He wasn’t quite sure she deserved a reprieve, but if her finding her own happiness meant he was free to do the same, it was a worthy sacrifice.
It took a week for Fredric to feel comfortable venturing beyond the straight path from the railed walkway to the ocean. The idea of being alone—utterly and completely—was almost suffocating, though he felt a measure of relief the first time the gentle surge of the Atlantic washed over his bare feet.
He’d always prided himself on his independence, which was borne out of a need to free himself from his wife’s strong grip, but it wasn’t until burning the bridge behind him as he left his old life that he realized he’d only transferred his dependence to others. His assistant at work, his daughter, his son, his partner at the office.
The walk to the beach was the first step to true independence. The week of training Sebastian to find his way back to the house had been the most anxiety Fredric had felt in a damn long time, but when he spun in a circle and then picked a random direction to walk—knowing he’d get home without having to panic call for help—was worth it.
He knew the house had been a good choice. The neighbors were few and far between, and a long stretch of beach had no signs of other people for miles. His grip on the harness loosened after a few paces, and he turned his face up toward the sky, enjoying the way the wind whipped at him the sun warmed him to his core.
As they walked, Fredric noticed his dog stiffen for a second and lean slightly to the left, which meant there was a person coming at him. Before he could begin to wonder, a familiar voice called across the distance, just over the waves.
“I haven’t seen you all week!”
Fredric smiled at the sound of Agatha’s voice. She’d been by the morning he was unpacking, and he told her to give him time. He’d braced himself for offense, for her to be angry, but she’d agreed readily and then put her number in his phone and told him she’d let him make the call.
He wasn’t sure what to do with the kindness. It terrified him to trust a total stranger, and yet his gut was telling him that this was what he was looking for. Not just being hundreds of miles away from his past and his ex, but also from his never-ending self-doubt.
“Out for a morning walk?” he asked.
“Run,” she corrected. “I broke my ankle a couple years ago and started running on the sand to regain some of the muscle I lost. I got kind of addicted. Your dog’s on the harness—I shouldn’t pet him.” She said it half like a question, and Fredric wasn’t sure if she meant it that way.
“I have to keep him really focused since this area is so new. And it’s my first week without having a PA at my beck and call,” he admitted, feeling like an asshole for it, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “So far he’s doing well.”
Agatha made a humming sound. “Can I walk back with you?”
Fredric was surprised by the offer, and he half considered turning her down because he wanted to know he could do this alone. But he liked her. She was nothing like the people he’d known, nothing like his children or any of their friends.
“Of course, you can.” He turned and gave Bas the command to head toward the railing, and they started on a slow path home. “How was your run?”
“It was good. I try to get in as many beach runs as I can before the weather turns hot,” she said. “I grew up in Texas, so this is kind of nice compared to that, but I hate summer.”
Fredric wrinkled his nose. “Not much of a fan myself. But I think I’ll enjoy it this year a bit more.”
“Because you’re divorced?” she asked, and he blinked in surprise, because he wasn’t quite expecting her to just say it like that. But god, it was refreshing.
“I haven’t been on my own since I was seventeen. I got married young, had kids young. Then I had a stroke.”
“Is that why you’re blind?”
He smiled at the way she didn’t tiptoe around anything. “It is. I was in my twenties—it was…unexpected.” Bas slowed down, and he felt the way the sand started to shift under his feet—dry from where the high tide never reached—that they were getting close to the railing. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
“No,” she said. “I have to shower and then get to work. I promised myself I wouldn’t ask about dinner again, but…”
“Tonight,” Fredric said with a grin. “Let’s do it tonight.”
Agatha let out a small laugh. “Okay. I’m going to tell Teddy it was your idea, otherwise he’s going to bitch at me for not letting it go.”
And the phrase was simple—and it was silly, and even her tone was playful, but Fredric felt himself stiffen. He went cold inside—only for a second, because he was still walking on eggshells for a woman who wasn’t around anymore and the idea that Agatha had done the same for a lover was too much.
And then…it wasn’t. Then, he could breathe again.
“You just went pale,” Agatha said.
“I know. I’m…” he hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m working on a few things. Agatha, can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” she answered, and he felt the heat off her—smelled the sweat—as she stepped closer.
“Does Teddy make you happy?”
She sighed. “No, but I don’t want him to make me happy. That idea just puts so much pressure on a relationship, and I don’t…I don’t want us to fail.”
“So, what does he do for you?”
“He lets me find my happy,” she told him, and the simplicity of it—the sheer grace and beauty of a concept he’d never even dared to think about, hit him in the sternum. “And I find it a lot. And when I don’t, he helps me find comfort.”
“Thank you,” he said, and his voice was rough, but he was glad she didn’t ask him to elaborate. He waited to hear the shuffle of her feet in the direction of her house before he gave Bas the command to go back in, and he didn’t take a full breath until the door was closed behind him and he’d released his dog from the harness.
He couldn’t remember if he’d locked the gate behind him, but he knew Bas wouldn’t wander off. He trusted him to stay close, and he was trusting himself in this new routine to get him from point A to point B.
He lets me find my happy.
The words echoed as he got water, as he pressed his palm to the counter, feeling the early morning chill in the smooth stone.
He helps me find comfort.
It was a foreign concept, but it awakened a need in him he wasn’t expecting, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He’d only been divorced ten months, and it had only been a few weeks since leaving the only world he’d known for most of his life.
But he wanted it—he wanted what she had. He wanted to reach out and know that the person he loved was reaching back. He wanted to meet in the middle and whisper secrets and know that everything fragile and delicate about him was safe. He wanted to explore the parts of him that had been neglected for as long as he could remember, and he wanted to let himself hope that those abandoned pieces could still be found. And nurtured. And were worthy of love.