“You’re human. You’re allowed to be torn.”
“But I’m not torn anymore.” She looked at me, a peace settling in her expression. “I’m going to turn it down.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“I’m sure.” She took a shaky breath. “I need to tell Mia first, though. Before I email Ethan. She should hear it from me.”
“She’ll understand.”
“I hope so.”
I kissed her forehead. “Let’s go home.”
She nodded, sliding out of the booth. I left cash on the table—more than enough to cover the untouched fries—and followed her out into the afternoon sun.
In the parking lot, she stopped and turned to face me.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For not pushing. For not putting your own desires before mine. That’s love, Vance Prescott.”
“I’m so in love with you, it makes me feel dizzy.” I cupped her face in my hands. “The thought of being away from you for an hour, let alone weeks, is unbearable. Whatever you chose, I was going to support you. But I’m not going to lie—I’m relieved.”
“Me too.” She kissed me, soft and certain. “Let’s go home. Talk to the girls. Email Ethan.”
We drove back through Willet Cove, her hand in mine, and I found myself seeing the town through completely different eyes than I had as a restless eighteen-year-old desperate to escape.
Back then, I'd thought this place was too small, too predictable. I'd wanted Paris, London, anywhere that felt bigger than the life my mother had built here. And I'd gotten what Iwanted. A glamorous job in Paris. Traveling the world. Falling in love with my baby girl. Losing her. Making the choice to come home, with my hope for a reconciliation with Margot the most important thing I packed into moving boxes. Growing from each experience. All of it making me into the man I was now.
Now, driving down Main Street with Lila beside me, I saw what I'd been too young to appreciate. A sleepy little town perfect for raising a family.
We passed the old bank building where Gillian's dance studio occupied the second floor. I could already picture Margot in ballet shoes, excited for her first recital, Lila, Mia, and me in the front row cheering too loud. Rainy Sunday mornings browsing the shelves in Dorian’s bookstore, each of us choosing a book to take home. Taking home a bag of bagels from the bakery to eat while we read by the fire.
Delphine’s gallery doors were open this afternoon, inviting people in to see beauty hanging on the walls and in glass cases. Lila and I would choose art together for the house we would share. My childhood home, transformed for this new season in my life.
I glanced at Esme's flower shop, color spilling onto the sidewalk. How many bouquets would I get for Lila over the years? And the girls too. Graduations and proms and sweet sixteen birthday parties.
The ocean stretched beside us, constant and unchanging, and I felt the spirits of my family who had made this their home for three generations. Perhaps they’d called me home and brought my little girl back to me. And given me the idea to go on a dating app where the woman of my dreams awaited.
A town was just a town. But it was the people who made it a home.
This quiet certainty, this partnership, this life we were creating together far exceeded any TV deal, or European city, or prestigious job. Family was the grandest adventure of them all.
When we pulled into the driveway, Esme’s SUV was already parked in front of the house.
Lila squeezed my hand. “I can’t wait to tell them everything.”
We walked in together, and Esme looked up from where she was loading beach towels into a bag. The French doors to the terrace were open. The girls were eating apple slices and peanut butter with Robbie and Madison, all of them still in their swimsuits.
Esme, wearing a pair of overalls shorts, and her hair in a ponytail, greeted us. “How did it go?”
“Good,” Lila said. “Really good, actually.”
Lila told her quickly what had transpired. “And I’m turning it down.”
Esme clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Oh, Lila, are you sure?”
