Chapter 21
M ark lingered by the window in his room, tracking Darlene’s path to the storage shed.
She disappeared inside, then emerged moments later, arms laden with a box.
His stomach knotted. He’d spent days finding reasons to stay in his room, postponing the inevitable conversation.
But he couldn’t put off telling her about his decision any longer.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way downstairs and pushed through the screen door onto the porch. A slight breeze coming off the bay stirred the humid air.
He caught her as she was coming up the porch steps. “Need any help?”
Darlene paused and shifted the box she was carrying to her other hip, her eyes meeting his briefly. “I’ve got it.”
“Could we talk for a minute?”
She set the box down on the porch and turned to face him, her expression carefully neutral. “Of course.”
“I spoke with Savannah again.” He shifted his weight, searching for the right words. “She convinced me to give the keynote speech at the literary festival. Says it might give a boost to my career too. Get my name out there again since I haven’t published a new book in a few years.”
“Oh.” A flash of disappointment crossed her features before she smoothed it away with a small smile. “That’s wonderful. Sarah would be proud.”
“And my agent set up some interviews for me. Trying to stir up some excitement for the new book.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” She glanced away from him, suddenly interested in the flowers lining the porch railing.
“I’ll be heading back home next week.” His words scraped against his throat, dry as beach sand. The familiar view of the bay blurred at the edges as he studied a point past her shoulder. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Of course, you need to go.” She turned and picked up the box again and squared her shoulders, her expression giving not even the tiniest hint of what she was feeling. “It’s a big opportunity.”
“Darlene—” He wanted to say more but knew there was really nothing else to say.
He’d made his choice. His wedding ring pressed cold against his finger as he curled his hand into a fist, Sarah’s memory drawing him back like the tide.
He’d chosen the familiar weight of his grief over the uncertain promise of something new.
“I really need to get back to work.” She turned away from him but paused when Felicity walked out onto the porch.
“Gran, are those the other vases you wanted to use?”
“Yes, I found them in the storage shed.”
Felicity looked at him, then Darlene. “I can take those in for you, Gran, if you two need to talk.”
“No, I’m good. Mark was just telling me that he’ll be leaving soon. Going back home.”
“Oh.” Felicity glanced at him again. “We’ll be sorry to see you go.”
“I’m sorry to leave. I’ve really enjoyed my time on the island.” He tried to slip on a convincing smile. “Well, I should go in and get back to work.” He quickly retreated inside, trying to convince himself he was just going back to work. Not running away.