Or maybe something was wrong, and he’d gotten hurt…
With a grunt, she picked up her phone again and scrolled to his name, only to see that the last text just said “delivered” and hadn’t been read.
Sighing against growing concern, she typed another text.
Everything okay? Not like you to be late. I’m getting worried!
She hit Send, but instantly a red notification came up that the text couldn’t be sent.
Weird. She tried again, same thing.
Something wasn’t right. She called his number, and pressed the cell to her ear.
“The number you have dialed is not in service.”
What? She held out the phone and blinked at it, not believing the recording she’d just heard. His phone wasn’t in service?
Oh—it wasn’t a personal phone. He’d told her that was his Destin PD phone and he must have turned it back in. That made sense, actually. He was probably halfway to Pensacola now and when he got his own phone back, he’d text her that this was best for both of them.
And he’d be right.
For the first time in her life, she wasn’t beholden to anyone. Not to Maggie, or Ryan, not to the expectations that had boxedher in for almost fifty years. She had carved out this small but beautiful slice of a life for herself, and it was hers. She didn’t need a man to give it meaning.
She paid for her food and drinks, ignored the look of pity from the server who assumed—correctly—that she’d been stood up, and smoothed her sundress as she stood.
Instead of walking to her car, she headed to the beach, now nearly dark as the stars came out. There were a few people, and, out of deference to nesting turtles, almost no light but the moon.
“Alone,” she whispered as she slipped off her sandals and her feet hit the sugary sand. “All alone.”
Gazing up at the nearly full moon, she wandered down by the water and stood very still while the froth of the waves washed over her bare feet.
It finally made sense why she’d been teetering between Danny and Peter. She wasn’t ready to fall in love again, not with anyone. At this point in her life, she only needed Vivien Lawson.
She walked for a while, playfully kicking the sand and enjoying the warm water. The sun disappeared completely, leaving just moonlight and salty air bathing a woman who finally realized what she needed—her family, her job, and the Summer House.
She needed to steady her course and strengthen that backbone she’d been developing, and discover just who Vivien was.
With the realization, her heart lifted and she turned around, practically dancing over the sand to head back home. She was excited to tell Lacey what she’d decided, and Tessa, Kate, and Eli.
She knew they’d love and support her. Heck, even Maggie would give a nod of respect for this decision—that woman knew a thing or two about surviving and thriving alone.
Satisfied and excited about the future, she slipped into her car and drove home, still wondering about Peter but certain she was making the right choice.
It was nearly ten and the Summer House looked dark and quiet when she pulled in. Tomorrow was a big day of remembrance and celebration and everyone would be up early to join Tessa and Jo Ellen in sending Artie’s ashes into the Gulf.
Everyone but Maggie.
Maybe she’d change her mind. In fact, Vivien thought as she parked and opened the door, she should go slip into her mother’s room right now and tell her what a dumb move it was to hold on to?—
Headlights suddenly bathed the driveway in light, and she turned, blinded by them. The car stopped and the door shot open.
“Viv! Vivien!” She heard Peter’s voice but couldn’t see him even after the headlights went out.
Blinking into the darkness, she felt her way toward him, a little shocked when he reached her first and wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug.
“Oh, you’re here. You’re here…” She could feel his heart hammering, his shirt damp with sweat.
“I was at the—” She pulled back to see his face looked wrecked. Dirty and…whoa. Was that blood on his cheek? “Where were you?”
