April stood up and leaned on the porch rail, desperate for the warmth of the afternoon sun on her body. The chills had started rippling through her as soon as she had mentioned her ex’s name. “I couldn’t understand the way his moods swung from good to bad until one day it hit me. He was on drugs. Of course he denied it, but all the signs were there. PTSD seemed likely due to his career, but he refused to discuss it with me or his doctor.”
“You should have called me, April. I would have come. You know I would have.” She could hear the pain in his voice.
“I couldn’t do that to you, Atticus. It wasn’t your problem. I’m the one who married him and you know what they say? I made my own bed, I had to deal with it.” She sighed. “To cut the story short, he took his own life. I’d made the decision to leave and I did. I moved into a women’s shelter and the following week he was gone.”
“I’m sorry.” He gazed out over the water. “You blamed yourself, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. It was my fault he finally decided to end his life. I’ve never ever been so gutted. As much as we didn’t get along anymore, the last thing I would wish on anyone is what he must have gone through.”
“Do I really need to tell you that it wasn’t your fault? Surely you understand that, April.”
“Yes I do, but I still blame myself.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s something I have to live with.”
“The children must have been devastated.”
“Not really. They knew something was going on the last few years. He’d left the Marines, got more withdrawn as time passed. There were days he never even acknowledged his own children. They got used to not having him around even if he was in the room. It became a game of cat and mouse whenever they made a comment about his behavior. I’d deflect it the best I could. I hated lying to my children, Atticus, but it was sad to see the way he’d become, even around them.”
“I can’t begin to imagine how terrible it must have been for all of you.”
“I guess children are more resilient than we give them credit for. But if it wasn’t for the fact I managed to get work as a nurse, we would have starved.” She bit her lip, hating to finally admit this. “I didn’t have anyone to help me after he died. His parents blamed me and refused to help me. If I got held up at work, they would be left with a babysitter and I couldn’t do that anymore. Money was too tight. The part-time job with Drew was like a dream come true for us.”
“Darlin’ you should have come home earlier. We’re here for you. I want you to know that.”
“I always knew you would be but after what happened between Drew and I, well I didn’t want to assume anything. But I couldn’t help but come back to Hope Harbor. It was the only place I ever felt safe.”
* * *
Drew closed the door of the clinic and climbed into his car. Before he headed home he wanted to go and see if the painters had finished the inside of his house. He drove down to the harbor and headed around the coast on the ocean road. He loved this time of evening, when the colors softened and the harbor quietened.
Drew pressed the button and lowered his window, letting in the cool sea breeze. He couldn’t get over how quickly April had agreed with him about moving forward. It was silly for a grown man to hold out hope for so long that the love of his life would come back and want to pick up the pieces.
He turned left down the private road toward the house he’d purchased over a year ago. The views were what drew him to buy the property as soon as it came on the market, or so he told himself. Jeff had brought him out here and he’d stood in front of the house overlooking the ocean, and knew then and there that this house was his. He had a history with this place and couldn’t bear to let it go now he had the chance to make it his. The ever-changing scenery never ceased to amaze him. On a clear day he could see over to the other islands, and if the night was cloudless and still, the lights on the mainland gave him a lovely show.
The painters were still at the house and so was his father. He’d been overseeing the work so Drew could concentrate on his business. Drew pulled up and got out of the car as his father walked out the wide front doors onto the veranda that overlooked the bay.
“I was hoping you would show up here before you went home.” Atticus waited as Drew walked up.
“It’s looking great.”
“It is. Come and see what you think of the color in the living room. The boys have almost finished the first coat, and will be back tomorrow for the final coat.” He turned and walked back inside, stepping around ladders, drop cloths, and paint cans.
Drew stood in the doorway, hands on hips, taking in the wide open space of the room that looked directly over the water. Once it was furnished it would be stunning. “I love it. You were right toning the color down, Dad. Any darker would have made the walls close in on the room.”
“Glad you approve, son.”
“I appreciate you taking
