Tide Over (Northern Roots: Atlantic #1)
Chapter 1
ONE
I’m not sure what I thought I would feel when coming home, but this isn’t it.
My eyes follow the ferry as it crosses the harbour in the distance, until it disappears behind the buildings obstructing my view. But I keep staring out the window, sliding my gaze to the sailboats further down the water.
“So, what do you think?”
I nod, watching the boats as they lazily make their way around the harbour. “It’s nice.” But as my gaze drops to the busy street below, and I watch the morning rush towards downtown Halifax just a few streets over, disappointment settles. “You don’t have anything a little less… central, do you?” I ask, turning to face the owner of this apartment.
She stands in the doorway of the empty bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as she shakes her head sadly. “No, sorry. This is my only available unit.”
I nod, returning my attention to the harbour. “That’s alright.”
“If you like this one though, I can give you an application,” she says. “I have a couple more showings this afternoon, but it’s first come, first serve for qualified applicants.”
The muffled sounds of the traffic and chatter from people on the street below fill the empty space, and I tear my gaze away from the sailboats to glance around the room. It’s a decent-sized one-bedroom apartment, on the top floor of an older home with only two other units in it. And even though it’s close to downtown, the building itself seems quiet. The price is a bit much, but everywhere in Halifax is expensive these days, so I guess that doesn’t really matter.
“Yeah.” I offer her a small smile. “Sounds good.”
“Excellent.” She beams as she opens a folder and hands me a piece of paper. “It’s pretty straightforward. Current and last address, work information… the usual.”
My eyes skirt over the application in my hands. “I don’t have a current address. I just got into Nova Scotia this morning.”
“Oh, that’s fine.” She waves her hand in the air. “Just your last address. Where are you moving from?”
“Alberta,” I say, glancing up at her.
She chuckles. “Usually it’s Nova Scotians moving to Alberta, not the other way around.”
I release a breath of laughter. “Yeah, I did that already. Moved out there to work in the oil sands, just like everyone else. Now…” I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. “It was just time to leave.”
She observes me with a soft nod.“I know a few people out west living that life,” she says. “Most of them would love to move back to their hometown. Good for you.”
A knot tightens in my stomach, and I swallow thickly as uneasiness settles within me at the simple thought of my hometown. “I’m actually from Cape Breton.”
Her eyes light up. “I’m a Caper too! Grew up in Baddeck. Where abouts are you from?”
“Inverness,” I reply, a feeling of comfort and familiarity trying to push its way in. I’ve lived in Calgary, Alberta, for ten years, and as friendly as it can be there, it’s nothing like the immediate connection you find with someone in Nova Scotia. Especially when they find even the slightest similarity to bond over, like being from the same large island.
“Oh, I love Inverness,” she says. “Such a beautiful place. I bet you’re happy that visiting will be much easier now.”
My eyes drop to the application in my hands as that comfortable feeling is quickly snuffed out. I nod, pressing my lips together for a moment before holding up the piece of paper. “So, I just fill this out and bring it back to you?”
There’s a beat of silence as her brow furrows slightly, then she smiles softly with a nod. “Or you can just snap a photo and email it. Either works.”
“Ok.” I roll up the paper and hold my hand out. “Thanks for showing me this place on such short notice.” Considering I just got into town this morning, and didn’t yet have a plan for where I was going to live, I do appreciate that she was able to squeeze me in right away. I figured it would be a few days until I was able to see anything.
She reaches out to shake my hand. “No problem at all.”
As I step out of the house and onto the sidewalk, I take a deep breath of the cool, saltwater air. I’ve come back to Nova Scotia regularly to visit my family since moving away, but breathing in this air now, knowing I am actually home … I’m afraid to admit I’ve missed it. It almost feels like it cheapens my last ten years living in Calgary, and everything I loved about my life there.Even though that life doesn’t exist there anymore, and everything has changed.
I look up at the old, colourful houses that line the street as I walk towards my truck, each one holding so much character and history. This city is warm, vibrant, inviting and friendly, and it’s everything I’ve always wanted. Growing up in such a small town in Inverness, I couldn’t wait to move to Halifax. Whenever I came here with my parents when I was little, I loved looking at these houses and dreamed of living in one someday, close to downtown, and being a part of everything big and important. And when I ended up in Calgary instead, I thought that was even better.
Was I ever wrong.
Once I reach my truck, I get in and immediately roll the window down, once again taking a deep breath of the fresh air as I lay my head back against the seat and close my eyes. But it’s not hope, relief or happiness that fills me. Instead, heaviness settles into my chest and the knot in my stomach tightens even more.
This is all wrong.
I wasn’t the only one who wanted to live here.
And now I’m here, alone.
As my eyes open and land on the colourful houses once more, my heart beats faster and dread flows through me. The noise of the busy street seems to grow louder as the passing traffic and happy chatter from people on the sidewalk echoes in my head so loudly it’s almost painful.
I tightly close my eyes again and rub a hand over my face. “Fuck,” I mutter, leaning forward to press my forehead against the steering wheel.
Then I look down at the rental application in my hand, crumple it up into a ball, and let it fall to my feet.
I can’t do this. I don’t deserve it. Not after the mistake I’ve made that cost me everything.
Without another thought, I put my truck in drive and find myself back on the highway. I have no idea where I’m going, but I know I can’t stay in Halifax.
I should go home.
I should go to Inverness. I should see my parents. But I can’t bring myself to do it. They don’t even know yet that I left Calgary and quit my job in the oil sands. Because if they found out where I was going to work now, I don’t know how well they would take it.
The weight in my chest grows heavier as Halifax disappears behind me, and the pain and guilt I carry every day surges to the surface. I deserve these feelings… but I’m also desperate to escape them. I don’t know where I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be doing, or how to outrun this pain.
The exit for South Shore comes into view, and a voice somewhere inside me urges me to take it. I just drove across Canada, barely stopping the entire way here with a desperate need to get away from the reminders of my mistakes and the loss that broke me.
But I somehow ended up in Nova Scotia. Where the good memories of my childhood and my family, and the reminders of everything I could have had, hurts just as much.
I need to keep running.
Before I know it, I’m taking the exit to South Shore. And I keep driving in the complete opposite direction of home, taking myself further and further away from everything and everyone I know I should be facing.
I just can’t do it yet.