She sank onto the sofa, her legs suddenly feeling weak beneath her. Jonah turned from the window, his eyes meeting hers. In that moment, it was as if the years melted away and they were young again, their love forbidden by the rigid expectations of her family and society.
“I’m sorry,” Jonah said, his voice rough with emotion. “For leaving the way I did. For letting you believe I was dead. But I thought… I thought it would be easier for you. Easier for you to marry Theodore.”
“And all these years, I thought it was my fault you died. You were at the docks because I was supposed to come meet you. But I never showed up. And then… you were gone. I blamed myself.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Ellie. It wasn’t your fault. I understood when you didn’t show up that you chose Theodore. I didn’t blame you for making that choice, but it hurt deeply. It was easier to just go away. I couldn’t bear to see you with him.”
“I was a young fool.” She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I guess you did what you had to do. We both did.”
He crossed the room and sat down beside her, his presence both familiar and strange. “I never stopped thinking about you, Ellie. Not for a single day.”
The use of her old nickname, the one only he had ever called her, made her heart ache with longing. She reached out and took his hand, marveling at the way it still fit perfectly in hers.
“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
His eyes widened, and for a moment, she feared she had said too much. But then he smiled, a soft, gentle smile that made her feel like everything might be all right after all.
“I never stopped loving you either,” he said, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.
They sat like that for a long time, their hands intertwined, as the years of separation melted away. There was still so much to say, so much to discuss, but for now, it was enough to simply be in each other’s presence, to know that the love they had once shared had never truly died.
Eleanor sat up late that night, sleep eluding her. Winston had long abandoned her and was snoring softly in his bed. She got up from her dressing table and walked over to the window, looking out over her garden softly lit by the light of the moon.
Her choice all those years ago had shaped her destiny. Shaped Jonah’s destiny.
Choices always have consequences.
Like her choice to marry Theodore. Like the choices Vera had made to be with Lawrence. And Lawrence’s feelings for Vera. And suddenly, she realized that Lawrence was just like her. He’d married who he was expected to marry, who his family wanted him to marry, instead of the woman he loved.
Eleanor let out a long, deep sigh. She should have stood up to her father all those years ago. Gone to meet Jonah that night. All these years she’d blamed herself for Jonah’s death. Because if she’d gone to meet him, he would have been with her instead of working on the docks, securing the boats.
And yet, here she was, with the unexpected gift that Jonah was still alive. And the pain that tore at her for all of her adult life was eased with the knowledge he lived. Her choice hadn’t killed him.
She walked back and forth in the room, restless. If only she’d chosen Jonah all those years ago. Her life would have been so different. She wouldn’t have been trapped in a loveless marriage… albeit one of her own choosing. And maybe her children would have had a lick of sense, unlike Cliff and his ridiculous idea to put up a high-rise on the island.
Life had a funny way of pointing out your mistakes, and she’d made many. She sat back down at her dressing table and pulled out the envelope with Jonah’s photo in it. She smiled as she ran her finger over it. He’d changed so much, and yet not a bit. Some grey threaded through his dark brown hair. His face was weathered from years of working outdoors. But his smile… it was still the same. And the way he looked at her? Yes, that was still the same too.
She set the photo out, resting against the mirror, no longer hidden away in the drawer.
Chapter25
The next morning after breakfast, Felicity went for a walk on the beach with Brent. Gran had practically thrown them out of the house and insisted they go off alone. Which was fine with Felicity, because she couldn’t wait to have a chance to talk with Brent again. Something or someone kept interrupting them.
Her bare feet sank into the warm sand as she strolled along the beach with Brent, his hand strong and reassuring in hers. She found herself stealing glances at him as they walked. The morning sun sparkled across the water, and a gentle breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean.
“I can’t believe how much has changed in just a few weeks,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
He squeezed her hand. “Good changes, I hope?”
She stopped and nodded. “Definitely good. I feel like I’m rediscovering myself here on Magnolia Key. I have no desire to leave. Ever.”
“Ever?”
“There is just something that Magnolia brings to me. A part of me that’s been missing. I’ll sort out what I’m going to do here, but in the meantime, Gran can use my help at the B&B.” She turned to him. “And what are your plans? I mean, after you finish your research.”
“Well, for now, I can find no definitive proof about anything actually going on between Vera and Lawrence. We know he had feelings for her, but since the letter was still in the wall at the B&B, Vera never got it. I guess he never acted on his feelings. And even with my research—and I swear I really did research diligently—Vera just disappeared sometime in the late 1920s or early 1930s. I can’t find a trace of her in any records.”
“So you’re not going to publish anything about them?”
