A few days later, they’d decided to try a change of scenery for the picnic and drove a few miles down to the public beach near the old fishing pier—somewhere different from the quiet stretch behind their homes. The afternoon wore on with lazy, sun-drenched peace. Chloe and Gabe darted back and forth between the blanket and the waves, returning each time with shells and stories. Gabe insisted one shell was a shark's tooth, and Chloe gasped with theatrical awe. "We have to show Dad!" she cried, tugging him toward their makeshift treasure pile.
Claire laughed as Jack let himself be pulled forward, crouching beside the kids to examine each item with mock seriousness. "This one," he said, holding up a broken shell, "looks like a dragon scale. I think we should alert the coast guard."
Their giggles were contagious, and Claire felt a lightness bloom in her chest as she watched them together. When Jack returned to sit beside her, sand still clinging to his palms, he gave her a sideways smile. "They’re starting to look like siblings."
"It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?" Claire said softly, brushing crumbs from her lap. "It’s like they’ve always known each other."
"Maybe they have," Jack murmured, and the moment stretched gently between them. A blanket spread over the sand, a cooler packed with sandwiches and sliced fruit, and two kids chasing seagulls—it was simple, but perfect.
Claire sat cross-legged, watching Chloe braid wildflowers into Gabe’s hair, the gentle scene stirring a stark contrast to the chaos that had once defined her mornings. Back in the city, everything had been rushed—tangled schedules, burnt toast, arguments with Derek echoing down hallways.
She remembered one morning in particular—a scene seared into her memory with jarring clarity: standing in the kitchen with a cold cup of coffee in her hand, Gabe tugging at her sleeve while Derek barked into a headset in the next room. She'd felt invisible. Frayed. Like everything was slipping out from under her and she had to pretend it was all fine.
Now, as the breeze lifted her hair and laughter bubbled from her son’s lips, Claire felt the difference like a balm. Here, peace wasn’t just possible—it was present.
Here, in the open breeze with sand beneath her toes and laughter in the air, peace felt like something she'd earned, not stumbled into.
Jack handed her a bottle of water as he sat beside her with a long, satisfied exhale, stretching his legs out in front of him as if letting go of something he'd been carrying all day. A gentle hush settled between them, broken only by the soft hiss of waves against the shore and the distant calls of the kids. Claire took a deep breath, soaking in the calm.
He took a long sip of his water and glanced out toward the shoreline, then looked at her again. “It’s been a good day,” he said. “Simple. Peaceful. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
Claire nodded, brushing a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “I think we all did.”
He smiled faintly, watching the kids continue their hunt for seashells. “Makes me wonder what else I’ve been missing by keeping everything at arm’s length.”
Claire tilted her head toward him, the corners of her lips lifting. “Maybe not everything has to be held so far away.”
Jack thought on that for a moment and then said, “They’re good together.”
“They really are,” Claire said, her gaze lingering on the children. “I wasn’t sure what to expect when we moved here. I just knew I needed to start over, and it's been wonderful for Gabe making new friends, Chloe most of all.”
“You’ve done more than that,” Jack said. “You’ve built something new. And you pulled me into it without even trying.”
The honesty in his voice caught her off guard. She turned to him, startled by the emotion in his expression.
Before she could respond, a low rumble rolled over the horizon. Claire glanced up, surprised to see clouds gathering fast, the sunlight dimming beneath a thickening sky.
“Oh no,” she said. “Storm’s rolling in.”
“We’ve got about ten minutes, tops,” Jack said, already on his feet. “Let’s get everything packed.”
They scrambled to gather the food, the blanket, the kids. Fat droplets began to fall just as they reached the car, soaking their shoulders and darkening the sand.
Claire ducked inside the passenger seat, dripping and breathless with laughter. Gabe and Chloe were squealing in the back seat, wiping foggy windows with their elbows.
Jack slid behind the wheel and looked over at her, water beading in his hair, his shirt clinging to his arms. And then he laughed—really laughed—deep and free and unrestrained.
Claire joined him, the sound filling the enclosed space like music.
Outside, the rain fell harder.
Inside, there was only warmth.
“You okay?” he asked after a moment.
Claire met his gaze. “More than okay.”
As laughter died down in the car, Chloe pointed out raindrops racing each other down the windows, and Gabe declared it a tie every time. Jack turned in his seat, peering out at the shifting clouds and softening rain.
