Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

S cott turned down the familiar path to Miss Doris’s house, a freshly crafted drying rack balanced in his hands. It was one of his favorite projects. The sturdy but elegant piece was made of polished cedar, its natural grain shining through. Miss Doris had mentioned needing a new one weeks ago, and Scott had carved out the time to finish it.

He hoped the elderly woman would like it. And it would be enough to bargain for her help in adding the finishing touches to the big picnic he had planned. The big night was almost here. The night that he hoped would change his life forever.

As he approached Miss Doris’s beachfront house, Scott slowed his pace. The salty tang of the ocean breeze carried the faintest hint of winter’s chill, cutting through the otherwise mild air. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore formed a soothing backdrop, but it did little to calm the unease settling in his chest.

Miss Doris’s cottage always exuded warmth, with its cheerful wreath on the door and strings of soft white lights framing the windows. Even now, as the wind tugged at the edges of his jacket, the glow spilling from her windows felt inviting.

Scott stepped carefully onto the wooden path leading to her porch, the damp sand beneath his boots muffling his steps. Just as he neared the railing, a sound drifted through the barely cracked kitchen window. It was a familiar voice. Megan’s.

“It’s everything I’ve been working toward,” Megan was saying. “It’s a chance for me to rebuild my career. To give Ruby the financially secure future she deserves. But…” Her voice faltered.

“But you’ve both began to make a home here, haven’t you?” Miss Doris said.

“We have, but I don’t know if staying here is practical in the long run.”

Scott froze in place, the drying rack feeling heavier in his grip. He strained to hear more, his chest tightening at the uncertainty in her tone.

Miss Doris’s kind, steady voice followed. “It’s a big decision, dear. Remember, practicality isn’t the only thing that matters. Follow your heart. Just make sure it’s what’s truly best for you and Ruby.”

There was a pause, and Scott imagined Megan sitting there, her hands wrapped around one of Miss Doris’s delicate tea cups, her brows knit with worry. He knew that look. He’d seen it many times in the last few weeks, a quiet conflict brewing beneath her calm exterior.

“Ruby’s happiness is everything to me,” Megan said after a moment. “But I have to think about the future. About what’s stable, what’s secure. To practice law here, I’d have to pass the South Carolina bar exam. That takes time and money.”

“I’m sure we could find a way to make that happen,” Miss Doris said, her voice confident.

“Maybe.” Megan’s tone was more hesitant.

Scott’s chest ached as he processed her words. It wasn’t a definitive decision, but it was clear Megan was weighing her options, leaning toward the logical, practical choice of leaving.

He stepped back instinctively, careful not to make a sound. The idea of interrupting, of facing Megan in that moment, felt impossible. What could he say that wouldn’t complicate things further?

Quietly, Scott set the drying rack against the porch railing, his movements deliberate, almost mechanical.

Miss Doris’s words echoed in his mind: Follow your heart.

Scott wanted to tell Megan that she didn’t have to leave, that what they’d started here—on this island, in the quiet corners of Santa’s Village, and during those fleeting, meaningful moments—could be her fresh start. But as he stood there, the weight of her practicality loomed over him.

He glanced once more toward the window, hearing Megan’s muffled voice continue, though the words were no longer distinct. With a final deep breath, he turned and walked back down the path, his boots crunching softly against the gravel.

The island breeze picked up slightly as Scott made his way to his truck. He looked out at the distant water, its calm surface contradicting the storm brewing in his chest. Megan’s uncertainty felt like a door slowly closing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what he did, her decision might already be made.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Scott started the engine and drove off, his heart heavier than it had been in years.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of sawdust and silence. Scott buried himself in his work, retreating to the familiar rhythm of his workshop. The steady hum of tools, the sharp scent of freshly cut wood, and the feel of rough sandpaper under his hands offered some solace, but not enough to quiet the storm of thoughts in his head.

He had started a small chest for a longtime client to stay busy—but his mind kept circling back to Megan. The words he’d overheard at Miss Doris’s house haunted him.

“It’s a chance for me to rebuild my career. To give Ruby the financially secure future she deserves.”

Scott had stopped by Miss Doris’s to deliver a simple drying rack and ask a favor. Instead, he’d left with a hollow ache in his chest. It wasn’t as though Megan had definitively said she was leaving, but her words made it clear she was leaning that way. And why wouldn’t she? San Diego offered security, a steady paycheck, and the chance to rebuild the life she’d lost. What could Palmar Island offer her in comparison?

Scott shook his head, focusing on the dovetail joint he was working on. He carefully fit two pieces of wood together, testing their alignment before applying the glue. It was a task he’d done countless times, but today, even his hands felt heavy.

By the time the sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows across his workbench, he knew he needed to step away. He cleaned his tools with deliberate care, putting everything back in its place before grabbing his phone off the corner of the bench.

It buzzed in his hand just as he picked it up. Kara’s name flashed on the screen. He hesitated briefly before answering.

“Hey, Kara,” he said, keeping his voice even.

“Hey, big brother,” Kara replied, her tone warm but immediately curious. “You sound off. What’s going on?”

Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sank onto the stool by the workbench. “It’s nothing. Just busy.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, her laugh soft but knowing. “You can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long. Spill it.”

He hesitated. Kara had always been the one to draw things out of him, no matter how much he tried to keep his feelings bottled up. “It’s Megan,” he said. “I think she’s taking the job. In San Diego.”

Kara was silent for a beat. “Oh,” she said, her voice softer now. “And how do you feel about that?”

Scott let out a bitter chuckle, leaning back and staring at the exposed beams of the workshop ceiling. “How do you think? She’s choosing stability, a future for Ruby. I can’t fault her for that. But it feels like whatever this thing between us is—it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

“You don’t know that,” Kara said gently.

“Don’t I?” Scott countered, his tone sharper than he intended. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “She’s practical, Kara. She’s been through a lot. It makes sense for her to want what’s safe and secure. Palmar Island doesn’t exactly scream opportunity.”

“Maybe not,” Kara said, “but Palmar Island has you . And don’t roll your eyes, Scott—I can feel you doing it from here.”

Despite himself, Scott smiled faintly. “I don’t want to pressure her,” he said, his voice quieter now. “She’s been through enough without me adding to it.”

“It’s not pressure,” Kara insisted. “It’s honesty. She deserves to know how you feel, Scott. If she leaves without knowing, can you live with that?”

Scott didn’t answer right away. The question hung between them, heavy and unavoidable.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “What if I tell her and it makes things worse?”

“What if you don’t, and it means missing out on something amazing?” Kara countered. Her tone softened. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. But if you care about her, really care about her, you owe it to both of you to be honest. Even if it doesn’t go the way you want.”

Scott closed his eyes, his hand tightening around the phone. He didn’t want to admit it, but Kara was right.

“Thanks, sis,” he said after a moment, his voice low but sincere.

“Anytime,” she replied. “And Scott? Don’t overthink it. Just be yourself. That’s always been more than enough.”

After they hung up, Scott sat in silence, staring at the half-finished bookshelf on his workbench. He picked up a piece of sandpaper, running it over the wood in slow, deliberate strokes, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Kara’s words replayed in his mind, mingling with the sound of Megan’s voice.

To give Ruby the financially secure future she deserves.

He set the sandpaper down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bench. For so long, he’d convinced himself that what he and Megan had was fragile, something that could easily be brushed aside if the right opportunity came along. But what if he was wrong? What if it was worth fighting for?

“If I don’t tell her how I feel,” he said aloud, his voice steady but quiet, “I’ll regret it forever.”

The realization settled over him like a weight lifting. Megan deserved to know. Even if she chose San Diego, at least he wouldn’t have left anything unsaid.

And maybe he could even his odds. Give her a path to the financial security she needed.

He picked up the phone and scrolled through his contacts.

“James Winter Law Firm, how can I direct your call?” a friendly voice asked.