Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marie
This morning had been a dream. Wade had taken me to see the girls after breakfast, and seeing them healthier, brighter, and actually laughing, had filled everything I was missing.
They were healing. We all were.
Now I was sitting on Wade's deck in one of my pink dresses, short and spaghetti-strapped because it was hot, finally wearing clothes that actually felt like me.
The fabric was soft, and the color made me feel more like myself than I had in ages. My feet and Manchineel burn were still bandaged, but Sylvia said they were healing well. Another week, maybe two, and I'd be free of the wrappings entirely.
Wade sat behind me on the lounger, his chest against my back, and I could feel the warmth of him seeping into my skin even through the dress. His hands were currently occupied with rubbing sunscreen into my shoulders, his fingers working the lotion in with strokes that felt like worship.
"Arms, darling," and I lifted them obediently so he could work the sunscreen down to my elbows, then my forearms, all the way to my fingers. He was thorough, almost obsessively so, at making sure every inch of my skin was covered.
"You're very dedicated to this," I observed, amusement coloring my voice as his hands moved to my legs, starting at my ankles and working up my skin.
"You’ll burn," he replied simply, palms sliding up my calves. "And I'm not having my little darling in pain because she got too much sun. So yes, I'm dedicated."
His hands moved higher, over my knees to my thighs, and he pushed the hem of my dress up slightly to make sure he got every inch. His fingers were warm and sure against my skin, and I had to resist the urge to squirm at how good it felt.
“Sit up,” he instructed, and I straightened my back. His hands moved, working sunscreen down my spine in long strokes that made me want to melt into him completely. "Your father and Honey should be here soon."
"I know." I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice. "I can't wait to show him everything. The view, the beach, the estate. He's going to lose his mind."
"And Honey?" His hands slid lower, to the small of my back, and I felt him smile against my hair.
"Honey's going to go absolutely nuts," I grinned at the thought. "She's never been to a private beach before. She's going to run herself into exhaustion, and then she's going to shed all over your fancy furniture."
"Small price to pay." His hands finished just above my bottom, and then he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "There. All protected."
I turned back around to face the ocean, settling against his chest and breathing in the salty air that I'd been dreaming about. This view, this feeling, this safety, it was everything I'd thought I'd lost.
And then I heard that familiar, excited bark, my entire body surging with recognition.
"Honey!" I was up before I could think, excitement taking over completely. I hurried off the deck and into the sand, careful of my feet but too excited to care about the slight prickle, and saw her.
My girl. My Honey.
She was big and hyper, running toward me with the same boundless energy she'd had as a puppy. Eight years old and still acting like she was two, her tail wagging so hard her whole back end was wiggling.
I dropped to my knees in the sand, and she crashed into me with enough force to almost knock me over. I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her fur as she whined and licked every inch of my face.
"Hi, baby," I cooed, holding her tight. "Hi, Honey. I missed you so much. So, so much."
She was wiggly and warm in my arms, her whole body vibrating with excitement. She kept trying to climb into my lap despite being way too big, licking at face, and making those happy whining sounds that said she remembered me. That she'd never forgotten.
And then Papa was there, kneeling beside us in the sand, his arms wrapping around both Honey and me. I'd missed this. I’d missed him so much.
"My baby girl," he breathed, his voice thick with tears. "My Marie. You’re really here.”
"I am, Papa," I managed, one arm around Honey and reaching the other to hold him. "I'm here, I’m safe, and I'm not going anywhere."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands cupping my face the way Wade did, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I still can't believe you're here. That I get to see you again."
"I'm here," I repeated, because I didn't have better words. "And Papa, look at this place. Look at where I've been staying."
I gestured back at the estate, at the huge white structure overlooking the private beach, the infinity pool, the deck, and the glass walls that transformed the entire building into a masterpiece. "This is Wade's home. This is where I've been healing."
Papa’s eyes went wide as he took it in properly. "Marie, this is one of those houses we used to look at from the boat."
"I know!" Excitement bubbled up again. “It's even better inside. He has a chef and staff, and all the rooms have an ocean view that’s insane. You have to see it. And the beach is private, which means Honey can run around as much as she wants without bothering anyone.”
As if on cue, Honey took off running down the beach, barking joyfully, and I laughed watching her spray sand everywhere.
"She's got so much energy,” Papa said, smiling through his tears. "Still acts like a puppy."
"She's adorable,” I smiled, watching her run back toward us. "Papa, come into the water with me? I want to play with Honey and be here with you."
"The salt water will help your feet, too.” He stood and offered me his hand. “Salt helps wounds heal faster. Your mama used to swear by it."
The mention of my mother made my chest tight, but it was a good ache. A reminder that she'd loved me, that she'd taught my father things he could now teach me.
I took his hand and let him pull me up, then we both walked toward the water, where Honey was already splashing in the shallows.
The ocean was warm, and I waded in until it was up to my knees, laughing as Honey bounded around me in circles. Papa waded in beside me, and for a moment we just stood there, father, daughter, and dog in the crystal blue water with the sun warming our skin.
"I thought I'd lost you," Papa breathed quietly, and I heard all five years of grief in those words. "Every day, Marie. Every single day, I wondered if you were suffering, if you were scared.” He stopped, unable to finish.
"I was," I admitted, because he deserved honesty. "But I survived, and now I'm here, I'm safe, and Wade…” I looked back at the deck where Wade was sitting, watching us, ready to step in the moment I needed anything. “Wade makes me feel like I can heal from this. I deserve to be happy again."
"Do you love him?" Papa asked, following my gaze.
It shocked me how fast I knew the answer. “It’s fast and definitely crazy, but yes, I think I do love him."
Papa was quiet for a little while, watching Wade watch us. "He looks at you like you're the most important thing in his world."
"He makes me feel like I am." I bent down to splash water at Honey, who immediately retaliated by shaking herself all over me. “I think I'm going to stay here with him for as long as he'll have me."
"Then I'm glad.” Papa pulled me into another hug. "I'm glad you found someone who takes care of you, who makes you smile like this. Your mama would have loved him."
We played in the water for a while longer, talking about everything and nothing—Papa catching me up on extended family drama, me skirting around details of where I'd been while still being honest that it had been hard.
Honey stayed right by my side the entire time, pressed against my legs in the water like she was afraid I'd disappear if she stopped touching me.
I was sure I didn't want to leave the ocean. I didn't want to go back to the deck or the estate or anywhere that wasn't right here. This felt like healing in the most fundamental way, surrounded by saltwater, family, and the sound of waves that had been the soundtrack of my childhood.
Movement caught my eye, and I looked up to see Wade walking into the water toward us, still fully dressed in his linen pants and button-up shirt, holding a small silver tray above the waves. He waded in until he was standing beside us, completely unbothered by getting his expensive clothes wet.
“I thought you might be hungry," he offered the tray. On it were neat little sandwiches, different varieties cut into triangles, prepared by his chef. "And I have something special for Honey."
He picked up what looked like a peanut butter sandwich and held it out toward Honey, who immediately abandoned my side to take it from his hand. She devoured it in three bites, her tail wagging so hard water sprayed everywhere, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"You made Honey a sandwich," I laughed, warm tenderness spreading through me at the gesture.
"The chef did," Wade corrected, but his small smile said he'd specifically requested it. "Peanut butter, no crusts. Apparently, that's the preferred preparation for fancy golden retrievers."
Papa took one of the sandwiches, studied Wade for a moment, then nodded like something had been confirmed. "You're good for her. I can see that."
"I try to be," Wade replied, and something passed between them, some understanding that I wasn't quite privy to but felt the weight of anyway.
We finished our sandwiches, then waded back toward shore. Papa spoke first, "I should head out and let you rest, but I'll be back tomorrow, baby girl. Every day if you'll have me."
"Every day," I promised, following him to give him one more long hug on the beach. “Thank you for never giving up on me."
"Never," he promised, holding me tight. "Not for a single day."
He whistled for Honey, and she looked up from where she'd been sniffing around Wade's feet, then at me, then back at Papa, and whined. A long, plaintive sound that clearly said she had no intention of leaving.