“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For asking. For wanting me there. It matters.”
“You matter,” Beth said simply. “That's the whole point.”
They said goodbye, and Beth sat with the phone in her lap,watching through the coffee shop window as Gabriel stood at the counter chatting with the barista. He gestured with his hands as he talked, the way he always did, expressive and animated. The barista was laughing at something he said.
Her husband. The father of her children. The man who had walked into her life when she wasn't looking for anyone and had somehow become the center of everything.
In a few days, they would be parents. Their family would grow from two to four in a single moment. Emily would be there to help. Beth's mother would be there to guide. Grandma Sarah would be there to dispense wisdom and opinions in equal measure.
The babies shifted inside her, a rolling motion that made her catch her breath. She pressed her hand against her belly and felt a tiny foot push back against her palm.
“Almost time,” she whispered. “Are you ready?”
No answer came, of course. Just another kick, another reminder that she was not alone, had not been alone for months. She was a vessel, a home, a bridge between what was and what would be.
Gabriel emerged from the coffee shop with two cups and a paper bag that undoubtedly contained muffins. He slid into the driver's seat and handed her a cup.
“Decaf,” he said. “Before you ask.”
“I wasn't going to ask.”
“You were going to give me the look.”
“What look?”
“The 'if you brought me caffeine, I might drink it even though I'm not supposed to' look.”
Beth took a sip of the decaf, which was terrible but warm. “I don't have a look.”
“You have many looks. I've catalogued them.”
“That's creepy.”
“That's love.”
She smiled despite herself and leaned her head back against the seat. The babies were quiet now, perhaps lulled by the motion of the car or the warmth of the heater. In a few days, they would be here. In a few days, everything would change.
But for now, there was coffee and muffins and the man she loved beside her. For now, that was enough.
CHAPTER 8
The beach at six in the morning belonged to no one and everyone.
Maggie walked along the shoreline with her sandals in her hand, letting the cold water wash over her feet with each retreating wave. The sun had not yet fully risen, just a pale glow on the eastern horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of lavender and rose. The air was cool, carrying the salt-smell of the Gulf and something else, something clean and new that only existed in the hours before the world woke up.
She had not slept well. Too many thoughts circling in her mind, too many plans and timelines and emotions jostling for attention. At five-thirty, she had given up on sleep entirely, slipped out of bed without waking Paolo, and made her way down to the water.
This was her ritual. Had been for years now, ever since she first arrived on Captiva as a broken woman fleeing a broken life. When the weight of everything became too heavy, she walked. She let the rhythm of the waves steady her breathing, let the vastness of the ocean remind her that her problems, however large they felt, were small against the scope of the world.
The beach stretched empty in both directions, a ribbon of sand curving toward the horizon. A few sandpipers skittered along the waterline, their tiny legs moving so fast they seemed to blur. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of a man standing in the shallows, a fishing rod arced over the water. He was too far away to make out his features, just a dark shape against the brightening sky.
Maggie walked toward the north, away from the inn, away from everything familiar. Her feet left prints in the wet sand that the waves erased almost as quickly as she made them. Temporary marks on a temporary world.
Two years.
She had been cancer-free for two years now. The anniversary had passed quietly last month, marked only by a follow-up appointment with her oncologist and a private moment of gratitude so intense it had brought her to her knees.
