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, her eyes on Charlotte. “And this must be our summer tenant. Well, don’t you look lovely?” Charlotte smiled, “Thank you, Mrs.

DeGraff. It’s nice to finally meet you.” “Please, dear. Call me Anna,” she replied with a comforting smile. “I hope y’all are hungry. Antonia has made quite a meal for us tonight. Have you ever had a Lowcountry boil, Charlotte?” “No, ma’am,” Charlotte said. “Oh, you’ll love it,” Anna replied, motioning for them to sit down in the seats across from her as she gingerly sat

down in her own chair. Demonstrating the decorum he’d begrudgingly learned at countless cotillion classes, Declan stood until his mother was seated and then offered Charlotte a chair, which he pushed into the table once she was comfortable. “It’s sausage, crab, shrimp, corn-on-the-cob, and red potatoes. It’s a staple around here, we have it every so often. It’s nothing fancy but it’s our

favorite meal here. Right, Declan?” Declan nodded, “I could eat it every day.” He squeezed Charlotte’s knee under the table. “Your daddy should be here shortly,” Anna said. “Until then, Charlotte, why don’t you tell me about yourself? You go to the college?” Charlotte nodded, “Yes, I plan on being pre-med once I get all of my

general prerequisites out of the way. I’m about to be a sophomore.” “Oh, how lovely!” Anna said. “I like an ambitious girl. You want to be a doctor?” “Yes, I’d love to be a pediatrician,” Charlotte said. “Or maybe an obstetrician. I can’t decide yet.” “Well, you’ve got time. That’s so admirable,” Anna said. “I wish Declan

here had a clue as to what he wanted to do.” Declan rolled his eyes, “Like you said, plenty of time to decide.” Suddenly, they heard footsteps coming from the other room and with all the discretion of a bull in a china shop, there was Henry DeGraff. He was tall and imposing, a large man with a gruffness in his features. Henry was a

man that suffered no fools, and Charlotte could tell right away that if she should be anxious about meeting anyone, it was him. “Dinner’s not out yet?” Henry said. “I don’t have all the damn time in the world, I’m supposed to meet with a client over on Montagu at seven.” “Henry,” Anna said, warning in her tone. “Now, be polite. We have our guest

with us tonight. This is Charlotte.” “Oh,” Henry glanced at Charlotte. “You’re the girl squatting in the carriage house?” Charlotte gulped and Declan responded, “Dad. She’s not squatting. She’s renting it out, just like we do almost every summer. Jesus. Squatting?” “It was a joke,” Henry said, but no one believed him.

An awkward silence ensued but it was broken by the entrance of Antonia carrying a large pot. “Dinner’s ready,” she said. “Good evening.” Charlotte was relieved to have a distraction. Henry DeGraff had really caught her off guard. She sensed maybe her being in the carriage house was not something he’d been consulted about.

She wanted to kill Declan. The four of them began to eat, the sounds of silverware clinking the only sound in the room for a few minutes. “So,” Declan finally spoke. “How are things?” Anna smiled, “Very good. I spent the morning with Helen planning the St Vivian Ball.” “But it’s not until December,”

Declan said. “You already have to start planning it?” “Oh yes,” Anna said. “There’s a lot that goes into it. Helen was wondering if you could be one of the escorts.” “What’s the St Vivian Ball?” Charlotte asked, wanting to show her interest in what was happening. “It’s a debutante ball,” Declan said. “Probably the biggest one in Charleston.

And boring as hell.” “Declan!” Anna said. “That’s not true! It’s a beautiful affair, Charlotte. Don’t listen to my silly son. The girls wear these big beautiful white dresses and there’s dancing and food and everyone drinks too much, so the whole place is in a great mood.” “You should go with me,” Declan said. “You can be my date.”

“She certainly cannot be your date,” Henry DeGraff suddenly bellowed. “You know good and well she’s not allowed at St Vivian. It’s for members only.” Suddenly everyone was silent. Charlotte wanted to fall through a crack in the floor and never be seen again. “Dad,” Declan said. “She’d be my guest. And since when do you even care? You hate the St Vivian Ball. You

don’t even go anymore.” “I’m just being honest,” Henry said. “You know how it is. This is Charleston. Unless Charlotte is from one of the old families or is the daughter of a member, she can’t come.” “Since when did you become such a snob?” Declan raised his voice. “It’s a stupid dance where girls get paraded around like they’re part of some weird

virginity auction.” “You better watch your tone, boy,” Henry said, pointing his butter knife at his only son. “I don’t like how you’re speaking to me.” “I don’t like how you’re speaking in front of Charlotte,” Declan said. “It’s pretty rude to come into dinner, not even acknowledge someone, and then tell them they’re not good enough to

participate in your fucking archaic ritual.” Henry threw down his napkin, “You will not use such language in front of your mother. I won’t tolerate it. I think it’s about time you left the dinner table.” “Well on that we both agree,” Declan said. “Charlotte, come on. I’m so sorry you had to witness this crap. And by the way, I was going to tell you this

after a nice dinner, but I might as well say it now. Charlotte is also my girlfriend. And I was really looking forward to introducing her to you both. But for people who claim to be such experts on etiquette and manners, you seem to have none. So, yes. We’ll be going.” He stood up and offered his hand out to Charlotte. She took it as she glanced over at

Anna, who was giving her a sympathetic look. “Charlotte,” Anna said. “I’m sorry about this. I hope we can maybe make up for it. My husband and my son, unfortunately, do this often. Just know it’s not you. It’s them.” And with that Charlotte followed Declan out of the dining room and back to the carriage house.

********

“God, he pisses me off!” Declan yelled as they walked into Charlotte’s bedroom a few minutes later. He kicked his shoes off and collapsed onto her unmade bed. “He can be such a dick.” “I didn’t take it that way,” Charlotte said, lying next to him. “I’ve been

treated much worse by my customers. And he was just being honest. I didn’t take it personally.” “Well, I take it personally,” Declan said. “He’s always like that. He loves to make people feel beneath him. He really gets off on it. He’s all about being exclusive and keeping a tight circle. He and his asshole friends who think their shit doesn’t stink because their great-

great-great grandfather showed up here one day on some boat from France. I mean, seriously, what kind of people base their identity on something like that? I’ll tell you the kind. People who have nothing else going on for themselves.” Charlotte stared at him. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Anyway,” Declan said, pulling her

on top of him. “I have something else planned for us for tomorrow. A surprise of sorts.” “Oh yeah?” she said, kissing his neck. “Tell me!” “Nope,” Declan smirked. “You know me, Char. I like to show you things. Not just tell you.” He slid his hands up her dress. “Now, let me have my dessert.”

********

The next morning the two lovers had changed into more comfortable clothing and were driving in Declan’s BMW towards Charleston Marina. “So we’re traveling by boat?” Charlotte asked as they pulled into the parking lot.

“Yep,” Declan said. “Hope you don’t get seasick.” “I have no idea if I do or not,” Charlotte replied. “I’ve never been on a boat before.” Declan looked at her surprised, “Really? Never?” Charlotte shook her head, “Nope. This will be another first.” Declan grinned, “I like popping so

many of your cherries.” Charlotte smacked him on the arm as he laughed, “You’re terrible, Declan DeGraff.” They walked hand in hand down the dock to a small house boat. “I rented her,” Declan said, hopping off the dock and onto the stern and holding out his hand to help Charlotte get across. “We’re going to float around

today and spend the night on her tonight.” Charlotte’s eyes widened, “Really? Declan, this is so great!” She threw her arms around him and he lifted her up so he could reach her mouth. She tasted like summer time and felt like a dream. “Well, it’s been on my bucket list,” he confessed.

“What’s been on your bucket list?” “I’ve never made love to someone on the water before,” he whispered in her ear. “Or fucked anyone. And I’d like to do both of those things tonight, if you’re up for it.” “Always,” she said. “Tonight, you own me.” And every night after, she admitted to herself.

********

“Fuck!” Declan was pounding her mercilessly from behind in the small bedroom of the house boat. They had yet to leave the marina, instead choosing to christen every part of the boat with their need for one another.

“I’m gonna come,” he announced. “Inside you, Charlotte. I need to come deep inside you.” She pressed her heels into the back of his muscled thighs and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, “I need it too, baby. Please!” “From behind,” he growled. “I want to look at your ass.” He grabbed her hips and turned her

over so that she was on all fours, leaning on her elbows as he continued to thrust into her very eager body. “Yes!” she called to him. “You’re hitting me so deep!” As he pistoned in and out he could feel the wave of pleasure traveling up his shaft. “I’m coming,” he yelled. “Fuck, Charlotte. You’re making me come so

hard!” His scream was primal and deep as he released. Charlotte could barely take what his body was giving her. He was so large and so strong and she was still adjusting to the girth and size of him. She was constantly sore these days, but in the best possible way. And knowing she could make this man come so hard and with such intensity, made her feel more

like a woman than anything else in her life ever had. They were both panting as he slowed down. He ran his hands up her sweaty back and cupped one of her breasts, the nipple still hard. “That was fucking amazing,” he said as he laid down beside her. “My heart is pounding. Feel it.” He took her hand and placed it on the left side of his chest.

“You did that to me, Charlotte Sanders.” She leaned over and kissed his mouth, “All I want is to make you feel good, Declan.” He ran his hands through her hair, staring at her for a long moment. “You make me feel good in every way,” he said. “I had no idea what we have is possible.” She settled into the crook of him,

laying her head on his chest. “Me either,” she whispered.

********

That afternoon they were finally on their way, traveling slowly down the Intracoastal Waterway. “So where are we going? And how did you learn to drive a boat?” Charlotte

asked, leaning against Declan as he steered. “I’ve grown up on boats,” he said. “My dad has always owned one and we spent a lot of time out on the water. Still do, when we can tolerate each other.” He smiled at her. “And where we’re going is a surprise. But it’s not far.” Charlotte settled back on the bench seat on the stern. It was a beautiful

Charleston afternoon. They waved at passing boats and water skiers. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever been happier. “The main reason I decided to take you to this place,” Declan said from over his shoulder. “Is you’ll never see a better sunset than where we’re heading. You’ll remember it the rest of your life. And you’ll always remember you saw it

with me.” Charlotte’s heart swelled. She should have told him then, right then. That she loved him so much, that she couldn’t see herself ever feeling the way she did about him with anyone else. But she sensed it still wasn’t the right moment. It was on the tip of her tongue. He’d been able to tell her so easily, but that was the thing with Declan-

everything was easy for him. But for Charlotte it was harder to articulate what she felt. She was still adjusting to the fact that this was happening at all with him. It scared her how happy she was. Being this happy made her nervous. How could someone like Declan DeGraff ever understand that? Nothing bad had ever happened to Declan that she knew of.

A breeze rustled through her hair as they sailed on. She was anxious to see what Declan had up his sleeve. She loved looking at the large homes they passed with their long piers and large live oaks with branches hanging over the water, Spanish moss swaying in the wind. This was the Charleston she loved so much. “Almost there,” Declan said a little

while later. “Have you heard of Capers Island?” Charlotte shook her head, “Nope. Tell me about it.” “Well, it’s one of the barrier islands. We’re going to explore it,” he said. “And I brought some food so we can have dinner out on the beach. And catch that sunset I was telling you about. You brought your bathing suit, right?

Might want to change into it.” “Sure,” Charlotte said, standing up. “Too bad we can’t swim naked.” “As much as I would love that, Capers isn’t that secluded. I only wish,” Declan said. “I can’t think of anything sexier than you naked on an island with wild hair and not a single tan line.” By the time she’d changed, Declan was stopping the boat to dock it on a

long wooden pier, right off the shore. Charlotte walked out onto the stern. She’d put on a lavender bikini with strings that tied on her curvy hips. As soon as he saw her his eyes about popped out of his head. “Jesus,” he said. “You’re so fucking hot.” Charlotte blushed, “I feel like maybe I have no business in a bikini.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No one has more business being in a bikini than you do,” he said, sweeping her up into his arms. He kissed her. “The bikini was invented with you in mind.” “I’m tempted to take you again on this boat before we disembark, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t have the self- control to stop myself, and we’d miss the sunset.”

Charlotte grinned, “Have me on the beach. What could be better?”

********

Capers Island is uninhabited and as undeveloped as it gets. Declan had bought up all the permits for the night. He wanted to ensure no one would run into them, not that he’d told Charlotte

that. The county usually allowed 50 campers a night, but Declan wanted them to be as isolated as possible. He set up their tent while she walked around the island, climbing the large branches jutting out from the sand. “I’ve never seen anything like this!” she called to him. “They look like bones!” “Yep,” he shouted out to her.

“They’re bleached white by the sun and the salt air. It’s called Boneyard Beach.” Charlotte walked back toward him, “Makes sense. They’re like tree skeletons. They’re beautiful.” Declan wrapped his arms around her, “I’m glad you appreciate it. It’s my favorite place in all the world.” “Thank you so much for bringing me here,” she stood on her toes to kiss his

mouth. “I love it already. And thank you for putting up the tent. You did that fast.” “Well, I’ve camped out here a time or two,” he said. “You hungry?”

*******

Declan wasn’t kidding. Once they finished eating the sandwiches he’d packed, they sat side by side on one of

the larger tree skeletons and watched the skies change from blue, to lavender, to purple, and amber. The sun set on the horizon and Charlotte couldn’t believe she was here to witness something so striking with someone she loved. “Declan,” she said, touching his hand. Her voice was shaking. “I love you.” He looked at her, surprised.

“I love you so much,” she continued. “I wanted to tell you the other night, I really did. I’ve felt that way for weeks now. And it gets more intense every time I see you. It’s like… It’s like I don’t just love you. A word doesn’t exist for it, for how this feels.” She looked out at the ocean. “I sound so ridiculous.” “No,” he said. “I’m just so damn

lucky you feel the same way I do. All I wanted was for you to feel half of what I feel. Hell, even just a quarter.” He stared out at the ocean. “It’s just like the ocean is at the mercy of the moon. I’m the tides and you’re my moon, Charlotte. And I can only hope to be your moon too.” He leaned over to her then and they kissed, the long kind. There was

something about kissing someone for the first time after telling them you loved them that made Charlotte love it more than any kiss he’d given her yet. “Make love to me,” she said. “Please. I want to end this perfect day doing the thing I love more than anything else in the world.” “As you wish,” he said, jumping from the branch and holding out his hand

to help her down. “You’ll never have to ask me twice when it comes to that.”

Chapter Twelve Charlotte wasn’t sure what to do now. She was torn. It was the common theme of the day, apparently. She felt so many emotions at once after reading that letter and seeing his name signed at the bottom. It brought so much back all at

once. She needed to talk to Vanessa. Charlotte fumbled around her purse looking for her phone. When she finally found it, it took her a few moments to keep her hands from shaking so she could dial Vanessa’s number. God I hope she answers, she thought. She might be at work. Fortunately, she did. On the third

ring. “Char!” Vanessa’s cheery voice answered. “I was waiting for you to call me and tell me you made it okay.” “I texted you, didn’t I?” Charlotte asked. “Yeah, but I was hoping you’d call,” Vanessa said. “But its okay, you’re calling now! How’s Charleston? How are you?”

Charlotte sighed. Where to even begin? She told Vanessa everything, the incident on the beach, the letter, her running away from him. “What do I do?” Charlotte asked. “I don’t know what to do. Should I just leave in the middle of the night? Go somewhere else? Maybe Isle of Palms or Folly? Or Mars?” Vanessa was quiet on the other end.

“Charlotte,” she finally said. “You know how strange this is, right? That you go to Charleston for the first time in ten years and you not only run into him but you end up renting the house right next to his? Isn’t this… Kind of how it always is when it comes to him?” Charlotte sighed, “Yes. Coincidence is not my friend.” “You know I don’t believe in

coincidence,” Vanessa said. “I’m the one who believes other forces are at play when it comes to these things. I mean, this is crazy, Charlotte! It’s kismet. It’s fate!” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “It is not. Declan DeGraff is not my fate.” “Well, the universe sure seems to want to push you two together whenever it has the chance,” Vanessa said. “And I

don’t know what you’re running away from when it comes to Nashville, but I know that running away from Declan is not what you actually want to do. That’s why you’re calling me, right? To get permission to reach out to him.” Charlotte guffawed, “It most certainly is not. I called you just to tell someone… I mean. Okay. Maybe I did call you to get your opinion, but I really

don’t feel like reaching out to him is necessarily the best course of action. I mean, you know how hard it was for me…” “I know,” Vanessa said. “And Lord knows he doesn’t deserve a damn thing from you. But I also know what you look like whenever he’s mentioned. Like you’ve just been hit. Like it’s painful. And the past is muddy but maybe this is

a way of making it clear again.” “So what are you saying, V?” Charlotte asked. “Go to him,” Vanessa instructed. “Just this one last time.”

********

Declan had never been so anxious. Not even during the sale of his company.

It was nothing compared to this. He’d left the envelope on her front door right before the pizza delivery guy had shown up, and he was relieved to know he’d timed it perfectly. He’d watched from his window as the kid picked up the envelope and handed it to her. So Declan knew for sure she had it. He wasn’t sure what to expect now. He was afraid of two things. First, he

was afraid there was a husband or boyfriend in the cottage with her that would not take too kindly to another man sending her a letter like the one he’d left. Not that it was anything intimate, but he could figure how it might appear. The husband or boyfriend might march right over and threaten to kick his ass. The second thing he was afraid of was that she would do nothing. That he

would hear nothing. That made him more scared than anything else. He needed to talk about this with someone. Someone who knew the Charlotte situation, which was a very small circle of people. Winston Ravenel. Declan dialed his number as he continued to glance out the window.

God I look like a creeper, he thought. Winston answered on the first ring. “DeGraff,” Winston said. “You callin’ to make plans? Because I was thinking of heading your way tonight. Maybe hit up Poe’s Tavern.” “No, I’m not calling to make plans,” Declan said. “Believe it or not, I’m calling for advice.”

Winston paused. This was something Declan never needed from him. If anything, Winston was the one that always needed the counsel. “Well, I’m all ears,” Winston said. “I can’t even possibly begin to fathom what you’re about to ask me.” “Well, it’s Charlotte,” Declan began. He filled Winston in on what had happened on the beach and his letter.

“You left a letter?” Winston said. “Isn’t that kind of… juvenile? I mean, it reminds me a little bit of middle school.” “Fuck, man. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to scare her by knocking on her door,” Declan explained. “So it was lame. I can admit that. But it’s done. What do I do now?” “You let it go,” Winston said. “You

broke up with her. And clearly it did a number on her. I still don’t even know why you dumped her in the first place. I know you didn’t want to. Did your dad make you or something?” Declan grimaced, “Hell no. I wouldn’t break up with a girl because my parents told me to, are you kidding? No, it was… complicated. And no, it wasn’t something I wanted to do, but it

is what it is. And I was just thinking that maybe this is destiny’s way of getting me back with her again. Or at least it’s pointing me toward her so we can get better closure.” Declan slumped down on the kitchen floor. “She’s probably taken anyway. But if she doesn’t respond to the letter, what should I do?” “Nothing,” Winston said. “What did you always tell me? See things as they

are and not how I want them to be? Well, buddy, it’s time for you to hear the same thing. See things as they are. Charlotte has moved on. She’s got her own life now. Besides, you’re the same guy that was hooking up with hot co-eds just a couple days ago. You’re in your element now. Forget about Charlotte. Enjoy the present. Leave the past exactly where it should be left. Behind you.”

“You’re right,” Declan admitted. “Completely right. I’m going to let it go. Shit, now I wish I hadn’t written the damn letter at all.” “That whole move was pretty out of character for the Declan I know,” Winston said. “You sure you don’t want to meet up? Get some drinks?” “Nah,” Declan said. “I’m wiped. I think I’m gonna go to bed early, have a

chill night. Thanks, man.” “Any time,” Winston said, and they both hung up. Declan looked at the wall in front of him for a long while, considering what Winston had advised him to do. Winston had a good point. The past was better laid to rest. But God, he wanted to see her. Just talk to her. Maybe explain things… That

part would be tougher. Telling Charlotte why he’d broken up with her would possibly cause her much more pain than breaking her heart had, years ago. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do. He stood up and looked out the window. To his surprise, he could see her front door opening, followed by the slam of a screen door. It was Charlotte.

And she was heading straight for his house. Her walk was determined and she was coming quickly. Without a second thought, Declan was out the door and walking toward her. When she saw him approaching, she slowed down a bit, but kept walking. They met almost exactly halfway between their properties. Up close, she was still just as

beautiful as she’d been on the beach. And even more beautiful than he remembered her being a decade ago. “Declan,” she said. Her expression was impossible to read. “Charlotte,” he said. This was it. No matter what was best for either of them, he knew what he wanted to do. Before she could say a single word,

he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. His mouth was on hers and she wasn’t pulling away. It was all he needed to know. It wasn’t over. Not yet.

Ten Years Ago… “Are you sure about this?” Charlotte asked as she and Declan walked up to the main house entrance. “About what? Having lunch with my mother? Sure! My dad isn’t here, so we

can actually have a nice time,” Declan replied as he opened the door for her. “No, I mean,” Charlotte’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Moving in together? It’s so fast… And I just don’t want to upset your parents. I feel like they already don’t like me.” “First of all, yes. I’m sure. I mean, we’d be at each other’s houses all the time anyway. There’s no point in both of

us paying rent. And my father doesn’t like anyone. Seriously. He doesn’t. And my mom likes you. She just wants to get to know you better. She didn’t get much of a chance last time,” Declan assured her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her head toward him so he could kiss the top of it. “I love you, Char. I can’t wait to see you every day. I’ll probably never go to class, but

waking up to you every morning will be worth repeating a semester or two.” Charlotte smiled, “I love you too, but I am not failing out for your punk ass.” He laughed as they entered the dining room. This time there were just place settings for three and a tray of sandwiches and another of fresh cut fruit were already laid out.

“Hello, darlings!” Anna said as she came in from the kitchen. “I’m so happy to see you again, Charlotte!” “Good to see you, too,” Charlotte said. Anna walked over and pulled her in for a warm hug. “You look pretty as a picture,” Anna told her. “Thank you.” The three of them sat down, this

time Declan and Charlotte were across from each another and Anna sat at the head of the table. “Let’s dig in,” Anna said, grabbing a small cucumber sandwich from the tray. “I didn’t eat breakfast.” They began to eat, Charlotte and Declan stealing glances at each other every now and again. Charlotte couldn’t believe this handsome boy was all hers.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since their afternoon on Capers. Declan had made love to her twice that night. The first time had been gentle, his hands running up and down her body. She felt like she was being worshipped. She’d come while on top, calling out to him. “I love you!” she’d cried. Later that night he’d taken her more

roughly, waking her up in the middle of the night to fuck her from behind while she looked out at the tide pools. She’d come violently, making her beg him for more. And now he was sitting across from her, looking like the picture of southern gentility. She wanted to crawl under the table and put him in her mouth. She could feel herself getting wet just

thinking about it. “So, Charlotte,” Anna said. “Declan tells me you’re from Nashville.” “Yes, ma’am,” Charlotte replied, blushing. She was sure everyone could tell she was thinking filthy things. “It’s a wonderful town,” Anna said. “One of my sorority sisters is from there.” “Oh, that’s nice,” Charlotte said.

“Mom, I hate to interrupt, but I’m anxious about something and you know how it is, I think it’s better just to lay things out on the table,” Declan said, looking over at Charlotte. “But Charlotte and I are moving in together. In the fall.” Anna froze. She had half her sandwich in the air, about to take a bite but after Declan made his confession, she’d slowly put it back down on her

Hermes plate. “Do you think that’s such a good idea?” Anna said. “I mean, I’m a broadminded person, I don’t think there’s anything terrible about living together before marriage, but y’all just started dating. And you’re so young. You’re not even done with school yet. Why the rush?” Anna glanced over at Charlotte. “It has nothing to do with you, Charlotte.

I would ask these things if it was anyone. This is very unlike my son, so you have clearly become someone very special to him.” Charlotte nodded, “I understand.” “Mom, we’re not too young. We’re adults. And it’s stupid to pay rent at two places,” Declan said. “We’d be together all the time anyway.” “We can afford it, sweetheart,”

Anna said uncomfortably. Declan sighed, “Yes, but… most people can’t. It would help Charlotte out, which helps me out. I just want her to be happy.” “I feel kind of embarrassed,” Charlotte suddenly said. “I didn’t want to live with Declan for money reasons. I want to live with Declan because I love him.”

Anna’s eyes widened, “You love him?” Charlotte nodded, “Yes. Very much. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Anna stared at her for a long moment. “What about your parents, Charlotte?” Anna asked. “Would they be okay with this?” “Well, I haven’t talked to my dad

about it yet,” Charlotte said. “And your mother?” Anna said. Charlotte looked down at her lap, “My mother died when I was thirteen.” “Oh my goodness,” Anna said, reaching her hand across the table to take Charlotte’s. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know. Declan hadn’t shared that with me.” “It’s okay,” Charlotte said, looking

up. Tears in her eyes. “I know my mother and I will admit, she wouldn’t be so thrilled with my shacking up with a boyfriend. But I also know she’d want me to do what made me happy. And she trusted me. Even when I was young, she trusted me to make good decisions.” “Well, she raised a very lovely girl,” Anna said. “I won’t lie and say I’m thrilled with the idea. Only because

I don’t think either of you realize how hard it is to live with someone. You’re in the honeymoon phase at the moment. I see how the two of you look at each other. But love is about more than that. And you have your whole lives for this kind of responsibility and commitment. But if you’re sure…” “I’m so sure,” Declan said, gazing at Charlotte. “And one day I’ll be asking

you for Grandma DeGraff’s engagement ring. Because Charlotte is it for me, Momma. There’s nothing else I will ever want but her.” Both women stared at Declan, their jaws almost on the floor. Declan laughed, “Don’t worry, no one is getting engaged today. That’s down the road. But I have no doubt the only girl I’ll ever want to marry is the

one sitting at this table.”

********

After lunch, Charlotte had to leave for her shift at Dixie Garden. “Thank you so much for lunch,” Charlotte said. “I really enjoyed it.” “You’re so welcome, Charlotte,” Anna said. “You’re welcome here any

time. You have a lovely day at work.” Declan had decided to stay behind to spend some time with his mother. Ever since Charlotte had come into his life he’d been around less, something he felt slightly guilty about. He worried about his mother all the time, and today he wanted to make up for some lost time. “You’re really kind to her,” Declan said as they both walked out onto the

porch. “Do you like her?” “Of course,” Anna said. “I like her a great deal. But it scares me, what you two have. That much intensity is not healthy at your age. I’ve never known you to be like this.” “Because I’ve never loved anyone before,” Declan said, shrugging. “Isn’t this what you and dad were like? In the beginning?”

“Not quite,” Anna said. “It was a different time though. But yes, I like Charlotte very much. She’s a smart girl, works hard for what she has. I admire that.” They both sat down on the porch swing that faced out onto the back garden of the DeGraff home. “Well, good,” Declan said. “That’s important to me. That you like her.”

They swung quietly for a moment, Declan’s legs moving them back and forth. “How did her mother die?” Anna asked. “Do you know?” Declan nodded, “Yes, it’s a really tragic story. They were vacationing in Folly Beach six years ago. Her mother went to the store to pick something up and on her way back she was hit by a car

running a red light. The car didn’t stop to see if she was okay. It was a hit and run.” Declan paused. “I’ve never been so angry at someone I never knew. How could someone do that? Hit someone and leave? What if they’d stayed? Maybe her mom would have lived. Maybe not. But it really destroyed their family. It’s why Charlotte ended up here. I think in a way she feels like if she’s here, where it

happened, maybe she opens herself up to answers. Even though it’s impossible at this point.” Declan continued to push the swing while his mother listened, “It makes me feel bad that the only reason I know Charlotte, in a way, is because something really terrible happened to her. If her mother had lived, I doubt she would have ever moved here for

college. You know, she got into Vanderbilt.” He looked over at Anna who hadn’t said anything. Her face was pale and her chin was quivering. Her hands were shaking. “Mom,” Declan said. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” “Six years ago?” Anna asked. “Was it in the summer time? This time of year?

Beginning of August?” “Why?” Declan asked. “I think so. I don’t know for sure. Why do you ask?” “Because,” Anna said. “I need to go inside, Declan. I really feel like I might faint all of a sudden.” He stood up and offered her his arm. She stood up on wobbly legs and he walked her into the house and up the stairs to the master bedroom Anna

shared with Henry. Declan was worried. He hadn’t expected the story to upset her this much. “Mom, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Declan said as he laid her across the bed. “Do you want me to get you water? Do you need Dad?” Anna shook her head, “No, son. I’ll be okay. I just need to be alone for a moment.”

Declan nodded, “Okay, Momma. I love you. I’ll leave you be.” “I love you too,” Anna said and Declan left, shutting the door behind him. He paused for just a moment, the sound of what might have been muffled sobs coming through the door. He reached for the knob, but decided against it, walking back down the hallway to the

stairs.

Chapter Thirteen Declan couldn’t remember how they ended up at his house. He assumed they’d walked there together, or maybe he’d carried her. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that as soon as he’d touched her, it was like going back in time.

They’d ended up in his bedroom, Charlotte stripping out of her clothes, Declan stepping out of his khaki shorts and quickly pulling his t-shirt off. Her body was golden and hot to the touch. Her breasts were large and heavy under his hands, larger even than he’d remembered, but her curves were just as smooth and sinful as he remembered them.

The Charlotte of the future was more much assertive. She threw herself back on his bed, spreading herself open, her hair wild around her and her expression one of pure lust. “Do you remember what I feel like?” she asked, her voice husky. He hadn’t heard it in so long. It was the same but different. “How could I ever forget?” he said

and he was immediately on top of her and then inside her, almost coming as soon as he entered her. She was wet and willing, but so tight around him. He slowly thrusted in and out, barely believing this was happening. “You feel so fucking good,” he said. Her arms were around his neck as he fucked her slowly, kissing her with each stroke. She was like liquid underneath

him. “Please!” she called out. “More, Declan. Harder! I’ve missed you!” What was it about this fucking woman that made him have so many damn emotions? He hadn’t allowed himself to feel a damn thing since she’d left Charleston ten years ago. He didn’t deserve love, not after letting Charlotte Sanders go.

Yet she missed him. Despite what had happened. “I’ve missed you every day since…” he said, quickening his pace. “Since I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life.” “Baby…” she said, touching his face. “Why did you leave me?” Tears were falling down her cheeks and Declan couldn’t take it. His heart

pounded as he came inside of her, filling her with his soul, and all of the anguish of ten years. The sound of his release pierced the air, he couldn’t help but scream her name as he finished.

********

“I didn’t want to leave you.” They’d been lying next to one

another for almost twenty minutes in complete silence after getting out their aggression on each other’s bodies. Neither had known what to say. “Then why did you?” Charlotte asked, turning toward him. She was naked, without even a sheet to cover her. He couldn’t stop staring at her body. Fuck, she was hot. “It’s complicated,” Declan said.

“But it was the wrong choice. I felt it as soon as I made it. At least, it was the wrong choice for me. But at the time, it was the right choice for you.” Charlotte’s expression changed to anger, “What the fuck, Declan? So you know what’s best for me? Please. Just admit it. Your rich daddy didn’t want you with some common girl from Tennessee. So you dumped me. That’s

the message I got. Loud and clear. Don’t make it about something else. Own what you did.” She was crying now. “You killed me that day, Declan. You blindsided me completely and then didn’t even try to make sure I was okay once I was gone. I was vapor to you. A summer fuck, right? Because guys like you, once they get what they want, they get bored. Just fucking admit it!”

She hadn’t meant to yell at him but she couldn’t help it. It was over ten years of anger coming out all at once. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her toward him. “That wasn’t it at all. I was a fucking mess after we broke up.” “Do you really expect me to feel bad for you?” Charlotte asked, pulling away. “Fuck you, Declan DeGraff.” She stood up and starting pulling her

clothes back on, “It was a mistake to come over here. A big mistake.” Declan sat up, the sheets wrapped around his waist. He buried his head in his hands. “It’s not a mistake,” Declan said. “Charlotte, we ended up in Charleston at the same time. After years of being away from it. And then we end up in houses right next to each other. Do you really

believe that was coincidence?” “Yes,” Charlotte lied. “I do.” Declan shook his head, “I know you better than that. This is happening for a reason, Charlotte.” “Fuck your reasons,” she said, pulling on her shoes. “I don’t want to hear them. Goodbye, Declan.” “Charlotte,” Declan said, standing up. “Don’t go. Fuck. You really want to

know why I left you? Because if it will make you stay, I’ll tell you.” Charlotte stared at him, “Tell me. It will make me stay for now. But then I’m gone.” Declan’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it. This wasn’t how he’d wanted any of this to go. That fucking letter, he thought.

“I don’t know how to even say this,” he said. “Can I at least give you a preface?” “A preface?” Charlotte said. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. A preface and then the truth.” “Deal,” Declan said. “Let me preface it with this: I loved you, Charlotte. I still love you. I’ve never loved anyone else. I am not capable of

loving anyone else. As punishment for what I did to you, I have not allowed anyone in. Not even close. All my passion for you I poured into my work. Into my business. I was hoping one day it could be different and that if we ever met again I could have built something for us. But as the years went on, I knew it couldn’t be. But I have never stopped wanting it, Charlotte. And I have never

stopped loving you. It’s just not possible for me to. Some people, they get a piece of you, and you don’t get it back. And the part of me that is able to love, that’s the part you took. And it will always be yours, even if you don’t want it.” Charlotte was quiet now. Her expression had softened. “That being said,” Declan said, choking up. “What am I about to tell you

is really bad, Charlotte. And it will change so much. It will change everything.” “Declan, stop it,” Charlotte said. “You’re scaring me.” Declan pulled her toward him and held her tight against his chest. He knew it might be the last time after what he was about to reveal. “My mom,” Declan said, trying to

hold back his emotion. “She killed herself about seven months after you left Charleston.” Charlotte looked up at him, “Oh my God. Declan. I had no idea. I feel terrible. That’s so… Why didn’t you tell me? Reach out to me?” He shook his head, “I couldn’t. There’s more. I wish there wasn’t, but there is.”

“Okay,” Charlotte said. Her head was against him now. “I want to hold you so badly right now.” He wrapped his arms around her tighter, “I love you. Well, before my mother died, actually the night after you had lunch with her, my mother confessed something very terrible to me. Something that ended up eating her alive for years, something she had never shared with

anyone else.” Declan took a deep breath, “My mother was an addict. Pills mostly, and alcohol. She was in a loveless marriage of convenience. Expected to be the constant Stepford southern wife, always smiling. But she was in so much pain and I never understood why. But one night, after meeting you and learning about your mother, she confessed her

reasons for being especially sad the previous five years.” Charlotte was quiet now. “My mother,” Declan said. “She is the hit and run driver that killed your mom. She got incredibly drunk at a party on Folly and tore through a red light in her Lincoln town car. She knew she’d hit someone but she was terrified to stop. She was scared that she’d be in trouble,

which would mean she’d be in the papers. Which would inevitably sully my dad’s perfect fucking reputation. And she assumed she hadn’t caused any damage. That’s how loaded she was. So she left the scene, Charlotte. She left your mother…” “To die,” Charlotte finished. “Your mother. Left my mother. To die.” Declan was crying now, “Yes. It

was so wrong, Charlotte. It was really fucked up and I told her that and I know it’s hard for you to believe it, but she knew it was fucked. She had no idea she’d hit a woman and the woman had died until a couple days later when she saw it on the news.” Declan was clutching Charlotte now. “And as soon as she told me, I knew I had to tell you. But she begged me not to, Charlotte. She

said if I told you, she’d kill herself. That she couldn’t be ruined now, that she couldn’t go to prison. That she couldn’t disappoint the DeGraff name.” “Fuck her,” Charlotte said, pulling away. “And fuck you for not telling me, Declan. You knew I needed to know. You knew I have needed to know that my whole life. And like your mother would have served one day of jail time. Not

with the kind of people you all know.” “Charlotte, I’m telling you that I know I was wrong,” he said. “I made the wrong decision.” Charlotte was backing away now, backing away from this man she now realized she never really knew. “And here you go,” she cried. “Breaking my heart again. I love you so much, but I also hate you so much.” She

sobbed. “I wish I’d never come to Charleston. Then and now. I wish I’d never met you, Declan DeGraff.” And with that, she turned around, went downstairs, and walked out. This time, Charlotte would be doing the leaving.

Chapter Fourteen Declan was a man destroyed. The sound of his front door slamming shut might as well have been a death knell. It was the death of him and Charlotte for good, as he always knew it

would be, once she knew the truth. The silence around him rung in his ears. He preferred to hear her screaming at him. Because he deserved it. And at least it meant she was still there. But now she was gone. He couldn’t get her back this time. Being with her, loving her again, just reminded him how beautiful it had all really been. Over the years he’d tried

his best to diminish what they’d had together. He’d tell himself it wasn’t as intense and amazing as he remembered, that his memory was playing a trick on him. No one could exist as perfect as her. But now he knew- it had been just as passionate and fiery as he’d recollected. Which made tonight’s ending that much harder for him to take.

Declan had never been one to have suicidal thoughts. But now he understood what true anguish felt like, and why people couldn’t live with it. There was nothing he wouldn’t have done to make this different. But just as Charlotte wished she’d never met him, in a way he wished the same. Because, at least then, he would never know what he’d missed. He’d

never have to know this kind of pain, the pain that went straight to the marrow of his bones. The kind of pain that touched every piece of his shattered heart.

********

Charlotte had struggled to walk back to her house. Her sobs and wails pierced the sky. She looked up to see a

blanket of stars, and how she wished she could be among them and away from this place of constant hurt. For just a moment, she’d made herself believe everything could be okay. His touch was just as she remembered. It brought her to her knees. His love was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She had a hard time believing anyone in the world had ever

felt the kind of intense sexual chemistry she and Declan shared. His body made her feel like she was home again. She’d cried while he made love to her because she’d forgotten how much she needed it at one time, and how unbearable it had been all these years without it. She was ruined for anyone else. And she almost hated him for that. As she stumbled through the front

door and finally made it to her bedroom, she collapsed on the bed, finally free to let out the emotion she’d been struggling to hold in on the walk back. Her wails had turned to screams now, screams of anger at the universe for cursing them in this way. Hadn’t God taken enough from her? Hadn’t she fought for happiness and peace enough? Yet she could never find it, not here, not in Nashville.

Even now, she still loved him. She wasn’t sure she knew him, but what she knew she loved with such a force that was outside of her own will. If it had been anything else, she could have taken it. But this secret… Now she understood. It hadn’t ever been about her. It had been about protecting someone else, even if he tried to use her as a scapegoat. He’d been protecting the

DeGraff name. It came before everything, even justice. How could she ever get beyond that?

Six Weeks Earlier… Charlotte had been treating Melanie Hopp for all eight months of her pregnancy. Melanie was a young, soonto-be first time mother- newly married when she found out she was pregnant.

She had resisted finding out the sex of the baby at her 20-week anatomy scan, but Melanie Hopp couldn’t wait any longer. Now that she was 33 weeks, she was tired of waiting on the surprise. She had to know. When Charlotte had informed her the baby was a boy, Melanie had about jumped out of her skin with joy. “Oh that makes me so happy!”

Melanie drawled. Melanie was from the country, out near Franklin, and Charlotte found her to be completely charming. She was one of her favorite patients. “You really wanted a boy?” Charlotte said, smiling. “Yes! Well… I would have been happy with just a healthy baby. But my husband really had his heart set on a son. He didn’t say it, just a feeling I get. And

now I get to tell him I’m giving him one!” Charlotte nodded, “When will you get to talk to him?” Melanie’s husband, Jason, was in the army and on deployment in the Middle East. He’d had to leave soon after Melanie found out she was pregnant and, unfortunately, he probably wouldn’t be back in time for the birth.

Yet Melanie never seemed to let that get her down. She was a cheerful soul, always one to look on the bright side of things. Charlotte couldn’t help but be in a good mood after her appointments with her. Melanie had a special kind of contagious energy that injected joy into everyone she spoke to. “We’re going to Skype tonight!” Melanie squealed. “Naked Skyping.

Sorry, you probably didn’t need to know that. But I like to keep it spicy. Remind him of what’s waiting for him back home, you know?” Charlotte laughed, “Naked Skyping. That’s a new one.” “Yeah, all us military wives do the naked Skyping. Skype Sex! Oh my goodness I’m sorry. I’m just so happy, it’s making me say embarrassing things!”

Melanie giggled. “But I guess being that you’re an OB you have probably heard a couple things about sex.” “Just a couple,” Charlotte winked at her. “You really love each other. It’s a beautiful thing.” “Yep,” Melanie said, her voice going soft for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder if I love him too much. Like, I love him so much I can barely breathe. I

want to burst out of my own self half the time. I keep waiting for something bad to happen to me, because how is something like this kind of love possible? You know?” Charlotte did know. Hearing Melanie say it out loud suddenly made her think of Declan, something she tried to avoid at all costs. But the only reason she understood what Melanie meant was

because of her short time with him. “I actually do know,” Charlotte admitted. “But Melanie, that’s not how the world works. It’s not always checks and balances. Incredible happiness does not need to be balanced out by sorrow. You should enjoy this time and enjoy what you have. Not everyone gets it. You’re very lucky.” Charlotte smiled. “And this baby boy is very lucky to be

brought into a world where he will be loved so much.” Melanie had tears in her eyes now and suddenly her arms were around Charlotte’s shoulders, pulling her in for an embrace. Charlotte was usually coldly professional with her patients, so at first such demonstrative affection caught her off guard. But finally, she decided to just

let it happen. Maybe it was time she did that more, after all. Maybe it was time to start letting the world back in.

********

Charlotte met with her sister Vanessa later in the evening for drinks and conversation. Lately Charlotte had

been so consumed with her practice and with work that the sisters hadn’t been able to spend much time together. “So what’s new, sis?” Vanessa asked as Charlotte scooted into the booth at Piedmont Grill, their favorite hangout. “Long time, no see. You should call Dad, by the way. I am so tired of fielding his questions about you. I feel like the Sanders PR rep between you too.”

Charlotte sighed, “Phones work both ways. He can call me too.” “He does. You don’t answer,” Vanessa said, taking a bite out of one of the complimentary tortilla chips. “And you barely answer when I call. We get that you’re doing well and you’re passionate about your work. But we miss you, Char. The last few years you’ve been so distant.”

“Years?” Charlotte replied. “Well, then maybe it’s just my personality. I’m not… Super communicative. I’m sorry about that. I’ll try my best to be better. And maybe in a few years I can settle down a bit, and work less. But right now I’m building my- “ “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re building your brand, your business, your empire, your whatever,” Vanessa

interjected. “But you don’t have to forget the people who love you while you do it. No one is so busy they can’t make a phone call once or twice a week.” Vanessa looked down at her lap. “We’re all we have, Charlotte. And sometimes I really miss you. I respect the hell out of you. But I kind of feel like you pour yourself into work to avoid things maybe you could be working on.”

“Such as?” Charlotte sat back and crossed her arms. “Please. Do tell me what I need to be working on.” “Don’t take it like that,” Vanessa said. “It’s just, you’re beautiful and smart. And you have so much going for you, but you also have zero personal life. No boyfriend, no friends, no hobbies. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret not developing

that part of your life.” Charlotte shook her head, “Vanessa, you always pride yourself on being such a feminist. And now you’re telling me I need a man to be happy.” “That’s not what I’m telling you!” Vanessa said. “I wouldn’t care if it was a man, a woman, a fucking dog. But you need companionship, we all do. We need something outside of what we do for a

living.” Charlotte shrugged, “I really don’t. I’m happy with this life. I can definitely make more time for you and dad, but this is my dream I’m living. I don’t have to depend on anyone for anything.” “Why is it so terrible to depend on people?” Vanessa asked. “Your patients depend on you. I depend on you. We all get a lot out of that. Why can’t you let

someone in, Charlotte? What are you so afraid of?” Charlotte didn’t say anything for a moment. There was so much she could say to that question. They didn’t have enough time for the list of the things she was afraid of. But it all boiled down to one word. One name. Declan. She was afraid of that happening again.

But she wouldn’t burden Vanessa with that, and besides, her phone was buzzing. “Hang on,” Charlotte said. “I have to answer this. It’s the office.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Fine.” Charlotte had never been so grateful for an interruption. She thumbed over the green answer button on her iPhone and held it to her ear.

“This is Dr. Sanders,” she said into the phone. The voice on the other end had very bad news. Charlotte’s face turned pale. “I’ll be right there,” she said. “I’m on my way now.”

********

Melanie Hopp had been in a car

accident. She was on her way home from her appointment with Charlotte when it happened. She’d started to move her car forward at a green light when another car came barreling down the street, running the red light. They’d t-boned Melanie’s car and then kept going. Hit and run. It was a story all too familiar to

Charlotte. But she couldn’t think about her mother now. What mattered was making sure Melanie and the baby were okay. Melanie had been airlifted to the hospital where Charlotte worked, and she was being prepped for emergency surgery. As Charlotte ran through the halls of Nashville Memorial Hospital, she was

met by one of her colleagues from medical school, Dr. Erin Whitmer. They’d graduated together and had remained close. They’d yet to be in this kind of situation together. “Is she stable?” Charlotte asked as she scrubbed in. “The baby?” “Baby’s heart is still beating but we don’t know what damage has been done,” Dr. Whitmer said, as she

scrubbed next to Charlotte. “She has extensive abdominal trauma. We won’t know the full extent until we get in.” Dr. Whitmer looked down at her hands. “It’s not looking good.” Charlotte tried not to convey any emotion at this news. She was a doctor and this was part of the deal. Life and death were always on the line. She’d been trained to deal with these things.

She’d lost patients, she’d had to tell mothers their babies had died, she’d had to ruin people’s lives with the news she gave them. It wasn’t her favorite part of the job, but it was a necessary part. But Melanie Hopp was different. And this situation was too similar to her past. Charlotte looked at this as a way to make things right. She would not let Melanie and her

baby die. When she and Dr. Whitmer got to the OR, it was already a hectic scene. Melanie’s heart had stopped beating. One of the paramedics was still on top of her with the defibrillator, trying his best to get her heart pumping again. “She’s coding!” he said, stopping defibrillation. He was doing chest compressions now. “We need to get her

prepped.” Charlotte knew what that meant. It was time for her to deliver the baby. In case Melanie wasn’t going to make it. Everything was moving in slow motion. She was trying her best to keep her head clear, to remember what needed to be done and not think about who she was cutting into. They were fortunate- the baby was 33-34 weeks

gestated, so if they could deliver him, chances were good he would make it. But they had no idea how much oxygen he’d lost or for how long. It was a scary time. Charlotte had to keep it together. She went through the motions, concentrating on the task as chaos happened around her. It was becoming much clearer that Melanie was probably

not going to make it. Charlotte had to be quick to save her baby. If there was anything she could do to make this have some sort of silver lining, it was really up to her to make it happen. Fortunately, the trauma to Melanie had not impacted her uterus, and when Charlotte pulled the tiny baby boy out of Melanie’s dying body, the OR was suddenly filled with the sound of his

high-pitched screams as cold oxygen hit his body for the first time. It was the best of signs, it meant he had probably not been without oxygen long enough for any damage to have been done, but being that he was still premature, he needed to get to the NICU, stat. As much as Charlotte wanted to stay and be with Melanie, it was her job to take care of the one thing Melanie loved

more than anything in the world. It was time to save the only one that could be saved.

********

Melanie Hopp had lived long enough for her child to be rescued, but she passed away soon after the emergency C-section. She never got to

hold her baby, or kiss him goodbye. Her tiny child would never have a single memory of the mother who had been so excited to be his. Charlotte stayed overnight with him. His lungs were still underdeveloped and he was on a ventilator for now, but all signs pointed to him being okay. It was a miracle, and the staff at the hospital were giving Charlotte a lot of accolades

for saving him. But she’d never been so miserable. She’d laid in the bathroom and cried for almost 20 minutes, thinking about the injustice of what had happened today. It made her question the point of life, when all it seemed to bring was painful moment after painful moment. Why did anyone even have children? Knowing the risks and knowing that life

could be flimsy and unsteady, why did people do this to themselves? Having a child meant being scared forever. It meant possibly leaving them behind, even when you weren’t ready. After the day Melanie died, Charlotte couldn’t put her heart into her work. She’d show up at the office late, she’d leave early. All she wanted to do was go back in time and save Melanie.

Save her mother. Save herself. Charlotte was on the very edge of a mental break. And she knew that wasn’t a safe place for a doctor to be. People depended on her to keep it together and be in the right frame of mind to make the hardest decisions. But Charlotte couldn’t do it anymore. After years of being strong, she had nothing left. Not after seeing it

happen again. A life lost for no good reason at all. And justice would never be served, more than likely. Just like it would never be served for her mother. Charlotte decided she needed a sabbatical. She needed to get away from Nashville and return to her other home. And that is how Charlotte Sanders ended up back in Charleston.

Chapter Fifteen Declan had told his father’s nurse that he’d be coming by in the morning to check on him. “He isn’t doing well,” the woman warned him over the phone. “He’s in a great deal of pain. It’s important you spend as much time with him as you

can.” “Does he ask for me?” Declan said, running his hands through his hair. “He doesn’t need to,” the nurse said flatly. “You’re all he has.” Declan sighed. She was right. “I’m on my way,” Declan said. “Just make him as comfortable as you can.” As Declan walked outside into a perfect Charleston day, he glanced over

at Charlotte’s house. Her car was still in the driveway. She hasn’t left yet, he thought. Is it ridiculous to hope she’ll stay? He shook away the thought. There was probably no way in hell he’d ever see or speak to her again. Not after what she knew. Before she’d run away, he’d wanted to tell her he knew he’d made the wrong decision. That it had eaten him

alive ever since, that he’d never been able to find any sort of contentment with the secrets he held. If he could go back in time, he’d do it all different. Especially, since despite keeping his mother’s secrets, she’d still taken her own life anyway. He couldn’t think about that right now. It was time to focus on what was at hand. His father.

It was the one relationship he had left. He couldn’t let that one fall apart, too. Not when there was so much still yet to be said.

********

“Where the hell have you been?” Henry DeGraff sat propped up in a hospital bed that had been set up in the

DeGraff living room. Henry couldn’t climb stairs anymore, so it made it easier for him to be on the first floor, where everything was more easily accessible. “Well, good morning to you too, Dad,” Declan said as he sat down in the silk upholstered chair next to his father. Henry DeGraff’s appearance was alarming. He’d once been a man with a

large presence. He was well over six feet tall with a broad chest and shoulders. He’d been incredibly handsome his entire life, a man who could charm women and intimidate men. But now he was a mere shell of his former, robust self. Henry was shriveled up and pruned. His legs were thin, his shoulders bony. His skin was papery thin and pale. He’d lost 50 pounds in the past

4 months. Declan found it hard to look at him. It broke his heart. “I thought you’d be around more,” Henry sniffed. “I’m dying here and you’re still partying away. Probably drinking and fucking and- “ “Jesus,” Declan interrupted. “Can you stop? I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. Just… Don’t.”

Henry shook his head, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. You should be doing those things, you’re young and healthy, with all your life ahead of you. And more money than sense. You’re living the dream. And I’ll be dead soon, so you won’t have to feel bad about doing any of it.” “Stop it with that bullshit,” Declan said. “What, you think you’re going to

die and I’m going to suddenly have this need to go on a debauched rampage?” “I would hope so,” Henry grinned. “It would make me proud.” Declan laughed, “Well, in that case…” They had a rare moment of peace between them. “I just,” Henry continued. “I want you to be happy. Do the things you want

to do, not the things you have to.” Declan looked at his father, “Since when the hell do you care about anyone being happy? They must have really hit you up with the morphine today.” Henry laughed, and to Declan it sounded a little like the past. It was a deep, guttural chuckle from the well of what was left of his father. Declan had forgotten that, despite his misgivings

toward Henry, he really loved the sound of his laugh. It had a low and hearty timbre to it. It was one of the world’s most pleasant sounds. “Maybe so, son,” Henry said. “But I always cared. I just thought I knew what was best for you to get there. Apparently I was wrong. You’re richer than any DeGraff has ever been in the history of our family.”

Declan rolled his eyes, “Fuck money. It doesn’t mean I’m happy.” “Spoken like someone who’s never been poor,” Henry replied. “Ha!” Declan laughed. “And like you would know what that was like? You were born with a silver spoon up your ass. And so was Granddaddy.” “I don’t have to experience poverty to understand how shitty it is,” Henry

said. “Just like you don’t need to have cancer to know how insidious it is. You can see me with your own two eyes, can’t you?” Declan looked away for a moment, unable to say anything. “It’s fine, son,” Henry said. “And I know you’re right. Money doesn’t always mean you’ll be happy. But it’s not even just about that. You built

something, on your own. You saved our asses in the process. We were about as close as it gets to going bankrupt and losing this house and our reputation in this town.” Declan looked at his father again, “What would that have mattered anyway? What is the deal with ‘reputation’? It’s just another word for ‘I care way too much about what other

people think.’ I didn’t bail us out financially for that bullshit. I did it because I love my family.” They sat quietly for a moment, neither of them saying a word. “I know,” Henry finally spoke. “You did it for your mother.” “No, Dad,” Declan said. “Mom is dead. I did it for you.” They’d never had a conversation

like this before. Declan’s conversations with his father tended to be short and were always punctuated with a slamming door or angry last word. But both men were realizing there wasn’t time for that anymore. It weighed heavy on them both. “Thank you, son,” Henry almost whispered. “I don’t know if I ever said it.”

“You didn’t have to,” Declan replied. “You never will.”

********

They spent the rest of the morning watching Sports Center and The Price is Right while Henry’s nurse administered his pain medication and tried to get him to eat something.

“I’m not eating a damn thing,” he scoffed. “I’ll just throw it up anyway. The thought of it alone makes me nauseated. Give me some alone time with my son.” The nurse sighed, “I can make you a smoothie if it would be easier. But you need some calories, Mr. DeGraff.” “I said no!” Henry yelled, throwing the remote control across the room.

The nurse didn’t even blink, “Fine. We’ll try later.” “The fuck we will,” Henry muttered as she swiftly walked away, tray of lunch in hand. “Dad,” Declan said. “Was that necessary?” “She’s always pressuring me,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t like it. I told you to let me fire her.”

“She’s doing her job,” Declan pointed out. “Despite you treating her like shit. You’re lucky she doesn’t quit. I would.” “Yeah, well,” Henry said. “You don’t know what it’s like.” “I know,” Declan said, leaning forward. “I don’t. I’m sorry to give you a hard time. Just let her take care of you. That’s all she wants to do. Don’t take

your anger out on her. Hell, take it out on me if you want. I deserve it.” “No,” Henry shook his head. “You’re a good son.” “I’m not a good person though,” Declan sighed, sitting back against the chair again. “You know; I saw Charlotte yesterday. She’s in town.” “Charlotte?” Henry asked. “Sanders? From college?”

“Yep,” Declan said. “Our paths have crossed yet again.” “You know,” Henry sat up a little bit. “You never really told us why you ended it with her. You really loved that girl, didn’t you?” Declan nodded, “Yeah. I did.” “So, why?” Henry asked. “Too young?” Declan shook his head, “No. It

wasn’t that. It just wouldn’t have worked out.” “Why, because she’s not from here?” Henry asked. “You never cared about that shit. Much to my chagrin.” Declan laughed, “Yeah. That’s true.” “You know,” Henry said. “I almost broke up with your momma when we were engaged. Did you know that?”

Declan shook his head, “No. I never knew that. Why?” “Well, your grandma wasn’t a big fan of her. Said she was too… What was the word she used? Whimsical. That and she said your momma was too quirky. That she thought too deep.” Henry laughed at the memory. “As if that’s a bad thing, to have depth. Said I should pick someone simpler. But no. The thing

she didn’t like about your momma was the thing I loved the most. Anna was complex. Beautiful. She took things to heart. Too much to heart.” Declan had never in his life seen his father cry, but Henry DeGraff had tears in his eyes, “I let her down in the end. Really, it was me who she shouldn’t have picked. I was too hard on her. Tried to mold her into what I wanted.

Who could take that?” Henry’s lip quivered and Declan did the closest thing to hugging his father that he’d ever done - he placed a hand on his gaunt shoulder. “Dad,” Declan said. “It’s not your fault. Momma was sick… She wasn’t well. People don’t do what she did because of just one thing or one person. You can’t blame yourself. I’ve spent

plenty of time thinking of what I could have done differently, or what warning signs I missed, but it’s all a waste of time. In the end, I don’t think there’s anything we could have done to keep her from making the decision she made. Sometimes the world is just too much for a person to handle.” Declan was trying his best not to cry. Not now. “But I know she’s okay, Dad. Wherever we go after

this, whatever happens, it’s a place where she can be okay again. The pain of living inside her head is gone. She’s free. And she’s waiting for us. You know that?” Henry nodded, “It’s the only thing that gets me through this cancer shit. That and the narcotics.”

********

Henry drifted off after that. After watching his father sleep for a while, Declan walked out to the carriage house to have a moment alone and drown himself in nostalgia. Once Charlotte left Charleston years ago, Declan could never bring himself to go back into the carriage house. Even now, as he entered it 10 years later, he

swore he could still smell her in the curtains, in the sheets. He walked into the room and he could see the apparition of her leaning over the vanity in her underwear, putting on lipstick, yelling at him to stop ogling her ass. But you’re so beautiful, he would have said. God, he still loved her. His muscles hurt from the pain of missing her. The

previous night was both a dream and a nightmare. Running his hands up and down her body had been a piece of heaven returned to him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the same bed on which he’d first made love to her so long ago. There had to be a way to fix all the wrongs. Fate had conspired to have them physically collide with each other.

Twice. One collision could be dismissed as something random. A second felt more like grand design. Declan had tried to forget about her through booze and a buffet of other women, women who couldn’t come close to equaling the intensity of his passion for her. None of it worked. He couldn’t let her leave this city without one more chance.

Ten Years Ago… Nothing could quite equal their night on Capers Island. But they’d tried many times to replicate it. The best nights were the ones in the carriage house. Charlotte loved being

romanced and surprised, but if she was honest she preferred the comfort of the little home they’d made that summer and her most treasured memories lived there. She’d come home from work and Declan would already be in bed. Usually in just a pair of boxers with a takeout order of Thai food on the nightstand. “Is it terrible that I never get sick of Thai?” she’d ask as she’d leap on top of

him. His hands would wander down the curve of her back to her ass. “Is it terrible that I never get sick of your body?” he’d say as he kissed down her neck. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’m hungry.” Charlotte would laugh. “My clothes aren’t stopping you from eating, Mr. Hungry.” “Oh yes they are,” he’d say. “I

prefer my dessert first.” Their routine was heaven. She’d let him slide off her jeans while she pulled off her shirt and bra, leaving her naked except for a very tiny pair of panties. “Ah, pink,” he’d say. “I like pink days.” She’d squirm, “Please. Take them off.” He’d slide them off slowly and then

place his face inches from her sex, reverently inhaling her scent, the feel of his breath on her clit being absolute torture. “What do you want?” he’d ask. His voice lowered a couple of octaves when he was aroused. She loved that about him. He was all man. “You,” she’d plead. “Your mouth on me. Make me come.”

Before she’d have to ask again, he was devouring her, coaxing an orgasm out of her with his tongue. She felt like she was being opened up by him, slowly, and with such intensity that her heart would race. Before she knew it, she was screaming out his name, letting him know he was giving her exactly what her body so desperately needed. She’d ache to have him inside her

by then, and beg him for it, but his unquenchable thirst for her demanded a series of her climaxes on his face before he’d seek his own pleasure. Eventually, he’d have to fuck her. His cock would become so hard that it was painful. Her luscious curves drove him insane and he’d enter her with such force that she would cry out from his girth. But her wetness welcomed him,

enveloped him, and he would fuck her hard at first, needing to pound her so she could feel his desire for her. “Fuck,” she’d cry. “You’re so hard, baby. My pussy can barely take it.” “Good,” he’d growl. “I want you to feel it tomorrow. So you’ll remember.” She came so easily for him, so eagerly, and he got so much pleasure out of knowing that he was the man making

her come. He’d throw her legs over his shoulders to penetrate her more deeply, watching her eyes roll back in her head from the ecstasy, making it so hard for him not to release into her right then. “I love you,” she’d whisper, running her hand up his muscled abs. “Baby, I love you so much.” It was his cue to take it slower. He’d put her legs down and lay over her,

thrusting slowly in and out of her as she sighed, her hips raising to meet his rhythm. “I love you too,” he’d say. “I always will.” It was what she needed to hear to come again, and it was what he loved to say to her. He’d never meant something so much in his entire life. “Please come inside me,” she’d say,

her eyes sleepy and content. “It makes me feel like I belong to you.” “You do, Charlotte,” he’d say, quickening his pace. “Completely.” “I love you, Declan. God! I’m coming again!” Her cry echoed throughout the house and it was met by his roar, the orgasm flooding from his shaft, his seed spilling into her wet and eager body, a pleasure

like nothing he’d ever felt before. It felt like she was pulling his very soul out of him. And it was like that every time. Afterwards they’d lay together, tangled up in sheets and sweat. Neither could believe how happy they were; the post-love bliss was like being drunk or high off something cosmically good, a drug no company could ever invent.

“I never want this to end,” Charlotte would say. “It never has to,” Declan would reply, kissing her head. If he’d been told any different, he would never have believed it.

Chapter Sixteen Charlotte had watched Declan leave, grateful to see his car pulling out of the driveway. She needed to get out and she hadn’t wanted to risk leaving the house if he was watching her. She’d contemplated leaving Charleston. And she was still thinking

about it. But for now, she’d wait and see. She’d paid for the rental house and it was non-refundable. Though she wasn’t hurting for money, she didn’t want to waste it. She could avoid Declan. And he probably wanted to avoid her too. If he knew what was good for him, anyway. So she’d gotten dressed, fixed up her hair and headed downtown to King

Street for some retail therapy. It was so different being back in this city with money. She felt like she had arrived in a way, and after valeting her car at Charleston Place, she’d walked around for blocks, strutting her stuff in her Givenchy skirt and YSL top, a pair of sensible but stylish Tory Burch flats on her pedicured feet. Much to her dismay, The Dixie

Garden had been replaced by a Starbucks, but everything else looked almost exactly the same. It was a beautiful day, albeit hot as hell, and Charlotte couldn’t help but be temporarily boosted in her mood, swept up in the hustle, bustle, and energy of King Street on a sunny summer afternoon. Despite the bombshell dropped on

her head last night, she could choose to be happy today. After all, she’d come to Charleston to find that place again, the part of her heart and spirit that was capable of joy, even after being hit with life’s worst. As she walked down the narrow sidewalks of King she noticed a woman walking toward her who looked incredibly familiar. But how? Charlotte

barely had any friends or acquaintances when she’d lived here. So how… Allyn Legare. It was obvious as the woman got closer. It was her old roommate. Damn. Charlotte was tempted to duck into a store to avoid her. But then part of her wondered if Allyn would even remember her. And another part of her wanted to show her how well she was

doing now. She was torn. Ultimately, the decision was made for her. Allyn locked eyes with her once she was about ten feet away, and though Charlotte felt like she looked different, Allyn recognized her almost immediately. “Charlotte?” Allyn said, her drawl still as syrupy as it had been ten years ago. “Charlotte Sanders, is that you?”

Charlotte feigned surprise, “Yes! And… Allyn? Is that you?” Allyn nodded vigorously, a huge smile lighting up her face, something that caught Charlotte off guard. “Yes! Oh my GOD! Charlotte Sanders! What are you doing here? My Lord, I can’t believe it. Where are you going? What are you doing? Do you have a few minutes to catch up?”

So many questions at once, and Charlotte was still in shock to even be standing here talking to Allyn after so long. “Well, sure,” Charlotte said, smiling. “Want to grab a coffee?” “Yes! Let’s do it!” A small coffee and pastry shop was across the street and the two girls sashayed their way around stopped

traffic to get to the other side. “I guess we just jaywalked but to hell with it!” Allyn laughed as they both entered the café. “I just can’t believe I ran into you. Wanna sit down?” “Um, yes,” Charlotte agreed. “Sounds good.” The two women, who had only known one another as girls, sat across from each other in a narrow booth, both

awkwardly quiet for a time. Neither knew what to say. “Charlotte,” Allyn finally started. “I’m really glad to see you. What brings you to Charleston?” Charlotte smiled, “Just a little vacation. I’m the partial owner of a practice in Nashville and I needed a break. A sabbatical.” “Practice? Are you a doctor?”

Allyn asked. “Yes. An obstetrician.” “Just like you said you would be,” Allyn said. “Wow. That’s fantastic.” There was something so different about Allyn Legare now. The condescension was gone, the snobbishness. The grown up Allyn Legare was bright eyed with a kind smile and seemed genuinely interested in

how Charlotte was doing. Charlotte had no idea what to make of it. “And you?” Charlotte asked. “How are things?” Allyn smiled, “They’re okay. I’m a stay-at-home mom to twin girls. They’re in school right now, but I’ll pick them up in a bit. They go to the Baptist school down on Meeting.” “Oh, nice.” Charlotte wasn’t sure

what else to ask. “So,” Allyn said. “I should probably say something so it’s not so awkward.” “Okay…” Charlotte said, suddenly nervous. “I really need to apologize to you,” Allyn said, somberly. “I was a real shithead to you when we were roommates. And I’ve felt bad about that

for a long time. Especially after you ended up leaving town. I felt like I might have had a part in that, and I can look back and really acknowledge what a bitch I was to you.” Charlotte sat there, shocked. It was the last thing she had expected. “I tried to look you up online a few times,” Allyn continued. “But girl, you don’t have any social media accounts!”

Charlotte laughed, “Yeah. I’ve been slow to adapt to that whole thing. My sister makes fun of me for it.” “No, it’s a good thing,” Allyn said. “I respect it a lot. It means you’re actually living life and not just doing it vicariously through a screen like so many of us do.” Allyn smiled. “You look gorgeous. But then again, you were always beautiful. I was so jealous. So

many things seemed to come easy to you. And I was dealing with so many issues with my self-esteem and sense of who I was. But you always had it so together!” Allyn laughed. “No wonder Declan DeGraff fell so hard for you! God, so many girls envied you.” Charlotte shook her head, “That’s so insane. I didn’t have it together at all! I was poor as dirt, always stressed about

money and class, and all kinds of things. And you and so many other girls seemed so carefree and vivacious.” Charlotte sighed. “It’s funny. I guess you just never know what a person is going through.” Allyn nodded, “Ain’t that the damn truth.” She reached her hand across the table and placed it on Charlotte’s. “I hope you can forgive me. I really feel like this was my chance to tell you in

person how sorry I am. I’ve actually prayed somehow it could happen. Selfishly for me, but also for you. I was lucky to have you in my life, even for a brief amount of time. And I wish we could have been friends. I could have used a Charlotte Sanders in my life.” Charlotte found herself almost tearing up, “Wow. Allyn…Of course. Thank you, for apologizing. As far as

I’m concerned, we’re friends now. If you’re ever in Nashville, I’m just a phone call away.” She was surprised to know she meant it. “Well, that’s great!” Allyn beamed. “But you know what? I’d love to see you more while you’re here! How long are you staying?” “I’m not sure,” Charlotte confessed. “Maybe a couple weeks.”

“Fabulous! So you can come out to the Carolina Ball!” “I can?” Charlotte asked. “What is the Carolina Ball?” “It’s this event we hold for charity. I’m on the committee for it. It’s actually tomorrow night, which I know is short notice. But I would love for you to be my guest. My husband is out of town. We can sit at a table and drink and gossip

and have a good ol’ time. What do you say? It’s an open bar!” Charlotte laughed, “Well, you did kind of say the magic words right there.”

********

By the next night, Charlotte was starting to regret agreeing to this whole ball thing. It helped her keep her mind

off Declan and his revelation, but other than that it seemed like a lot of work to get gussied up. And Charlotte dreaded having to socialize. Allyn had her housekeeper bring over three gowns for Charlotte to pick from. “Since I’m springing this on you, the least I can do is dress you,” Allyn said as they’d left the café the previous day.

“Are you sure? I could run to the mall or something,” Charlotte said. Allyn shook her head, “Nope. You’re wearing couture, honey. You’re going to be the belle of the ball!” The thought of wearing a designer dress in a room full of people who would have at one time ignored her as she served them limp Caesar salads was more than a little tempting. Allyn was

really giving her a chance to have her own coming out in a way. And she couldn’t help but accept.

But now that it was time to actually go, Charlotte was dreading it. She really just wanted to stay home and listen to the ocean while she sat on her porch and drank wine, staring at Declan’s house and reliving the past in her mind.

That was until the dresses arrived. All three were exquisite. One was a Badgley Mischka in blue, another was a Carolina Herrera in red, and then an especially stunning Valentino in blush pink. Charlotte’s head was spinning at the options. She had no idea which one to choose. She texted Allyn: This is insane! These dresses are gorgeous. How am I

supposed to choose between them?? Allyn replied: Such a terrible problem to have, I know! If I were you, I would go with the Carolina Herrera. The red with your coloring will knock everyone to the floor when you make your entrance. Charlotte replied with a smile: Red it is.

********

If there is anything Charleston knows how to do, it’s throw a party. The Carolina Ball was one of biggest social events of the season, something Charlotte had remembered hearing about the year she’d lived here. She never in a million years would have ever thought she’d be attending it as a guest.

Especially as one of Allyn Legare’s. As she waited for Allyn to come pick her up (She’d insisted on it. “That way we can drink as much as we want!” she’d cackled over the phone) Charlotte took one last look at herself in the full length mirror in the bedroom. Right at six o’clock, a sleek stretch limousine pulled up in her driveway. Charlotte couldn’t believe it.

“A limo?” she asked as she gingerly sat down on the soft leather seat next to an already tipsy Allyn. “You go all out.” “Oh yes!” Allyn giggled. “And by the way, va-va-va-VOOM. Charlotte Sanders, you are a smoke show. The red really was the best choice.” “A smoke show?” Charlotte laughed. “Jesus, you’re drunk already.” “It’s the only way to get through

these sorts of events,” Allyn smirked. “Now you need to catch up. Drink some damn champagne.”

********

It was the type of event where people’s entrances were actually announced. The ball was held inside the South Carolina Society Hall, a historic

building that had seen its share of cotillions, balls, and weddings over the last hundred years. As Allyn and Charlotte got to the entranceway, a stout old man bent over to ask who they were being escorted by. “Each other!” Allyn said. “I know, it’s scandalous.” The man looked at her with a gruff expression, one that reminded Charlotte

of Henry DeGraff. “Tradition says you need to be escorted in by a gentleman,” he scowled. “Well, being that my daddy just paid to have this place renovated, I think I can skip on tradition, just this once. So, please. Announce us. Allyn Legare Huger and Dr. Charlotte Sanders.” The man rolled his eyes, but two minutes later he announced their arrival,

causing the entire room to stare at them in astonishment. “I really do love shocking these pretentious assholes,” Allyn said, as she took Charlotte by the arm and led her toward the bar. “My husband would be so pissed if he saw me do that. Which makes it that much more fun.” Charlotte laughed, “Good Lord, you have changed.”

Allyn smiled, “That’s the best compliment I’ve received in a long time.” The two women giggled like school girls as they asked the bartender for a drink. “Let’s see,” Allyn thought out loud, tapping her manicured nails on the wooden bar. “Since we’re trying to be traditional, let’s have our first drink in

honor of Charleston. Two shots of GrandMa, please.” “Grandma?” Charlotte asked as the bartender began to pour. “What did I miss?” “GrandMA,” Allyn enunciated. “Grand Marnier. It’s a Charleston thing. Leave the mint juleps and bourbon punch to the Yankee tourists.” Well, Charlotte wasn’t one to be

rude, and four shots of GrandMa later, she was feeling pretty damn good. There was a warmness floating inside her, and between Allyn’s contagious laugh and the music, Charlotte had almost completely forgotten the drama of the last 48 hours. Almost. Until a familiar name was announced. “And I’m proud to announce,” the

stout man at the door suddenly bellowed. “Charleston’s very own has graced us with his presence. Declan Degraff! Mr. Degraff is… unaccompanied.” This last line was said with a hint of disdain. Charlotte’s heart dropped into her empty stomach. The booze hit her all at once and she felt like vomiting. But then she remembered the dress she was wearing probably cost more than her car,

so she refrained and attempted to gain some composure. What the hell was he doing here? “Allyn,” Charlotte said, grabbing her friend’s arm. “I need to get out of here.” Allyn looked at her, puzzled, “Why? Are you okay? We can slow down on the shots, I’m sorry.” Charlotte shook her head, “It’s not

that. Declan is here.” Allyn’s eyed widened, “He is? He didn’t RSVP. I never thought he’d come.” “Well,” Charlotte said. “I just heard his name announced. I can’t see him. It’s too long a story, but… I have to go.” Allyn shook her head, “No! Don’t let your douche ex make you leave this beautiful party! We’re having so much

fun! We can ignore him!” Charlotte smiled, “Oh, how I wish, Allyn. I saw him yesterday… Let’s just say, we’re in a really bad place. I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown just knowing he’s here. You don’t have to leave. Stay and enjoy this beautiful night. But I can’t- “ Before Charlotte could finish, she heard him say her name.

“Charlotte?”

********

He’d seen her as soon as he entered the ballroom. How could his eyes have not been drawn to the curvaceous woman in the red gown, laughing and looking more stunning than any woman that had ever graced these halls in all the

countless parties and balls it had hosted in the many decades it had been in existence? Seeing her there was like a dream, something he was sure he must be hallucinating. Until he saw her reaction when his name was announced. Then he’d known it was her, without a doubt. All the life drained from her expression almost immediately. It killed him.

He’d seen her start to scurry, to try to find a way out before he could find her. And if he was a better man, maybe he would have walked away. But again, it was fate, colliding them together again. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Winston texted him to come, to get him out of his funk from the loss of Charlotte (again) and the impending loss of his father.

Declan had rushed over to her quickly as she babbled to the friend she’d come with, a woman Declan recognized but couldn’t quite place. “Charlotte?” he said. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” “Yes, well,” she couldn’t look at him. “Had I known you would be present I wouldn’t have come. I was invited by Allyn, and it sounded like a good time.

But as usual, you show up. Every damn time, Declan. In the moment I’m beginning to forget…” Tears were falling down her face now. “I wish you’d just go away.” Allyn (Legare! That’s who she was. He remembered now) looked Declan up and down, “I don’t know what you did to her, but you need to get out of here, Declan. She was perfectly content

before you showed up. And I swear to God, if you hurt her…” Charlotte shook her head, “It’s not like that, Allyn. It’s a long story. It’s just really painful to see him. Really, I should go. I’m the guest and he was invited.” Charlotte rose, gathering her long skirt up so she could walk out quickly. Declan spoke, “Charlotte. Please.

Let me at least get you home. I promise, I will leave you alone after that. I’ll never go to my house again, I’ll sell it this week if you want me to and I will stay as far from you as I possibly can. But let me get you home and let me at least explain something. I don’t deserve it. I know that. But I need it, Charlotte. And not that I have any right to ask any more of you, but I’m afraid if you don’t let me

have at least one more conversation with you, it won’t be good for me. Because I can’t know I’ll never speak to you again without you giving me one last chance to explain everything. Charlotte, please.” Charlotte looked up at him, at his kind face, at the same eyes that had found her helpless on a bridge over ten years ago. When he’d found her then, he hadn’t known what his mother had done.

He was innocent of wrongdoing- he’d helped her only because he’d wanted to. Despite her anger at him, she couldn’t say no to those eyes. “Okay, Declan,” Charlotte agreed. “Just one more time.”

********

Declan had not expected her to say

yes. He’d never been so grateful for something. “Thank you,” he said, offering her his arm. “Do you want to get a bottle of water before we go? Something to eat?” “Charlotte, are you sure you want to leave?” Allyn said, her eyes narrowed at Declan. “I still think you should stay and Declan should go.” Charlotte shook her head, “I’m

sorry, Allyn. I just want to be home. But I promise to call tomorrow. And have this dress cleaned.” Allyn shook her head, “I’m not worried about the dress. But you must call me. Actually, text me as soon as you’re home so I know you’re okay.” She looked up at Declan. “I don’t care if you’re a DeGraff. If anything happens to her, I will kill you. Got it?”

Declan smiled, “Hey, I get it. You’re a Legare anyway. They’ve always held a little more weight around here than any DeGraff.” Charlotte hugged Allyn, thanking her for everything, “I really do feel like a princess.” “You’re better than any old stuffy princess,” Allyn said. “But seriously, you call me. If you need anything. I don’t

care what time it is.” Charlotte agreed, “I promise I will.” And with that, Charlotte took Declan’s arm and they headed out the same door they came through. It seemed like the entire ballroom was staring at them as they left. “Well, that was awkward,” Charlotte said as they finally exited out

onto Meeting Street. It was summer but the air was cooler than normal, with a breeze. “I’m really sorry,” Declan said. “If I’d known you were there…” “You would have come anyway,” Charlotte finished. “Let’s be honest.” Declan laughed, “Yep. Probably so.” “Where are you parked?” Charlotte

asked. “Or should we Uber?” “I guess you forgot,” Declan smiled. “I only live like two blocks down. Or my dad only lives two blocks down. I was visiting him today.” “Oh,” Charlotte said. “So I guess I’ll just get an Uber.” “No,” Declan said. “I’m glad to drive you back to Sullivan’s.” “Well, I don’t want you to have to

do that and then come back here. It’s too much,” Charlotte said. “And I don’t know how much longer I can be near you.” Declan stopped. “You hate me that much?” he asked. Charlotte looked up at him, “No. I could never hate you. But seeing you is painful, Declan. You represent a lot of hurt in my life. And a lot of beautiful at

the same time. Fuck.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “I don’t know what to do when I’m around you. I want to run from you, but then I want you to chase me. I want to push you away while also wanting you desperately to hold me. How is that possible?” He stepped toward her, “What can I do to make it right?” Charlotte shook her head, “Bring my

mother back to me. Make it so your mother never hit her. Or hell, at least make it so that your mother wasn’t the one that did it, Declan. At this point, I would even take that. But you can’t! You can’t undo what’s been done. And you can’t change the past or wish for a better one.” Declan nodded, “I can’t. I wish you knew how much I would give to be able

to, Charlotte. I would take all the pain on myself, if I could. I would invent a time machine and change everything that happened. Even if it meant I never would have met you, I would do it. Anything to make you happy, Charlotte. I would stop at nothing to make our reality different than this one.” Oh, how she loved him right then. Even when she shouldn’t have.

“Declan,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I just can’t…” “I know,” he said, somber. “I knew it as soon as I told you.”

********

They hadn’t spoken the first ten minutes of the drive back to Sullivan’s Island. Declan wasn’t sure why he

decided to tell her about Henry. “My father is dying,” he said. “It’s why I’m here.” Charlotte gasped, “Oh my God. Declan. I’m so sorry. What’s wrong?” “Cancer,” he said, looking straight ahead as they crossed the Ravenel Bridge. “Pancreatic. The worst kind to get, they always say. And they’re right. He’s disappearing before my eyes every

time I see him.” Charlotte reached out and placed her hand on his as it rested on top of the steering wheel. “I’m so incredibly sorry,” she said. “How long?” Declan shrugged, “He probably won’t make it through the summer. Or maybe even the month. I don’t know. It’s happening fast.”

“Is he in hospice?” she asked quietly. “He’s at home, we have nurses there around the clock,” Declan nodded. “Just keeping him as comfortable as we can while being in familiar surroundings.” Charlotte didn’t say anything. What was there to say? “I’m not telling you this to gain any sort of sympathy,” Declan added. “I just

thought you should know. I mean, it’s why I’m here, and, as usual, tragedy brings us together.” He sighed. “It’s like we’re cursed. We can’t be with one another unless it involves agony.” Charlotte sighed, “It seems that way. I feel so terrible for you, Declan. How does he feel about it?” “He’s pissed off,” Declan said. “I think he has a lot of regret in his life.

And someone like him, they assume they’re above death itself. So I think it’s a huge surprise to him that he’s having to deal with this whole death thing. It’s for the plebs after all.” Declan grinned. “As if DeGraffs are immortal. His father died of the same thing when he was about my age. I’ll probably go the same way unless one of my fellow billionaires finances a cure.”

“Don’t say that,” Charlotte said. “Don’t talk about dying. I can’t even bear to think of you…” She choked back a sob. “I can’t stand to think of anything like that happening to you, Declan.” He stared at her for a brief moment as they pulled off the bridge and onto Coleman Boulevard. “But Charlotte,” he said quietly. “I’m as good as dead to you anyway.

You never want to see me again. Or be with me. Or even think of me. Not after what I told you.” She looked at him, anger in her expression, “Stop it. You’re not being fair. Just because I can’t be with you doesn’t mean you’re dead to me. You’re more alive to me than anything else in my life has ever been. And even knowing it can never work out with us,

you will continue to live in the very place you obliterated, Declan. There’s no one else that will ever get that piece of my heart. So even if I never see you again, don’t think it means I won’t think of you every night when I go to sleep. Or that I haven’t thought of you every night since you left me.” She was sobbing now. “If only I could forget about you! It would make all of this so much easier

for me. But I can never forget you. You will haunt me til the day I die. The dream of what could have been, the taste of something so great that I can never be with anyone else, will stick with me forever.” They were almost to the island now, but Declan couldn’t wait. He pulled his Range Rover over on the side of Coleman, right before the Ben Sawyer

Bridge. “What are you doing?” Charlotte asked. “Declan…” “Charlotte,” he said, his voice stern. “That’s no way to live. And I know that because that’s exactly how I’ve been living the last ten years. Like there’s no point to anything because you’re not with me. And it’s clear you’ve been miserable too. And that’s completely my

fault. But I will not allow you to continue to live that kind of life. You’re too perfect, too beautiful, to live that kind of existence. I’m right here, baby. And I’m telling you, we can get past this. My mother’s terrible mistakes are her own. She has hurt so many people and she will never have to pay for them. It’s a fact. I can’t bring you the justice you want and the justice you deserve. But

punishing yourself and punishing me doesn’t change anything. It only sabotages your chance at happiness. And you say you can’t have any happiness without me. And I’m telling you that I’m yours for the taking. If you’ll have me. You own me, mind, body, soul… Every cell of my being belongs to you, and you alone. It always has and it always will. And if there is anything I can promise

you, it’s that I will make it my greatest purpose in life to make it all up to you. The last ten years, the time before that, every ounce of pain in your life that was caused by my family and by me, I will work myself to the bone to make up for. But it can’t happen unless you let me back in, Charlotte. And I’m wide open. I will free fall to the depths of hell for you and burn. But I would rather live for

you. I would rather live for each other.” His eyes never left hers. She was speechless. “I couldn’t let you go without you knowing that,” he said. “I’m telling you that I will do anything to make this work. I will lift all the heavy boulders that we have on top of us. Just let me show you. Please. Not just for me. For you too.” He held his breath. She had him in

the palm of her hand, as always. But what she said now would decide everything.

Chapter Seventeen “Come home with me,” she said, her voice cracking. “Stay with me tonight.” It was all he needed to hear. He’d never driven across the bridge

so fast. They were back at her house within ten minutes. As soon as he opened the door for her, she was in his arms, her mouth against his. He lifted her up, something that wasn’t easy with the layers of crinoline under her massive gown. What he’d once admired on her body, he now desperately wanted to get off of her. He’d carried her up the steps to her

front door, his hands under her ass, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was holding onto him for dear life. Like she never wanted to let go. Declan practically kicked open her door. Neither of them could recall how they ended up in the bedroom, but clearly that was where this was heading, where it always headed when it came to

them. Neither of them felt like thinking about whether it was right. It took Charlotte forever to get out of her dress. Declan had stripped down to nothing while she figured it out. “Do you need my help?” he asked. “No, because you’ll just rip it off me,” she laughed. “And this isn’t mine to rip.” “You look beautiful tonight,” he

said. “Everyone was looking at you.” “Yeah, probably wondering what the hell I was doing there,” she said. She was in her bra and panties now, both red like her dress. Declan grabbed his chest. “You’re going to kill me,” he said. “You’re so fucking sexy. Come here.” She fell into his arms, just as she’d done so many times before in another life. He was the same but different,

she’d noticed that the other night. His body was harder, bigger. Stronger. The Declan she’d first loved had been a young kid, practically. This Declan of the future was a man. He ran his hands up her back, unsnapping her bra with one hand. His other hand slid down her stomach to her panties. He pulled them off her with one forceful tug. Now she was naked; just as

he preferred. She touched his face as he entered her, his thrusts slow at first. “I love you,” she said. “No matter what.” “I love you too,” he said, quickening his pace. “You’re the only person I know how to love, Charlotte.” She arched her back as he started to plunge deeper inside of her. She could

feel herself getting close to the brink of an orgasm and he could feel it too. “You’re going to come for me,” he said. “Say it.” “Declan, I can only come for you,” Charlotte cried out. “And yes! I’m coming!” He kissed her then, long and hard as she yelled her pleasure into his mouth. She could feel how wet it had made her.

Declan was sliding in and out of her now, easily. “You feel so damn good,” he whispered. “How could you ever deny yourself this? What we have?” He was pounding her now, and she could barely take it. It was heaven and hell all at once. “I can’t,” she cried out. “I’m so tired of being away from you, Declan. I

can’t do it anymore. I can’t be happy without you.” “Me either,” he said. “I’m glad you can admit it too.” They said nothing for a while. There wasn’t anything they could say that their bodies couldn’t express better than words ever could.

********

An hour later when they were both spent and on the verge of falling asleep, Declan spoke. “Why did you come here this time?” he asked as he ran his fingers up and down her arm. She was laying in the crook of him, her eyes closed. “I had a breakdown of sorts,” she confessed.

She told him the story of Melanie Hopp. Somehow she was able to get through it without crying. He held her tight against him, his heart broken that it wasn’t a story with a happier ending. “So it brought up so much from my past that I had pushed down,” Charlotte explained. “I couldn’t do my job the way I need to do it. It wasn’t right. And I felt

like such a failure. Just like I did when my mother died.” Declan shook his head, “Why would you be a failure when it came to your mother? It’s not your fault, Charlotte. We know whose fault it is.” Charlotte sighed, “I often go over in my head how if I had only just agreed to go with her, things would have been different. All she needed was 30

seconds. If she’d left 30 seconds later, she would have missed that light. Your mother would have still sped through it, but my mother wouldn’t have been there to take the hit.” Declan turned her face towards his, “That’s not you being a failure, Charlotte. That’s called being incredibly, colossally, unlucky. And what if you had gone and she’d still been

hit? You’d be gone too.” Declan shook his head. “The thought of that makes me sick. I’m so sorry.” Charlotte touched his face. He was still so handsome, even more handsome than he’d been. “You didn’t do it,” she said. “You are not your mother. And you were right about what you said. Punishing you changes nothing.”

“I still fucked up,” he said. “I should have told you as soon as I knew. I was just so scared. My mother… She needed me. When she told me she’d kill herself if I told anyone…” “Baby, I know,” Charlotte kissed his mouth softly. “It’s terrible that she put you in that position.” “It is,” he agreed. “But at the same time, it clearly ate at her, what she’d

done. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was really sick, yes. She needed help and none of us could see it. Or maybe we could see it, but we dismissed it as rich lady problems. I don’t want to defend her. What she did is indefensible. I’m sorry.” “She’s your momma,” Charlotte said. “If you don’t defend her, who

will?” Declan smiled, “I guess. But it’s you. She hurt the person I love more than anything.” “I wish we could back in time and stop everything from happening,” Charlotte said. “But then I might not have ever met you at all.” “But you’d have your mother,” he said. “And I’d have mine. And I like to

think, when two people are tied to one another like we seem to be, our paths would have crossed somehow. Even in a different life.”

Chapter Eighteen They woke up late the next morning. The tide was in and the Atlantic was lapping at the shore a mere twenty feet from Charlotte’s back deck. She sat in an Adirondack chair, naked with a blanket

wrapped around her, sipping instant coffee. She’d thought about Declan all night. Watching him sleep next to her, it brought her such comfort. And despite the revelations about his mother’s part in her own mother’s death, she couldn’t let him go. She didn’t know how any of this could work, but being with him again was like coming home. Except home

wasn’t a place, like she always assumed it was. Charleston wasn’t home. Declan DeGraff was.

********

She’d awakened Declan by mounting him. He was hard under the sheets and she couldn’t help it. She needed him inside of her.

“Fuck,” he said, his eyes fluttering open. He watched her riding him, slowly. Her hips bucked, her large breasts bouncing, the nipples rigid. “Make me come,” she begged. “Please.” “Not a problem,” he said, placing his hands on her waist. “Ladies first.” Afterwards they’d laid there quietly, panting from the exertion.

“This is going to sound weird,” he said. “But do you mind coming with me to see my dad today? He’s probably wondering where I am. I don’t think he even realizes I went to the ball last night; he was asleep when I left.” Charlotte sat up, “I don’t know. You don’t think it would be weird?” “He knows you’re here,” Declan said. “So it wouldn’t be that weird. Just

a little weird.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Well as long as it’s only a little weird.” “You don’t have to,” Declan said. “I know it’s asking too much. But it’s getting harder and harder for me to see him.” Declan’s voice choked up for a moment. “I have a feeling there’s not much time left. I keep waiting for my phone to ring and it be one of his nurses

telling me he’s gone.” Charlotte took Declan’s hand and pulled it towards her chest, “My baby. I’m so sorry. That’s so terrible. Of course I’ll go see him with you.” “Thanks,” he smiled. “It will be different than your last run-in with him. Cancer has humbled his ass.” Charlotte laughed, “It’s fitting that it would take a terminal illness to humble

Henry DeGraff. But God, I hate it for you, Declan. And for him. It’s not right.” “No,” Declan said. “It isn’t right. But it’s life.”

********

Charlotte couldn’t help but be a little nervous as they entered the DeGraff home. Everything looked almost

exactly as it had ten years ago when she’d first come for dinner- though it didn’t seem quite as bright now. It looked a little duller and more somber. The absence of Anna DeGraff was apparent. The mansion hadn’t known the touch of a woman in a long time. Henry was asleep in his bed in the living room and although Charlotte was used to seeing patients and had done

some of her residency at an oncology ward, it was still unsettling to see the once larger than life Henry DeGraff reduced to what looked like almost a skeleton of a man. “Hello, Mr. DeGraff,” a tiny woman whispered to them across the room. She was replacing IV fluid. “He just fell asleep. He ate a tiny bit though. I told him you’d be here in a moment. He

asked for you as always.” Declan smiled, “Thanks, Marie. And please, Mr. DeGraff is my father. Just call me Declan. This is Charlotte.” Charlotte stepped forward and awkwardly shook Marie’s hand, “Hello, nice to meet you.” “Charlotte,” Marie said. “Mr. DeGraff actually mentioned you this morning.”

“He did?” Charlotte looked over at Declan. “I haven’t seen him in years and it was only one time.” “He had just received his morphine,” Marie said. “Said you were his son’s great love and he hoped you’d find one another again.” Declan laughed, “Really? That’s funny.” “Is it?” Marie asked sternly. “Not

maybe what a woman would want to hear you refer to it as.” Charlotte gave Declan the side-eye, “Yeah. What’s so funny about that?” Declan threw up his hands, “No, no. It’s not funny. It’s perfect. It’s just I mentioned you one-time yesterday and we barely spoke about you. It’s just funny in the way that drugs make you always tell the truth, is what I meant. It’s

funny because it’s true. You are my great love.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Nice save, Mr. DeGraff.” Marie chuckled, “I like Charlotte. She keeps you on your toes.” “That she does,” Declan said, wrapping his warm around her shoulders. “He’ll probably sleep a couple

hours,” Marie said. “If there’s anything you need to get done today, this might be a good time to do it.” Declan sighed, “Well, I was hoping we’d catch him before he had his afternoon nap, but I think I have an idea of something that can distract us. Charlotte, I’ll be right back. I need to make a quick phone call.” “Okay,” she said as Declan walked

out into the foyer, his iPhone already to his ear. Charlotte walked around the living room quietly as Marie did her nurse duties. She wasn’t sure what to say. Charlotte wasn’t great at small talk. “You make him happy,” Marie said. Charlotte turned to her, a quizzical expression on her face. “Declan. Mr. DeGraff’s son. When

he first came here, he was very down. No light in his eyes. I thought it was because of his father,” Marie said, folding a sheet. “I think maybe it was because you weren’t here. You’ve tamed him.” Charlotte sat down in the chair across from Henry’s bed. “We were together a long time ago,” Charlotte said. “And we kind of met up

again by coincidence.” “You believe in coincidence?” Marie asked. “Of course,” Charlotte said. “Don’t you?” “Oh no,” Marie grinned. “My momma used to say that coincidence is just how God stays anonymous.” Charlotte laughed, “I like that. Maybe so. Maybe so.”

Declan had walked back into the room, “You ready? Marie, we’re going to be back in about two hours. If he wakes up before that, just text me, okay?” “Certainly,” Marie said. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.” “Really nice to meet you too, Marie.”

********

Declan was driving with the windows down, the smell of the lowcountry filling their nostrils. “Where are we headed?” Charlotte asked, taking his hand in hers. “Angel Oak,” he replied. “I’m meeting someone there. Someone who wants to talk to you, actually.”

Charlotte looked at him, “Who on earth knows me that would be on Johns Island?” Declan grinned, “It’s a surprise. You might not remember her. But she remembers you. I only cried on her shoulder drunkenly over you about a dozen times.” Charlotte went through the very small rolodex of people it could be in

her mind but came up with nothing. “Alright,” she said. “I have no guesses. Can you at least tell me what Angel Oak is?” “You don’t know what Angel Oak is?” Declan asked, incredulous. “I’m genuinely surprised. It’s one of my favorite things about this place.” “Is it a tree?” Charlotte said. “Not just any tree,” Declan replied.

“It’s the oldest tree east of the Mississippi. Some say it’s 1500 years old. Some say its only 700 years old. Everyone agrees though- it’s old as hell, and there’s a magic about it. You’re going to fall in love. Hard.” Charlotte couldn’t imagine what could be so incredible about a tree. Sure, Charleston had some beautiful ones. Live oaks with the hanging Spanish

moss; it was all very romantic and all. But if you’d seen one live oak, you’d seen them all. How wrong she was.

********

Angel Oak was something out of a fairy tale. It’s long, thick branches were the circumference of most trees’ trunks.

They stretched out beyond its own massive trunk, reaching out for something that Charlotte would never be able to imagine. “This is like something out of Tolkien’s imagination,” Charlotte said as she shut the door to Declan’s car, staring up at the imposing oak. “You’re right. I love her.” “I knew you would,” Declan said as

he walked around the rear of the car to meet her, taking her by the hand. “She’s very special. You know, the Gullah say the spirits of the Kiawah guard her at night.” “The Kiawah?” Charlotte asked as they started walking towards the tree. “Yep. Native American tribe that used to live on the island. Before my people came and ruined things for

everybody,” Declan winked at her. “How do you know this?” Charlotte said. “And what is Gullah?” “Damn. You really didn’t live in Charleston long enough if you don’t know about the Gullah,” he said. “Geechee is how we know them around here. They are the descendants of African slaves. They have a unique culture and way of life. They’re a small

community now, they used to live up and down the Carolinas, but now they live primarily here in the lowcountry. And you’ve seen them, selling their sweet grass baskets up and down Meeting Street near my house.” “Oh!” Charlotte said. “Yes! I love those baskets.” “And you’ve also met a Gullah woman. And that’s who we’re here to

see today. She’s waiting for us over at the picnic tables.” Charlotte was lost. Who could this be? As they approached a table, a thick waisted black woman stood up to greet them, her smile broad and warm, her arms outstretched. “Declan!” she said. “Antonia!” Declan exclaimed

leaning down to hug her. Oh, yes! Now Charlotte recalled her. Antonia had been the DeGraff’s housekeeper and chef when Charlotte visited. She was older now and a little bit heavier, but Charlotte recognized her immediately. “Hello, Antonia,” Charlotte said. “Oh, sweet Charlotte,” Antonia leaned forward to embrace her. “I’m so

happy to see you. When Declan told me how you’d find one another again, it made my heart so happy for you both. He’s told me so many things about you over the years. His heart has always been broken over you.” Declan sighed, “Antonia. You’re making me sound a little pathetic.” Charlotte laughed, “I like it. Tell me more.” She threw her elbow into his

side. “I can’t help but get a little pleasure out of knowing you were pining away for me.” “Oh he was!” Antonia said. “But now fate has thrown you together yet again. There are no coincidences when it comes to love.” “Coincidences are just God being anonymous,” Charlotte said out loud and both Antonia and Declan looked at her in

shock. “Oh my. That’s some wise words there, Charlotte,” Antonia said. “And it’s true too. I think you might have been Geechee in another life. Just like Declan.” Declan laughed, “You’ve been telling me that since I was a kid.” “Well, it’s true,” Antonia said. “Not that Geechee believe in reincarnation.

But sometimes I think it’s possible. And what I know, is that you have been with one another in many lifetimes. And now this one.” Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say to that. She had no idea what would happen with her and Declan. But Antonia seemed so sure. “Well, anyway,” Declan said, clearly embarrassed. “I came here to

make sure arrangements were made and everything should be okay.” Antonia nodded, “Yes. I’ve talked to who needed to be talked to. We will do it like with your mother. All is okay.” “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked. Declan looked over at Angel Oak and didn’t say anything for a moment. “My mother,” Declan said. “Her ashes are here. We scattered them at

night after the park closed. It was her request and now it’s my father’s request that he join her here. This is where he asked her to marry him.” Charlotte teared up thinking of it. “I can think of no better place,” Antonia said. “To begin a love and to sleep the eternal sleep with a love than right here at Angel Oak. She will guard their souls. No haints touch these

grounds.” “Haints?” Charlotte asked. “Evil spirits,” Declan explained. “Oh,” Charlotte said. Coincidence she could possibly deny. But evil spirits? She was a doctor. Pragmatic and mostly unbelieving in the things she couldn’t see. But both of them seemed so sure of it, so she said nothing. “Charlotte,” Antonia continued. “I

wanted to tell you something. And I hope it doesn’t upset you and I hope it’s not out of line. May I tell you?” Charlotte looked up at Declan, “Sure. Though I’m a little nervous.” “I was a longtime confidant to Miss Anna,” Antonia said. “I know what she done to you. I didn’t know it was you until a few years ago when Declan told me one night. But Miss Anna had told me

about a terrible thing she did. And how it hurt her heart every day to know she made the wrong decision. Your mother’s death laid heavy on her soul.” Charlotte’s tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t sure what to make of this. “I tell her to tell someone. To tell the family, to take it upon herself to give them justice, even if it meant they hated her. Even if it meant she’d go to jail or

be ostracized. But you see, she wasn’t afraid of none of that.” Antonia looked at Charlotte now. “She was afraid to leave Declan. She didn’t want to leave him for jail, or to leave him to be hurt by people’s cruel words. She didn’t want to bring him shame or make him pay for her mistake. So she didn’t tell. And instead, the guilt of it, ate her up. Miss Anna didn’t need to go to prison to pay for

what she did. It ate her alive. She would beg me to help her die. Said she felt like she was being skinned alive from the inside. She wanted to trade places with your momma more than anything. She started to drink so much, take so many pills. Wanted to numb it all away, but she couldn’t.” Antonia was almost in tears now. “I don’t know why she never told me you were the daughter. I was

with her the last days of her life but she never told me. And I don’t know why I am telling you this now. Maybe so it would help you to know that she suffered. Not as much as you. Not as much as your momma, God rest her soul. But Miss Anna died very broken. Very sick from what she did. Everything we do in this life catches up. She was so sorry for it. Sorrier than any of us could

fathom.” Charlotte was sobbing now. None of it made her feel better. She always assumed it would, to know the person who killed her mother had led a terrible life and would one day hopefully die a terrible death. But now that she knew, she wished she didn’t. Suffering begets suffering and none of it is worthwhile. Charlotte couldn’t hear anything else.

“I can’t…” Charlotte said. “I can’t handle this. I don’t want anyone to suffer.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it,” Antonia said. “Oh, Charlotte I thought it would help!” “It’s fine, Antonia,” Declan said. “We should go. I’ll take Charlotte home.” They all stood, Antonia looking so

panicked. “I am so sorry,” she kept saying. “I didn’t mean to make you so sad.” “It’s okay,” Charlotte said. “I’m just… It’s been a week of a lot of revelations. I need to go home.” Declan walked her quickly to his car. As they pulled out of the muddy parking lot of Angel Oak Park, neither of them spoke. Not until they were off

Johns Island. “I don’t know what to say,” Declan said. “I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I just wanted you to see the tree and talk about my dad being scattered there when he eventually goes, and just have a moment away from things. But it made it worse and all I want is to make your life better.” Charlotte stared out the window as

the trees blurred by, “I’m not upset with her. Or you. I’m upset because of how much time has been wasted.” “What do you mean?” Declan asked. Charlotte turned to him, “We wasted ten years. Ten years we could have been together. All because of this fucked up tragedy involving our mothers. And you know what? It’s not all your fault. It’s

mine too. I pushed everyone away, I never made it easy for you to come back, even if you’d wanted to. And you were scared to hurt me more. I know that now. So you made yourself miserable. Just like your mother made herself miserable. All over fear. Fuck fear.” Declan pulled over to the side of the road, his hands shaking. “So what does that mean?” he

asked. “It means fuck being afraid. I’m tired of it. I love you, Declan. Love me back and let’s get over this. Maybe it won’t be easy. There will be days it will be hard. There will be days where I don’t know if I can get out of bed, or days where I will resent your mother. But I will never resent you, Declan. And I hope you can do the same. Just love

me. At the end of the day, there’s nothing else. We end up as ashes under a tree. Specks on the earth that’s just a speck in the universe. And I need to be that speck next to you, baby. I can’t go on anymore without that. I don’t want to end up like your mother- devastated and regretting all the things I should have done right. Let’s start making it right.” Declan wasn’t one to cry. But after

that speech, it was almost impossible not to. “Charlotte,” he said. “I’m yours forever. I always was.” “I know that,” she smiled through her tears. “Now let’s start living in that forever.”

Chapter Nineteen Henry DeGraff passed away five days later. Declan and Charlotte were both by his side. He’d been asleep for almost two days by then, doped up on narcotics,

waiting for his body to finally give up. In the days before that he’d made his peace with Declan. And with Charlotte. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you in,” Henry had told her. “I hid behind a lot of things. I thought the wrong kind of things were important. It’s a damn shame you don’t know that until it’s over.” “It’s okay,” Charlotte said. “I hold no hard feelings. I never did. Honestly, I

was in awe of you. What a presence you are, Henry.” “And what a beautiful girl you are. You could do so much better than Declan,” he said and both Charlotte and Declan laughed. “She hasn’t figured that out yet, Dad,” Declan said. “I hope she never does.”

********

They scattered his ashes at midnight a few days later. Declan didn’t cry but Charlotte did. Not just for Henry. But for her mother. For Anna. For Melanie Hopp. The losses made it hard to want to keep living, to keep loving. But that was the cost, Charlotte supposed. The pain of

losing people was the price we paid for loving them at all. As she watched Declan scatter his father’s ashes under a full moon, she couldn’t help but be grateful that if the pain was inevitable, she would be thankful it was Declan she got to feel it for.

********

They made love the next morning, right as the sun was peeking through the blinds of the carriage house. They were both craving the past, so they’d slept there that night. Waking up with him in her old bed gave her such contentment. His thrusting was slow at first and she’d kissed his face as he went in and out of her. His cheeks, his mouth, his

eyelids. She arched her back to come for him, to let him know what he was doing for her body. “Yes,” she whispered. “I love you. You feel so good.” He said nothing, just kissed her mouth long and hard as he released himself inside of her. She cried out afterwards and he withdrew and replaced his cock with his hand, rubbing

her clit until she had finished again. “I love you,” he said. “Thank you.” “For what?” she asked. She was laying on his chest now, listening to his heartbeat slow from rapid to normal. “For giving me another chance,” he said. “For being here through what happened to my dad. For everything. For existing in the first place.” She grinned, “That’s a lot.”

“I could never say all the things I’m thankful for when it comes to you,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth. “You’re my moon. Remember?” “I do,” she said. “Would you like to be something else too?” he asked. “Maybe,” she replied. “What’s that?”

“My wife,” he grinned. “I used to always tell myself when I asked you, it would be here.” Her heart jumped in her chest. She hadn’t expected it, but now that he’d said it, it was all she wanted in the world. “Yes,” she said, tears falling down her face. “I want that more than anything.”

“I know I didn’t get down on one knee,” he said. “And I don’t have a ring. But we’re billionaires. I’ll fly you to Lorraine Schwartz herself and you pick out the biggest diamond in the world, and it’s yours. Literally, Charlotte. The biggest one any woman has ever received from her future husband.” “We’re billionaires?” Charlotte laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“What’s mine is yours,” he grinned. “Isn’t that how it works?” “I have no idea,” she laughed. “But I like the sound of it. And I’m not talking about the money. I just want your soul, Declan DeGraff. That’s all.” “Well, that’s been yours since the beginning of time,” he said, kissing her softly on the lips. “And it’s yours til the end of it.”

Epilogue A few months later… Christmas

“I can’t wait until they’re here!” Charlotte had flown Vanessa and her father down for their engagement party in Charleston. She hadn’t planned on having one- she preferred to elope

somewhere tropical if she was being honest- but Allyn Legare had insisted. “It’ll be the event of the holiday season!” Allyn had crooned into the phone. “I mean a DeGraff wedding? Are you kidding? You’ll be all over the society section. It’s like… Kate Middleton marrying the damn Prince. Except Declan is much better looking. But it’s the whole Cinderella, commoner

thing…” “Jesus, Allyn,” Charlotte said. “Did you seriously use the word ‘commoner’ to describe me?” “I mean it in a good way!” Allyn replied. “It’s a fairy tale! You’re proof that love can prevail over all things.” “Even Charleston social status,” Charlotte said sarcastically. “Oh, Allyn. You’re too much.”

“You know you love me and that I love you,” Allyn said. “It’s why you made me a bridesmaid.” Charlotte laughed, “Who knew that Allyn Legare would ever be one of my bridesmaids? Life is so weird.” “It is,” Allyn agreed. “And I’m so grateful for that.”

********

Charlotte was nervous about her family coming to Charleston. Not so much about Vanessa, who she knew could handle it, but her father. He had sworn to her that he would never step foot into the state of South Carolina ever again. Especially not Charleston. But a couple of months ago, Charlotte and Declan had flown up to

Nashville so Declan could officially ask her father’s permission to marry his daughter. Declan had insisted on it, even though Charlotte thought it was a silly tradition. “I have a feeling your father is the type that would appreciate it,” Declan had said. “And I was raised to do it. Women look forward to the ring. But men look forward to things too, you

know. And he’s the only living grandparent of our future children. I want to show how much respect I have for him.” So Declan had asked her father on a fishing trip they’d taken together on the Cumberland River. Her father had been a little surprised, he didn’t know much about Declan, but he’d been quick to say yes. On one condition.

“Make her laugh a lot,” he’d say. “Even when life is hard. It’s what I miss the most about my wife. She had a really good laugh.” Declan nodded, “The first thing I loved about your daughter was her laugh. It’s my favorite sound in the world.” Mr. Sanders had looked at Declan then, his eyes welling up for a moment,

“Yep. It’s a good one. Sounds so much like her mother’s sometimes that my heart almost stops. It’s like having a piece of her back again.” So when Charlotte invited Vanessa to the engagement party on her last day in Nashville, and as an afterthought mentioned the festivities to her father, she was pleasantly shocked when he immediately announced his plans to

attend. “Dad, we’d love to have you there. I’m sorry I didn’t come right out and invite you, I just know how you feel about Charleston and I didn’t want to put you in the awkward position of declining.” Charlotte explained. “It’s time,” he’d said. That was all. Charlotte didn’t know what to think.

Now she was anxious. She wanted her sister and father to have a great time, especially since she and Declan had decided to make Charleston their permanent home. If they could get through this trip there was hoped they’d be back. Something Charlotte desperately wanted.

********

The party had been held in a ballroom at the new Gaillard Center downtown. Charlotte didn’t know most of the people in the room, but they certainly knew her. She’d had a fine time, but she’d been worried the whole thing would overwhelm her father, who was a simple man with simple tastes. He didn’t like large crowds or attention. He

preferred to go fishing by himself and staying in with his free time. But every time she’d looked over at him he’d looked happy. The stress and anxiety had caused her to be a little nauseated. The nausea had hit her randomly for the last couple of weeks but the night of the party it was especially overwhelming. She’d mentioned it to Vanessa after dinner as

they sipped champagne next to an ice sculpture that Allyn had commissioned for the party. (Only Allyn Legare would do something like commission an ice sculpture for an engagement party.) “You say this has been happening for a couple weeks?” Vanessa said, looking at her sister. “Charlotte. You’re a damn OB GYN. I would think you’d know the early signs of pregnancy.”

Charlotte shook her head, “No way. Impossible…” But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She had been terrible about taking her pill at the same time every day, something she really should have known better about in her line of work. “We need to get a test!” Charlotte said. “Let’s run to CVS.”

“In the middle of the party?” Vanessa said. “Don’t you think it can wait?” “No. And we’ll only been gone like 20 minutes. I have to know now. I should probably stop drinking this champagne while I’m thinking about it,” Charlotte put down the glass next to the ice sculpture. “Let’s go.”

********

The little pink plus side had come up immediately. “Holy shit,” Vanessa said, staring down at the test in Charlotte’s manicured hands. “What is Declan going to think?” Charlotte smiled. She knew what he’d think. The same thing she thought. They were going to have a baby.

Someone that was part her and part him. Part Charlotte’s mother. And Declan’s parents. The new baby would have no shortage of guardian angels. “I have to go find him,” Charlotte said. They’d taken the test in the restroom on the other side of the building for privacy. “Now?” Vanessa said. “Sis, you’re crazy.”

“I know it,” Charlotte called over her shoulder as she walked out of the restroom. “This is what love does to a person, apparently.”

********

Declan was leaning against a column, laughing at a joke Winston Ravenel was telling him. Charlotte

stared at him across the room, her heart racing. She wanted to capture this memory, the moment before she would tell Declan he was going to be a father. God, he was so handsome. And so happy. They both were. Ever since he’d asked her to marry him, life had been complete bliss. It almost scared her how fantastic things were. And now, they were about to get

even better. She sashayed over to him slowly. His eyes met hers when she’d almost reached him, and he offered her his hand, pulling her into him. “Hey, baby,” he said, kissing her hard on the mouth. “You sure do look beautiful tonight. You’re glowing.” “Well, there’s a reason for that,” she said, smirking. “Sorry, Winston, can you

give my fiancé and me a moment alone?” “Sure,” Winston said, taking the last swallow of his bourbon. “I was thinking of talking to your sister. She sure is a pretty girl.” “Oh, you stay far away from her, Winston Ravenel!” Charlotte poked him in the chest. “She’s pure and perfect. Do not corrupt her.” “Wouldn’t think of it,” Winston

winked at her. “I’ll leave you two be.” And off he went. Declan looked down at Charlotte, “You get some good news? You look like you’re about to burst out of your skin.” “I am,” Charlotte whispered, pressing herself against his chest. “Declan, I love you so much.” He tipped her chin up with his hand,

looking into her eyes, “I love you more. What’s going on?” “I just found out,” she said. “Declan, I’m pregnant.” His eyes widened and he stepped back for a moment. “You just found out?” he asked. “How?” Charlotte smiled, “My sister reminded me that nausea can sometimes

mean you’re knocked up. Silly me, I didn’t even consider it. Some doctor I am. We ran to the drugstore and grabbed a test. I just took it. I’m going to have a baby. And by the way, it’s yours.” Declan laughed and pulled her into him, tears in his eyes, “We made a baby. Charlotte… How is it possible for a man to have this many dreams come true?” “I don’t know,” Charlotte said,

wrapping her arms around him. “But let’s find out together. If it’s a boy, we will name him Henry.” “And if it’s a girl, we’ll name her after your momma,” Declan said. Charlotte kissed him then, a kiss full of longing, hope, and the belief that her mother was a part of this happiness. She’d never felt her presence as much as she felt it in that moment.

It was true, what her father told her once, when she was especially upset about her mother dying. It had been right after she’d come back from Charleston. She’d missed her mother terribly, so badly wishing she had her there to help her heal from the broken heart of Declan leaving her. “One day,” her father had said to her. “She’ll come back to you. In a way

you won’t even expect. For me, she’s here through you and your sister. And one day, you will have your own children. And you’ll realize that the people we lose come back through the love we make. They are in a piece of everything you do. And your children are God’s way of bringing them back. I promise, Charlotte. I can’t promise you much, but I can promise that.”

Charlotte held onto Declan tight, tears falling down her cheeks. Her father was right. Her mother was there. She’d come back through her love for Declan, and now through the child they’d made together. Life moves forward through the people we are brave enough to love again, Charlotte thought. If there was anything to learn, that

would always be the most important lesson of all.

THE END Thank you so much for reading REVEL. I will be writing other second chance romances, all full-length with guaranteed HEAs. Look for the next one this summer!

Please enjoy an excerpt of my newest book THE MENTOR on the following pages. And for news on book releases and giveaways, please subscribe to my newsletter. No spam, just fun. Unsubscribe at any time.

One My father died on a Tuesday. The day I found out is a recollection I wish I could repress, but it sits on the very front of my memory, always. There’s a distinct split in the timeline of my life. Before I knew, and after I knew. So before I knew, I was in class at

the University of Virginia. Chaucer. It was my second semester studying him and it was proving to be just as arduous as the first semester had been. I sat in the back of the room, looking down, pretending to be furiously writing notes. But I wasn’t writing notes, I was writing plans. Adding up figures, writing down ideas and dreams. I was ready to graduate, to get out of

Charlottesville. I’d turned twenty-one in November and as soon as I had a degree I would also have my trust; the one my mother had set up for me before she passed away from brain cancer when I was thirteen years old. With that money I would travel the world. I would see things, meet people, have an adventure. My life had been a strange sort of childhood prison up until

that point. I had been in boarding school since my mother died, and before that I had been kept in a mansion away from the rest of the world, only seeing my nannies and tutors most days. My mother was an anxious person, constantly afraid of bad things happening to me. I never understood why and it was never explained, not even in the end. I supposed that the fear she’d held

had been her intuition speaking to her. But it wasn’t me she needed to worry about. It ended up being Mom who had the black cloud of fate over her head. She’d been diagnosed a mere six months before her death. And now my father was gone. Although I didn’t know it yet. I’d never known him, at least not how most daughters know their fathers.

He was practically mythical. I saw him once every few years and received gifts on my birthdays and Christmases without fail. But he was more like a distant uncle than a father. There wasn’t a single photo of us together, just he and I. And now there never would be. I could hear my iPhone buzzing in my bag which rested against my leg. I glanced up at my professor to make sure

he couldn’t hear it, which, fortunately, over the sound of his droning was impossible. I rarely got texts during class, most of the few friends I had were in classes of their own, so I was curious who it might be. I feigned needing a restroom break and slipped out of class with my phone in the back pocket of my Levi’s. As soon

as I was outside the classroom and down the hallway, I pulled it out and stared at the screen. It was a text from my Aunt Beth, my mother’s sister. She texted me at least once a week to check up on me but it was always on the weekends, usually Sundays.

Call me ASAP.

I dialed her number, wondering what could be wrong. Aunt Beth didn’t have kids and was going through a messy divorce at the moment. I couldn’t imagine… “Cami,” she answered on the first ring. “Cami, where are you right now?” “In class,” I said. “Where else

would I be?” “I didn’t know if you were in your dorm,” she said, her voice flat. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just say it. Your father has passed away.” The news smacked me hard. Despite our lack of a relationship, it was one of those things I always knew was there. I had figured maybe once I was older I would have time to get to know

him. But even after losing my mother, I still assumed too much. “How?” I managed to ask. “Not sure,” Aunt Beth said. “I only know that he died, I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that. They’ve been trying to get in contact with you, but I requested you hear it from me first and not some strange asshole attorney.” “Who are they?” I asked. I leaned

against the wall and slowly slid down it until I was sitting, my knees pulled to my chest. No tears were coming. I just felt numb. “His firm,” she said. “They’re in charge of his estate. You’re his only remaining living family member.” “Oh,” I said. “So what does that mean?” “It means you might want to take

some time off,” she said. “And if you need me, I can come for the funeral, help you with arrangements. I can’t stay gone too long, but I can do whatever I can. There’s going to be estate stuff, probate. It’s going to be overwhelming.” I shook my head. I wouldn’t make her do that. I was old enough to handle this. “No,” I said. “I can handle it.

Where is he?” “Tahoe,” she said. “He died at his home in Tahoe.” “He has so many homes, I lose track,” I said. “I haven’t been to the Tahoe one before.” “Well, I hate that your first visit has to be like this,” Aunt Beth said. I could hear her exhaling. She was smoking a cigarette. Normally I would lambast her

for it, but I didn’t have it in me at the moment. “He died at his house?” I asked. “Heart attack?” “Maybe,” she said. “I wish I knew more, but I don’t, baby. But I have a number for you to call. You have a pen?” “No, I’m outside my classroom, my pen and paper are inside,” I replied. “Just text it to me.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Cami. This isn’t right.” “It’s okay,” I said, now ready for the conversation to be over. “I’ll be fine.” I sat for a long while, just staring. There was a chip in the floor a few feet in front of where I sat. I’d probably walked over it a thousand times or more during my four years at UVA, but I’d never before noticed it. How could it

have happened, I wondered? I just stared at it a long while, thinking about how it was probably here before I ever arrived from Choate and how it would be here long after and never miss me for a moment. That it would go on being walked over by Wahoos in perpetuity, no matter how many mothers and fathers died. The world was still spinning, professors were still droning on,

students were still fighting to stay awake. Nothing had changed. Yet everything was different. Because after I knew, nothing would ever be the same.

Two I’d slipped back into class, my professor staring me down, clearly unhappy about how long I’d been gone. He’s going to feel like such an asshole when I tell him why, I thought. Twenty minutes later when class was finished, I explained what had

happened. And I was right, his haughtiness immediately turned to sympathy. “You’ll need to talk to the dean. Make sure they get you withdrawn from your classes since you’ll be gone the rest of the semester,” he said. I looked at him, confused, “Why would I need to withdraw? I’ll be gone a week max.”

He looked at me, clearly befuddled. “I just assumed you’d need time to grieve…” “My father wouldn’t want me to dwell on this,” I explained. “And it’s my last semester. I graduate in May.” It was the end of January. The semester had just begun. There was no way I was withdrawing from school. Not that I wasn’t sad about my father, but what

would missing school accomplish? It wouldn’t bring him back. If only. “Well,” he replied. “I can get your coursework together and email it to you later during my office hours.” “I would appreciate that,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Thank you.” “And I’m sorry for your loss, Miss

Hunt,” he said. I was already walking away when he said it. I didn’t bother looking back. The tears had started, finally. No need for him to see them.

********

As a 4th year at UVA, I was fortunate enough to have a dorm room to

myself. My roommate from fall semester was traveling abroad. Her side of the room was where I piled all my dirty laundry. As soon as I was in my room I was able to let go a little bit, emotionally. I lay in my bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding down the sides of my face and into my long, now tangled, hair.

“What happened?” I said out loud to no one. “I barely got to know you at all. And now you’re dead?” I looked at my phone. Aunt Beth had texted me the name and number of the contact at Dad’s firm.

NOLAN WESTON 202-555-7895

I sat up. I guessed I should call him.

I wasn’t in the mood for it, but I needed to at least know the details of what had happened. And figure out what my next move was. If I was going to miss school, I needed to figure out how long I’d be away so I could email my professors and my adviser. I dialed. The phone rang for so long that I almost hung up; finally, he answered. “This is Nolan Weston,” he said, his

voice clipped and professional. He sounded like an attorney. “Hi,” I said, suddenly not sure what to say. “I’m Cami Hunt. The daughter of Richard Hunt. My aunt gave me your number.” There was a long pause. For a moment I wasn’t sure if he knew my father or if I’d somehow lost the call. I pulled the phone away from my ear and

looked at the screen. We were still connected. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. But he sounded cold and disinterested. Not sorry at all. “I’m sure you are,” I snapped. “What happened? My aunt was told nothing.” “That’s because she’s not a relative,” Nolan replied. “Your father

suffered a stroke in his home. I found him this morning after he failed to appear at a meeting.” “Did you call 911?” I asked, my voice shaking. “He was already gone by the time I found him.” Nolan’s voice had softened, but only slightly. “I see,” I said. “Well, where is he now?”

“He’s being taken care of. Your father was prepared for this kind of event, though of course none of us expected it this soon,” Nolan said. “You need to get here as soon as possible. I’ve sent a plane for you. It should be touching down in Charlottesville within the hour.” A plane? He sent a plane for me? “How did you know where I was?”

I asked, realizing it was a stupid question. “Your father has very clear instructions on how something like this is to be handled,” Nolan replied. “Obviously the firm is aware of where the owner’s daughter attends school. Do you need me to send a car for you? To get you to the airport?” “Yes. I don’t have a car here, it’s at

my aunt’s house in Richmond,” I said. “Very well. I’ll give the driver your number. He’ll text you when he’s there. Pack what you can as quickly as you can. I’d like you in the air as soon as possible.” “I’m sure you would,” I muttered. If Nolan noticed my anger, he didn’t let on. Or he just didn’t care. “See you soon, Camilla.” He hung

up. Camilla? Only my father called me that.

Three My father had flown me private one time. It had been on my sixteenth birthday. I hadn’t expected to see him. Once my mother died I’d been shipped off to boarding school in Connecticut. I spent most holidays with Aunt Beth, seeing my

father maybe once a year, if that. He emailed me mostly. He seemed to be better with that type of communication. His emails are why I loved him, despite the distance and borderline abandonment. But for my sixteenth birthday, Richard Hunt really came through. He’d surprised me up at Choate, the school I went to throughout high school. I wasn’t

exactly the most popular girl in my class. I was just another girl in a sea of Hollywood kids, politician spawn, and global royalty. I was surrounded by kids with better stories than me, people who shrugged at me being a partial orphan. Their parents were movie stars and Senators. My dad was an attorney and my mother had been a mentally ill shutin. I couldn’t compete with any of them

in almost any sort of way. The girls in my class all had been taught things I’d somehow missed out on. They had glossy hair that never frizzed, long legs, and a way of making our uniforms look chic and modish; they were walking J. Crew ads, and they intimidated the shit out of me. I mostly stayed in my room. I concentrated on academics and lost

myself in books on the weekends. Tried not to think about my mother too much. The few friends I had were like me; regular kids who would have probably stood out more back in their hometowns, but who were just rich kid nobodies at Choate. But that all changed when I turned sixteen. Or at least it changed for a day. But sometimes that’s all you need- one

great day to make up for the mundane ones. It was a Friday. School was out, and for whatever reason a lot of kids were staying on campus that particular weekend. I had been bundled up in a charcoal pea coat and Burberry scarf as I walked across the lawn and back toward my dorm room. The cold snap had started

early in New England and I was already dreading the next few months of gray, slush, sleet, and snow. My mind wasn’t even on my birthday so much. I wasn’t one of those girls in the movies who was going to get a brand new car delivered to her with a big red ribbon on it. I didn’t have a boyfriend to kiss me, or take me further, to mark my sweet sixteen. I wanted those things, but that

wasn’t my life. I’d made peace with that. As I got closer to my dorm, I saw him. My father, in a crisp suit, his salt and pepper hair slightly tousled from his nervous habit of running his hands through it. I could see other girls walking by and staring at him. My father was a handsome man, tall and formidable, with a presence that commanded attention and respect. But he

was a sweet man, and despite his lack of direct involvement in my life, I knew he was good. I also knew there were things that kept him from me that he wouldn’t share. I used to think he might have another family somewhere. I’d never asked him, of course. I never asked questions I didn’t want to know the answers to. “Dad!” I said, a broad smile across

my face. “What are you doing here?” “It’s your sweet sixteen,” he said, as if I should just know. “Yeah but I didn’t know you were coming,” I said. “It doesn’t matter! I’m so happy you’re here.” I threw my arms around him, something that wasn’t easy to do with his height. I had inherited my mother’s stature and figure. I was average height,

and curvy- something I hated about myself. I’d had to wear a woman’s sized bra since sixth grade. I’d never been quite comfortable in my own skin. I’d always wished I could be more like him, long, and lean. Confident. Like I owned the universe. “Well, it’s not a surprise if you know about it,” he said, holding onto me tight. “I missed you, Camilla.”

It was one of the best hugs of my life. “So what are we going to do?” I asked. “Go to dinner? Go into the city?” On the rare occasion my father visited, we usually made a weekend of it. We’d drive to Boston or down to New York; have a huge dinner and see a show if we were in New York or go to a Celtics or Red Sox game in Boston,

depending on the season. “I have something bigger in store,” he said. “You have your passport?” I looked at him, stunned. “Yes,” I said. “But school…” Dad grinned, “I made arrangements. You don’t have to be back until Wednesday. So let’s go on a really great adventure this time. You only turn sixteen once, right?”

I nodded and started jumping up and down, clapping my hands, the way only teenage girls seem to. I tried to be poised and reserved most of the time, but this was all too much. I was overwhelmed with joy. “How long will it take you to pack?” he asked as we walked back toward my dormitory. “Because I’ve made some pretty unique arrangements

for our travel.” “I can throw all my stuff in a suitcase and be packed in… 15 minutes?” I said, hoping that would be enough time since I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to manage that. “That works,” he said, giving me a wink. “Now hurry up, sweetheart. The sooner you’re packed, the sooner it all begins.”

********

I’d never left the country before, unless you counted a trip to Niagara Falls with my freshman class in which we briefly crossed over into Canada, I think mostly for the benefits of the “normals” at Choate, kids like me who didn’t go globetrotting every summer

break. As I threw every decent outfit I had into my suitcase, my mind raced with all the possibilities. Not only was I getting to leave school for almost an entire week, but I was doing it with my dad. It was something I saw other kids do all the time. I’d envied them, even though most of them would roll their eyes anytime their parents came near them. If only they knew how lucky they

were. I finally stuffed my suitcase to its breaking point; I’d had to sit on it to make it zip closed. I glanced in the mirror above my dresser. My skin was flushed, my long brown hair a wild mane of curls and waves. It was the first time I noticed that I was at least half pretty. I’d mostly avoided mirrors since puberty when my body began to betray me. But

now it seemed most things had caught up to one another and I had to admit, I didn’t look half bad. Maybe I’d meet a cute foreign boy and have my first make out session. Who knew what awaited me? When I walked outside my dorm to meet up with my father, I awkwardly lugged my overstuffed luggage behind me. I noticed kids were gathered outside

staring at something. I looked around to see what fuss was about. I heard it before I saw it. I thought it was the sound of a plane at first, but it was too loud for that; whatever it was, was closer than any plane could be. The trees around Memorial Hall whipped around in a frenzy. My father was waving to me with both arms in the middle of the green field in front of

Memorial, a gigantic smile on his face. “Is that a fucking helicopter?” A boy a few feet away from me asked his friend. “Someone’s getting picked up in a heli?” I looked up, and sure enough there was a helicopter landing in the middle of the lawn in front of my dorm. For a moment, I wondered who it was for. But as my father continued to wave to me

and yell out my name, it suddenly dawned on me. The helicopter was for me. “Holy hell,” I muttered, somehow making my legs move forward toward the waiting chopper. “My father brought in a helicopter.” “You mean that’s for you?” A girl I recognized from my English Honors class was standing next to me. She was

one of the intimidating ones- her mother was a famous television actress and her father owned an NFL team. She’d never spoken or acknowledged me, even having been in at least three or four of my classes over the years. “Yep,” I said, trying to sound cavalier and bored with the whole thing. “My dad’s here for the weekend. We’re flying to Europe.” I had no idea if this

was true yet, but what did it matter? “Wow,” she said, clearly impressed. “I had no idea. Have fun.” “Sure,” I said, walking past her toward my adventure. “I always do.”

********

“Since when do you own a helicopter?” I asked when we finally

landed in New York. It had been almost impossible to talk in the “heli,” even with headphones. It was loud and I was still speechless and in awe that I’d just been picked up in front of the entire school in a Bell 430. “I don’t,” Dad said. “The firm uses it sometimes. But I was owed a favor and I wanted you to make a grand exit.” He looked at me, serious for a moment.

“I know sometimes that kind of thing can help at a school like Choate.” That’s what I loved about my father. He knew a lot about how the world worked, even without me having to tell him. Most parents were so clueless. “It was pretty cool,” I said. “Where to now?” “Austria,” he said. Nothing else. He walked ahead of me, leaving me to

ponder what was next.

********

A couple hours later we were gliding above the Atlantic Ocean in a Gulfstream jet, my father punching the keys on his laptop as I sat next to the window in a soft leather seat, a Diet Coke in my hand. I couldn’t remember

the last time I was ever this happy. “Sorry, I have a little bit of work to do before we get to Vienna,” he said. “I promise, no work once we’re there. We’re going to see everything.” And we did. We landed a few hours later and were picked up in a sleek, black SUV which took us to The Ritz Carlton. We napped and then had dinner at Steirereck.

It was the most amazing meal of my short life; so many different dishes. There was hearty goulash, plates of tafelspitz (beef), all kinds of strudels, and then desserts I’d never even dreamed could exist. The menu was completely in German, but my father seemed to understand and speak it as fluently as if he were Austrian himself. He confidently ordered for us and I sat

in complete admiration of my cosmopolitan father who didn’t seem to be a stranger to any place he walked into. After my third strudel, and a glass of wine (“Being that it’s legal here for you to drink, you may have one glass,” my father had said.), I felt loosened up enough to talk more openly with my father, to ask him things I’d rarely had

the chance to before. My father was the ultimate unexplored frontier for me. I knew very little about him, other than the essentials. He was an only child, born on Long Island. He’d been the son of wealthy parents, grandparents I’d never met, and he’d gone to boarding school too, but at Groton. He’d gone to NYU for undergrad and Columbia for law school,

where he’d met my mother. They’d had me a year after meeting, to the day. They never married, but they were always together, until one day my father left and didn’t come back for four years. My mother was devastated; she only knew he was alive because he sent money every month from places all over the world. She assumed it was an affair, another woman. But that was all she

knew; one day he loved her, the next day he didn’t. Something happened when I was seven that changed her, something to do with my father, but I never knew what it was. She stopped being angry with him and instead just became scared for him, for me, and terrified of the world in general. She kept me home for school, had tutors come to teach me my lessons.

Part of me always assumed it was when the cancer must have started. It had made her ill, made her not think about things rationally. But that was all speculation on my part. I knew very little about her, something I realized once she was gone. It made me sad how little I knew the people who made me. Not knowing who they were meant I didn’t completely know who I was either.

But on my sixteenth birthday, at a beautiful restaurant in Vienna, I finally had my chance (and the courage) to ask my father more about himself. “How do you know German?” I asked, as he bit into his pastry. He smiled as he chewed. “Picked it up in college,” he said. “I’m good with languages. Have a knack for them, I suppose. And German is not

so terribly different from English in many ways. Well, the basic words anyway. Here in Vienna there’s a Bavarian dialect…” He started going on and on about language and the differences between all the different German dialects and I quickly grew bored, realizing he’d done what he always did when it came to me getting personal- he’d changed the

subject. After dinner we took a car down to the famous Vienna State Opera House to watch the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, which I knew I should be stoked about, but it meant I wouldn’t get to talk to my father, which was the only thing I was interested in doing. I knew after this trip I probably wouldn’t see him for a while, so I wanted to take

advantage of all the time we had. That night when we finally got home, we were both too exhausted to socialize. We retired to our rooms, but not before my Dad came over to give me a peck on the cheek and a long hug goodnight. “Camilla, I’m so happy,” he said, as he squeezed me tight. “This was one of the best days of my life.”

My heart swelled and my prior agitations were forgotten immediately. “Me too, Dad,” I said. “I love you. Goodnight.” “Goodnight, my darling girl,” he said. “I love you always.”

********

The next morning, after a delicious

breakfast in the grand living room of our suite, my father informed me we were heading to Salzburg. “What’s there?” I asked. “I feel like we still have so much to see here in Vienna.” “Oh we could be here a month and never see all there is to see in this beautiful country,” Dad said as he sipped his coffee. “But we have such

little time, so for this trip, we’re hitting my favorite places. And one day we’ll come back and explore Vienna even more. I promise.” I smiled. I loved knowing there was more to look forward to in the future. “Okay,” I said. “Sounds good to me.” “Salzburg is a beautiful place,” he said. “I have someone there I need to

meet with briefly, but you can come with me. It’s one of our new partners at the firm. He happens to be staying in Salzburg this week, so I thought I would multitask.” “Alright,” I said. “But only a short meet up. I’m pulling the daughter card on you. I get dibs!” He laughed, “Always, Camilla. You’ll always be first in my heart.”

********

My father wasn’t kidding. Salzburg was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. We took a train there from Vienna, and the Alps had whirled by my window, making my jaw drop at their beauty. I still couldn’t believe I was in a land that looked like the setting of every

fairy tale I’d ever read as a kid. And I was with my father. It was like one of my best dreams, the kind I never wanted to wake up from. Our first day was spent walking around the city. It had been the setting for The Sound of Music, my favorite movie as a kid, so I pretended to be one of the Von Trapp kids, marching around town, singing out of tune as my father laughed

at my silliness. There were castles! Stunning cathedrals. And the backdrop of breathtaking mountains. I never wanted to leave. Ever. On our last day in town before taking the plane back to the US and the dreariness that was Choate, my father had the meeting he’d been talking about. “It won’t be long,” he said. “And it

ties into the little tour I want to take you on.” “Where to now?” I asked, yawning. I was tired. I also still felt like I hadn’t broken through the fortress that was my father; I hadn’t learned enough about him. He kept us busy, and part of me felt that was purposeful. It didn’t leave me much time to ask questions. Dad smiled, “Mozart. You’ve heard

of him?” I laughed, “Uh, yeah, Dad. I’ve definitely heard of him.” He winked, “Just making sure your tuition isn’t a complete waste of money. Well, we’re going to visit his birthplace. He was born here in Salzburg. He’s buried in Vienna, but he spent much of his life here. All the beauty you’ve been surrounded by the last couple days is

what inspired him to make the genius that is his music.” I sighed. Not that I didn’t appreciate the brilliance and virtuosity of Mozart, but it felt like I was on a school field trip. I didn’t want to learn more about Mozart. I wanted to learn more about my dad. But my father wasn’t someone I felt comfortable whining to. That sort of

behavior was beneath him, something I was sure he’d look down upon. And I didn’t want to disappoint him. I suppose I can look back now and realize I was just afraid to displease him; afraid he’d stop visiting me if I wasn’t pleasant to be around at all times. So to Mozart’s home we went. “Who are you meeting today?” I asked as we drove across town in a limo

provided by the hotel. “Someone from work?” “Yes,” my father said. “He’s new to the firm. He’s in Salzburg visiting a client, but he’ll be on a new assignment soon and I need to touch base with him.” “What kind of an assignment would an attorney have?” I said. “Don’t you guys just write briefs all day and bark into your cell phone?” I grinned at him.

He laughed, “Well, we do those things, too. But my firm is global, so we have clients all over the world. So sometimes we have to visit them. And as the founder of the firm, I like to get to know our new attorneys.” “I see,” I said, already bored. “Sounds great.” Dad looked at me, sensing I was agitated, “It won’t be long, sweetheart. I

promise.”

********

Mozart’s home was also a museum, so while my father stood outside to talk to his new guy, I wandered around the halls of what had once been Mozart’s home, thinking about how cool it was to literally be walking in the footsteps of

one of the greatest musicians and famous people in the history of the world. At one point I glanced out the window to see the man my father was speaking to. I had to admit, the new guy was pretty hot. My friend Landen would have called him “GQ as fuck!” He was tall, dark hair, a rugged face. He was in a black pea coat, dark slacks, his hair slicked back. He was debonair and

didn’t look like an attorney. I’d pictured a doughy man with glasses and a brief case when I thought attorney. This man could have been a model. He was also incredibly intense. He was listening to my father speak, his gaze laser focused on whatever he was saying. I would have guessed he was probably about thirty. Maybe younger, maybe older. It was hard for me to guess men’s ages.

Besides, I only paid attention to guys my own age. But this one was hard not to look at. Or imagine certain scenarios with… I turned away from the window and wandered around some more. I had stopped to look at Mozart’s childhood violin when my father joined me, finally. They’d been speaking for over half an hour.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed my head. “Took a little longer than I thought it would.” “Is all okay?” I asked. “Oh yes. All is well,” he said, smiling. But there was something in his eyes that told me different. “Handsome guy, your new guy,” I said as we walked toward the next

exhibit. “Sorry, I had to take a peek.” My father laughed, “Oh Lord, Camilla. You sounded so grown up just now. Don’t grow up on me too fast.” We walked around some more but I was growing bored, and my father seemed distracted by something. “So why bring me here?” I finally asked him. “I know there’s a lesson in everything we do.”

Dad nodded, “Yes. Very true. Well, I’m a big fan of Wolfgang. You know, he was born to a musician. His father, Leopold. From the time Mozart existed, his destiny was laid out before him. Yes, he was a genius, but to be immersed in something is to make it anything but a choice. Mozart was composing at 4 years old. He went on tours by 6 years old. His genius is undeniable, but it’s

always made me sad in a way, how he was never given a chance to pursue anything else.” My father’s face grew sad for a moment. “Dad,” I said. “He’s Mozart. One of the great geniuses of our time. I don’t think he minded. Like you said, if something is your destiny, it’s going to happen either way. There’s no other choice.”

“Maybe so,” Dad replied. “You know, his rival, Salieri, used to say Mozart was in direct contact with God. Because he could compose so quickly and beautifully, like God Himself was dictating the notes to Mozart. He was definitely touched by something. Every time I come here, I think of that. Of destiny, of whether everything is predetermined.”

It was an odd conversation to be having with him. There were layers to it that I couldn’t see. What we were talking about wasn’t really what we were talking about. “I don’t think so,” I said. “Nothing is predetermined. We get to choose. I plan on choosing what I want to do with my life. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I know when I do, it won’t be because of

anything but my own volition.” My father looked at me, surprised. As if he was seeing me for the first time. “Camilla, that makes me proud to hear you say that,” he said. “Yes. Choose your life. Make it what you want it to be. It’s a lesson I wish I had learned earlier. That I had choices. That I didn’t have to do what was asked of me or expected.” “What do you mean?” I asked. We

were on the edge of a breakthrough. I could feel it. My father paused for a long moment. I could tell he was mulling over something. “Another time,” he finally said. “We will talk about that further down the road. Just know I am proud of you, Camilla. And I always will be.”

Four I was thinking about that trip to Austria as I flew on a private plane for the second time in my life, across the country to Tahoe. Everything Nolan Weston told me had worked out smoothly. I’d packed, been picked up in a black SUV, and been taken to the small

private airport in Charlottesville where a Gulfstream jet awaited me. And now I was trying not to cry thinking about talking to my father about Mozart when I was sixteen years old. And how we’d never gone back to the topic of destiny or how my father had been talked into his own, long before I even existed. And we never would. It broke my heart.

It was just me and the pilot on the plane. It had been almost dark when I boarded and now as we flew it felt like we were chasing the sun, going back into the past. I hadn’t travelled much to the western part of the States. My father had taken me to Disneyland when I was nine and my mother and I had gone to Palm Springs once for a spa weekend. Otherwise, it was a strange land to me. I

looked out my window at the darkness, seeing great swaths of black only occasionally dotted by lights down below, the world closing down as I sped across it. What was I to expect? Would I have to identify my father? Where would the funeral be? Where would he be buried? So many questions, the kind that made me nervous. My father’s firm was large,

I assumed there would be a ton of things for me to sign, to consider, to learn. I didn’t want to do any of it. I just wanted my father back.

********

It was a five-hour flight. By the time we reached South Lake Tahoe, California, I was exhausted in every way

a person could be exhausted. I ached in my bones from the stress of what was happening. All I wanted was a bed and about 14 hours of uninterrupted slumber. The plane taxied in, and before long we were disembarking. The pilot carried my bags down the stairs onto the tarmac. I took one last look at the interior of the plane, not sure what awaited me outside it. But somehow I

knew nothing was ever going to be the same. Outside the jet was yet another black SUV and a driver in a crisp suit, large and imposing. He nodded to me and took the bags from the pilot, placing them in the back of the car. The pilot opened the back passenger side door for me. “Miss Hunt, I am truly sorry for

your loss,” he said. “I hope your stay here in Tahoe is as pleasant as possible under these circumstances.” “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that.” The large Secret Service looking dude climbed into the driver’s side and slowly drove us off the tarmac and toward wherever our final destination would be.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked. “I thought I was supposed to meet Nolan Weston.” “Mr. Weston is waiting for you at your father’s home,” the driver said. “Which is where I am taking you. Do you need to stop for anything on our way?” I shook my head, “No. Thank you for asking.”

The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror, “I’m sorry too, Miss Hunt. My name is Michael by the way. I will be your driver while you’re here in Tahoe. Mr. Weston can provide you with my contact information should you need me for anything. A pretty big storm is coming through in the next couple of days so it may be hard to get in and out. They’re expecting a couple feet of snow

out where Mr. Hunt’s home is.” Great, I thought. Just what I needed. I nodded and quietly stared out the window into the night. It was dark out here in South Lake Tahoe, but I could see the shadows of the Sierra Nevada looming over us as we glided toward my destiny, something that I wanted no part of.

********

I knew my father was wealthy. It was part of my life, his money, and I’d never been in the dark about that. Even though I barely saw him, I’d wanted for nothing. My mother and I had lived in a large house in Virginia before her death, paid for by him. Obviously he’d taken

me on the very expensive trip to Austria for my 16th birthday. He’d also sent me to expensive camps every summer in places like upstate New York where I sweated in cabins with other rich kid types. I went to Choate Rosemary Hall, one of the most expensive boarding schools in the country. I’d taken equestrian classes and piano lessons. Before Choate I’d had tutors come to my

mother’s home to teach me Latin, the Classics, French, and Trigonometry. I was well educated, well bred, and definitely the daughter of a rich man. I was no stranger to large homes, expensive cars, and rich people’s kids. I’d been surrounded by wealth and opulence my entire life. But my father’s home in Tahoe was something that stunned even me.

It was expansive, for one thing. It sat on top of a mountain, one the driver had to drive slowly up in order for us to even get to the imposing gate that stopped any approaching vehicles before they could even glimpse the house. The property overlooked the tranquil Lake Tahoe and was surrounded by pines, but not hidden by them. It couldn’t be. The home was much too large for such a

thing. As we pulled up the long drive and around the final bend that brought everything into view, I stared, awestruck. This had to be my father’s main home. I’d visited him at his Manhattan apartment, his house in Newport, Rhode Island, which was very grand, and his beach house in West Palm Beach. But Tahoe was something

completely different. He’d never even told me about it. So this would be the first secret revealed. Michael pulled up next to the entrance, which was an enormous paneled door made out of what was probably wood from a Sequoia. It looked like the perfect sort of door for this impenetrable fortress of a house.

This wasn’t a house. It was a compound. Why had my father needed a place like this? Michael came around to open my door, but I was already halfway out of the car, my Burberry duffel bag over my shoulder. I took in the entirety of the house, not knowing what to expect. The mountain air had a sharpness to it, and I inhaled deeply, feeling a cold freshness

down deep in my lungs. My father had lived and died here. And now I was here to clean up the mess, while also dealing with my own grief. I inhaled again and then exhaled slowly. This would be the hardest thing I might ever do. But he’d want me to be strong. He believed in me. “Mr. Weston is inside,” Michael said. “I’ll grab your luggage, Miss Hunt.

The door should be unlocked.” It was weird to walk through a door without knocking, but I guessed this was my house now, legally speaking. So it was silly to knock. But it still felt… odd. The foyer of the home was as impressive as the exterior. It led to an open living room decorated in rich, rustic colors and décor. Very mountainesque. The windows to the living room

were floor to ceiling, and the ceiling was two levels above my head, affording an impressive view of the lake. Outside, I could see the ground sloped down to a pool (which was covered for the winter) and a hot tub, which was not. “Jesus, Dad,” I said to myself. “You really outdid yourself.” I could see the moon’s reflection in

the great Lake Tahoe, and a billion stars shown over it, not dimmed a bit by the casinos and hotels on the far side of the lake. I was in my own world on this side. Another planet practically. I dropped my bag to the floor and walked over to the plush sectional couch of the living room, collapsing on it. “I see you made it okay,” a deep voice said from behind me. I recognized

it immediately. It was Nolan Weston. I didn’t bother turning around, “You sound disappointed.” “Of course not,” he said. “I just know it was a sudden trip to be taking after getting the worst kind of news a person can get. So it’s good to see you made it here safely and can now take a moment for yourself.” I rolled my eyes, “Did you rehearse

that?” He sighed, “No. I meant it. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.” I turned around to ask him what he could imagine, and I gasped. This trip was truly full of surprises. Nolan Weston stood behind me in a cable knit sweater and dark denim jeans. He was tall, with dark slicked back hair, and a rugged face. He looked like

something straight out of a Brooks Brothers catalog. He had the slightest graying at his temples but that didn’t matter. I immediately recognized him. Nolan Weston was not just any of my father’s attorneys. He was the new guy from years ago. The one we’d met in Salzburg. Or the one my father had met in Salzburg and I had spied on. I wasn’t sure what to say next. All I

knew is that things had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.

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