Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
O ddly, it wasn’t hard keeping the secret.
Not really. Not when the days blurred together in a flurry of coffee runs, tile samples, and long afternoons covered in broken tiles and sawdust. He and Faye were constantly juggling work at the shop, renovations on the house, and the slow, steady deepening of what they were building between them.
He hadn’t tried to shove the necklace to the back of his mind, but with so much happening, it had been surprisingly easy.
That was, until two days before Max and Juliette were due to return home.
He’d stopped by the Brew-Ha-Ha on his break and was helping Faye restock some inventory when her phone rang.
He caught the sudden change in her face as she listened to the caller and knew something was up.
She glanced at him and gave him a cautious nod.
He listened to her side of the conversation as she said, “Yes, of course,” followed by a “tonight?” that made his stomach knot.
After she hung up, she gave him the news: someone from the state historical society was coming to confirm the authenticity of the necklace—and more importantly, the diamond.
Nate had nodded and tried to remain calm on the surface, but excitement was already creeping under his skin. He didn’t like strangers coming in, asking questions—especially not ones who might have the power to take the Ocean’s Heart away from them.
So he made a call of his own.
“Would you and Mom want to come over for dinner tonight?” he asked his dad. “We’re having company, and I could use a second pair of eyes on things. Just in case.”
Juliette and Max had shared the news with his parents the day after they’d found the diamond. They had yet to see the real thing, but Faye had shared a bunch of photos of their little adventure, as well as close-ups of the diamond and the necklace.
His dad hadn’t even hesitated. “We’ll be there.”
An hour before the assessor was due to arrive, Nate stood at the stove sautéing garlic in a skillet.
The smell of rosemary and lemon from a roast chicken filled the kitchen.
Faye was behind him, chopping vegetables and humming softly to the Fleetwood Mac song playing on the speaker.
She looked relaxed, maybe even excited, but he could feel the quiet tension under the surface—both of them knew this night might change everything.
“You okay?” he asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” she said, and then, after a pause, “Nervous, but okay. I mean, what if it isn’t real?”
He set down the spatula and turned to face her, leaning on the counter. “It is real. That’s not the part that worries me.”
She looked up, brow furrowed. “Then what does?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “What they’ll want to do with it. I mean, what if they say it belongs in a museum and they take it away from Max and Juliette? Or that it’s some kind of state treasure and needs to be confiscated?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Her mouth opened, then closed. “You think they’d actually do that?”
“I don’t know. But I want my dad here in case anyone tries anything sketchy.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus, tonight gives you a second shot at impressing my folks.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me. At least this time I’m not going to almost pass out during dinner.”
“Low bar, but I think you’ve got it.” He winked at her.
The doorbell rang.
They both froze for a second, then Faye wiped her hands on a towel and walked toward the front of the house. Nate followed, his fingers unconsciously brushing against the pouch now nestled in his pocket.
When the door opened, his dad stood there—tall, broad, and relaxed, with that calm confidence that Nate had always admired. His mother stood beside him with a warm smile and a bouquet of wildflowers for Faye.
“Dinner smells amazing,” she said, stepping in and giving Faye a quick hug. “And I’m glad to see you upright this time,” she added, handing her the flowers.
Faye blushed. “I made dessert to make up for the trouble I caused last time.”
“You are never any trouble,” his mother said, touching her arm. “Truly.” Then she turned to him. “Now, before this assessor arrives, show me the diamond.” His mother rubbed her hands together.
Nate exchanged a glance with Faye, then pulled the small silk pouch from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened it slowly, her fingers gentle as she lifted the necklace into the light.
The diamond caught the rays from the kitchen light and cast tiny glimmers across the wall like stars.
“Oh my,” his mother whispered, her hand drifting to her heart. Her eyes widened, then to Nate’s surprise, started to fill with tears. “To think it’s been hidden under the lighthouse all these years. Those two really did love each other very much to give up so much.”
She took a step closer, studying the delicate silver chain, the intricate old-world setting, and the bright gleam of the gem at its center.
His dad walked up beside her and gently placed his hand on her back. “You’re thinking about all the stories of the diamond, aren’t you?”
Eva nodded without taking her eyes from the necklace.
“Everyone used to tell stories about the lighthouse widow and her lost love, the sailor. And of a love strong enough that it leaves its mark behind, whether people believe it or not. This is proof it can happen.”
His parents held onto each other.
His mother looked over at him. “Finding this… it’s like something sacred. Like it waited until the right two people came along to finish its story.”
Faye’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she looked down at the necklace in her hands. Nate reached over and took her free hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
His father nodded toward the table. “Let’s sit and eat. You don’t want this guy showing up and catching you mid-breakdown over jewelry,” he teased gently, and the tension broke into soft laughter.
They moved into the dining room. Nate lit a few candles for ambiance—mostly for his mom, who loved a well-set table—and they passed dishes around, letting the conversation shift to easier topics: the weather, their renovation progress, the rumors around town about who was dating who, and the upcoming music festival the mayor was planning for the fall.
But even as he laughed and talked, Nate’s mind kept drifting toward the necklace and its meaning.
It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry.
It was a promise from the past.
A secret whispered through time.
And tonight, someone else was coming to try and unlock its truth.
He dreamed that someday he could give something equal to Faye to prove how he felt toward her. How much he had grown to love her.
When the doorbell rang an hour later, Faye’s hand found his under the table.
Nate felt his stomach twist just slightly as he opened the door a second time that night.
A tall, silver-haired man in a linen suit stood on the porch. His glasses glinted in the evening light, and a leather satchel was slung over one shoulder.
He held out a hand to Nate. “Good evening. I’m Dr. Callum Marsh. I believe you have something rather extraordinary to show me.”
Nate stepped aside to let the man in, and as he did, he glanced back at his dad—who met his eyes with a steady nod.
Dr. Marsh looked exactly how Nate imagined a historian-slash-gemologist might: tall and wiry, with slightly wild gray hair. He carried a reinforced case and wore thin-framed glasses perched low on his nose. His eyes scanned the room with a mix of academic excitement and professional detachment.
“Right this way,” Nate said, leading him toward the now cleaned dining table, where Faye had already laid out the silk pouch containing the necklace.
Dr. Marsh set his case down with quiet reverence.
He opened it to reveal a portable light source, a loupe, gloves, and a few instruments Nate didn’t recognize.
As he pulled on the gloves, he cleared his throat.
“I’ve only seen sketches and paintings of this necklace before.
If this is what I suspect, it’s a once-in-a-century kind of find. ”
Dr. Marsh carefully opened the pouch, exposing the necklace.
The man held it beneath his light, adjusted his loupe, and studied it in silence.
Minutes passed, the only sounds in the room the tick of the clock on the wall and the occasional sounds from the notes he scribbled in a small leather-bound notebook.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low with awe.
“It’s real. Every bit of it. The craftsmanship places the necklace in the late 1800s—silver platinum interwoven filigree work specific to Northern Europe. And this”—he turned slightly, angling the diamond toward the light—“is the one and only Ocean’s Heart.”
Nate felt the slow breath leave his chest. He looked at Faye, whose eyes were wide and shimmering with excitement. His mother clasped her hands together, tears welling again in her eyes. His father stood a little straighter, as if he was proud.
“The diamond is flawless,” Dr. Marsh continued, still rotating the pendant gently.
“It has a slight hint of blue.” He glanced up at Nate.
“Which is where the name Ocean’s Heart came from.
It’s very rare. Most likely from the Kashmir region, cut and set into this necklace sometime between 1880 and 1895.
It would’ve been intended as a betrothal piece. ”
“That lines up with the letters,” Faye said softly.
“It does?” Dr. Marsh looked at her now. “What letters?”
“We found letters when we remodeled this place,” Nate answered. “Love letters from Karnia Bergman, who was at the time the third in line to the Swedish throne. She was the recipient of the necklace, given to her by an English Earl.”
“Do you have those letters?” Dr. Marsh asked.
“My brother has them,” Faye answered. “We found a few more, but Max wants them looked at first. They’re more delicate than the others.”
They had agreed to keep the letters they’d discovered in the box with the necklace in the safe until someone with more experience could look at them. Some of the pages were so damp, they were too fragile to touch.
“It’s a remarkable story—one I imagine the world will be quite eager to hear,” his mother chimed in.
“When the time is right for Max and Juliette to share it,” his father added firmly.
The man placed the necklace carefully back into the silk pouch, removed his gloves, and reached into his coat pocket for a card. “Please give this to Mr. Wilson when he returns home. I would strongly advise that he contacts me so we can schedule a full appraisal for insurance purposes.”
He glanced at Nate and added, “There are several institutions—European museums, mostly—that would be very interested in exhibiting the necklace on a short-term loan. Historically speaking, it’s priceless.”
“Do we need to do anything now?” Nate asked, still trying to wrap his head around it all.
Dr. Marsh closed his case and shook his head.
“Nothing other than to ensure her safety. Be sure to lock her up somewhere tight. I can’t in good conscience sit on this discovery for long.
Word will get out eventually. I’d recommend Mr. Wilson prepare a press release for the day he returns from Europe.
Something simple, respectful. In fitting with the beauty of the piece and its history.
The moment it’s public, there will be attention—some of it scholarly, some of it less so.
” He frowned slightly before clearing his throat.
“Understood,” Nate said, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Marsh.”
“My pleasure. Finds like this—legends made real—they don’t come around often. Protect it well,” he added with a nod.
With that, the man slipped out the front door, his dress shoes echoing softly down the porch steps.
The silence left in his wake was filled with unspoken questions.
His mother was the first to break it. “Well, this calls for a toast.” She walked over to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne.
Nate laughed and walked over to the cabinet to grab some glasses. As his father poured them each a glass, his gaze landed on Faye again. She was still staring at the pouch on the table, as if she was unable to process what had just happened.
He handed her a glass. “Are you okay?”
She nodded slowly. “I think so. It just feels bigger than us.”
He smiled and then surprised her by pulling her into his arms and kissing her right in front of his parents.