Chapter One
Jack
JackMontgomerytightenedhisgrip on the steering wheel as his SUV bounced along the sandy driveway. The wheels crunched over gravel, each jolt reverberating up his arms. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until his knuckles whitened against the leather.
The scent of saltwater rushed through the open windows, mingling with the sharp calls of seagulls overhead, tugging at memories he’d tried to bury.
Amanda used to love that scent—the way ocean air once made her eyes light up, how she’d stand at the shore breathing it in like it held all the joy in the world. Now, it pressed heavy against his chest, a cruel reminder that she wasn’t here to share it anymore.
He glanced into the rearview mirror, catching his daughter Chloe’s eager reflection as she bounced excitedly in the back seat. Her laughter rang out, high and pure, and something inside him cracked open. It was the first genuine smile he'd allowed himself in months—and it came from her.
“Daddy, look!” Chloe squealed, pointing to the shimmering blue ocean peeking through gaps in the sea oats. “It's so pretty!”
Jack nodded, his throat tightening as a lump rose and caught his breath mid-motion. His late wife, Amanda, would have loved this view—she always dreamed about escaping to a peaceful seaside retreat. Memories rose unbidden, vividly recalling their last family vacation, Amanda’s laughter mixing with Chloe’s excited squeals as they built sandcastles by the ocean. He clenched his jaw, forcing those bittersweet moments aside. He needed strength now, especially for Chloe.
Jack had spent years building a healthcare empire most men twice his age would envy—founding hospitals, expanding clinics, gathering wealth and accolades he barely noticed piling up. But none of it had protected Amanda. None of it had filled the hollow space she left behind. Here in Seaview Harbor, stripped of titles and power, he hoped he could finally learn how to simply live.
Pulling up to their new beach house, Jack released a steadying breath. The property promised solitude and peace, tucked into a quiet corner of Seaview Harbor, secluded enough to feel private yet close enough to neighboring homes to catch the gentle hum of conversation or laughter drifting from several directions.
Not long ago, Jack’s days had been governed by hospital board meetings, endless patient rounds, and corporate expansion plans. In Charleston, ambition had been a currency—and he had traded it all for a life that left him hollow inside. Seaview Harbor wasn’t just a fresh start. It was his last chance to remember what it meant to be human again.
Boxes piled high in every room, filled with framed family photographs, Amanda's cherished books, Chloe's art supplies, and his own well-worn medical texts—each item a stark reminder of the life they'd left behind. One box still bore Amanda’s handwriting in blue marker—her looping, familiar script instantly tightening his chest.
For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the blue letters like they might flicker or fade, as if acknowledging them would make the loss more permanent: "Living Room—Books + Photos." The sight of her looping script made his chest tighten—a sharp echo of familiarity that both comforted and crushed him, the way her notes used to show up on lunch bags and birthday cards. He wasn’t ready for that kind of memory, not here, not yet.
Determinedly, he began unpacking, stacking plates into cabinets and setting out Chloe’s favorite toys. His fingers brushed over the spine of Amanda’s favorite novel, worn at the edges, and for a moment, he could hear her voice reading aloud on lazy Sunday afternoons. He swallowed hard, each movement measured and deliberate to maintain control over his racing emotions.
“Daddy?” Chloe’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. She stood by the door, clutching her bright beach ball tightly. Her blue eyes were filled with cautious hope. “Do you think Mommy likes our new house?”
Jack’s heart clenched painfully. He knelt down to Chloe’s level, gently brushing a loose curl from her cheek. “I’m sure she does, sweetheart. Mommy always loved places like this.”
Chloe gave him a thoughtful nod, seemingly reassured, before darting back outside. Through the window, Jack watched her kick the beach ball across the sandy yard, giggles echoing softly through the warm afternoon air. He was momentarily grateful for her resilience, her laughter a balm to his wounded heart.
But his moment of peace was short-lived. With a powerful kick, the ball soared unexpectedly over the fence into their neighbor’s garden, followed by Chloe’s startled cry.
“Daddy, my ball!” Chloe called urgently. “It went over there!”
Jack sighed heavily. Meeting neighbors wasn’t part of the plan—he wasn’t ready for polite smiles or curious questions that might chip away at the quiet space he was trying to build around his grief, at least not yet. But Chloe’s pleading expression gave him no choice. Bracing himself, he stepped onto the walkway, gritty sand shifting beneath his shoes.
At the white picket fence gate, Jack paused, momentarily stunned by the kaleidoscope of colors and scents. He inhaled the sweet fragrance of jasmine intertwined with the earthy aroma of freshly tilled soil. Butterflies drifted lazily from bloom to bloom, their delicate wings flashing in the sunlight, and the gentle rustle of leaves whispered a tranquil welcome that felt both comforting and disorienting amidst his internal turmoil.
Beyond lay a lush garden, bursting with blooms that danced in vibrant yellows and pinks, bathed in sunlight that felt almost surreal compared to the somber haze of grief he carried. The brightness was blinding, overwhelming, and entirely unexpected.
“Lose something?” a cheerful voice called, jolting him from his trance.
Jack glanced up sharply. Amid the flowers stood a woman, holding Chloe’s bright beach ball. Her radiant smile lit up her face, warmth emanating from her like sunshine. Golden hair cascaded around her shoulders, shimmering in the sunlight.
Jack felt suddenly self-conscious of his rumpled shirt and weary expression. For a heartbeat, something inside him stirred—a flicker of connection he hadn’t expected and certainly hadn’t wanted. It unnerved him, that jolt of attraction piercing through his carefully managed grief like sunlight breaking into a darkened room.
“My daughter’s ball,” he explained awkwardly, stepping closer.
She chuckled warmly, stepping forward to meet him. “I figured. I’m Claire Daniels, your closest neighbor, though we still have plenty of space here.” Her eyes sparkled with genuine friendliness.
“Jack Montgomery,” he offered stiffly, trying to mask the sudden, uncomfortable flutter in his chest. “We just moved in.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Claire said sincerely, holding out the ball. Her fingertips brushed his hand briefly, sending a surprising jolt through him.
An awkward silence followed. Jack shifted uncomfortably, wrestling with conflicting thoughts. Part of him wanted to retreat immediately, yet another, quieter part found himself oddly reluctant to leave Claire's presence. The silence was finally broken by Chloe’s innocent voice calling from behind the gate, pulling him abruptly from his tangled thoughts. “Daddy, is that lady nice? She looks pretty!”
