EPILOGUE
Jack
Need to Know, was an international box office blockbuster, helped along by our proximity to the mysterious death of Oliver Roux.
It gave the conspiracy theorists and gutter press a lot to chew on.
But after our solitary press release on the issue we remained tight-lipped.
Suffice to say, my career was continuing on an upward trajectory.
Lucy was getting a lot of enquiries from producers and directors in the UK and the US who wanted to discuss future projects, but I’d been adamant that I needed a month off.
The gods were smiling on us on this early September morning as we drove the coastal road heading for Pembrokeshire, Wales. The heavy storms of days before had burned off, leaving us with baby blue skies, verdant green landscapes, and sea views for miles.
I was taking the pretty route to my cottage in Solva, a small vibrant fishing village on the Welsh coast where generations of my family had lived and worked.
I could feel the heat of Nate’s gaze as he looked over from the passenger seat of the Range Rover, but I couldn’t react, no matter how much I loved his distracting blue eyes on me.
Our relationship was in its early days, and I was blissfully happy.
Nate was having somewhat of a spiritual renaissance, making a lot of changes in his life.
His New York penthouse was on the market, and his divorce was expected to be finalized any day now.
Nate was officially on hiatus, so he could do whatever he wanted.
I was delighted that what he wanted to do was me!
We’d started to make plans for a future together.
The first big plan was that he’d decided he’d spend a year in the UK to travel, and work on his screenplay.
Even though I had projects lined-up we would never be more than a few hours apart.
Now we were taking the Coast Road to the village on the south side of St David’s Peninsula, the cottage called to me, as if the stone and slate could sense I was coming home.
I was desperate for Nate to see it, to walk with me on the coastal paths where I’d spent my childhood holidays, and adult escapes from the noise of the city.
I wanted us to take my taid’s fishing boat out, and let Nate row us to explore the sea caves. This holiday would be epic!
The steep-sided natural valley where Solva was built made the perfect coastal harbour and when St Brides Bay came into view my heart leaped.
The village was an important sea trading port during the 1800s and early 1900s.
At one time, you could even get a ship from the harbour that sailed to America for four quid.
Now Solva was a lure for holiday makers and shoppers.
I drove slowly along the High Street towing the Airstream.
Floral displays lined the street bustling with cafes, craft shops, and galleries.
It was early in the day, but there was still plenty of traffic.
The detached old stone fisherman’s cottage was at the far end of Lower Solva, facing the harbour.
It had its own slipway leading down to the water.
While the rest of the village was constructed from regimented lines of terraces, apparently my distant ancestor was a grumpy bastard and wanted a detached property with a boundary wall to ensure no one else could encroach on his land.
The wide gate was open when we arrived. I drove in, relived that there was just enough room for the Airstream.
I parked up, turned the engine off, and took a breath of relief.
I was home, Nate was with me, and all was well in the world.
I turned and looked at Nate, wondering what his first impression was.
“Oh my god. Jack! This is great! I love it!” he said, and leaned over to claim a kiss.
The same thing happened every time our lips met.
We couldn’t get enough of one another, and it surprised me that even though we’d kissed a thousand times in the five weeks we’d been together, it was never enough, would never be enough.
When we came up for air, the cottage door was open and Curtis Hale stood there, his blue eyes shining, the black hair dye gone to reveal his true salt and pepper mane.
“Busted!” Nate chuckled. Curtis looked well, sun-kissed, and happy.
Nate lit up when he set eyes on his dad, and in turn my heart swelled with love for my man.
We got out of the car and went to greet him.
But then a woman stepped out and linked arms with Curtis. Tears leaped to my eyes.
“Oh my god, Mom, you stayed!” Nate called delighted as he hurried to his mother.
Nate had flown Martha to London, and then had a car service drive her to Wales.
He hadn’t told her why; just that it was a surprise.
He’d left it to his parents to hash out their relationship.
To find out if there was anything left of it after such a betrayal and twelve years apart.
I was glad to see Martha was still at the cottage and appeared as in-love as her son.
Seeing Nate reunited with his parents, after all of the pain they’d gone through was life affirming.
As we approached, Martha said, “Come here my boys.” It moved me to be claimed, to be accepted as family though Nate and I were nowhere near thoughts of marriage.
And even though I’d never met Martha Hale, she looked, and felt familiar.
Martha opened her arms and we both stepped in.
****
The End