The rich aroma of coffee and bacon stirred me awake, even before the sun peeked through the curtains.
As I sluggishly made my way downstairs, I spotted Mom in the kitchen, softly humming while she flipped pancakes. Sunshine poured in through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the marble countertops. Everything looked flawless in that golden light—almost too flawless.
But it didn't truly belong to us.
This was his family's home, and every little detail carried echoes of the life that had unfolded here long before we arrived.
"Good morning, sweetheart!" Mom beamed while serving up a hearty stack of pancakes. "You hungry?"
I took a seat at the island, wrapping my hands around the steaming mug she offered me. "Absolutely starving," I replied, though my stomach felt too knotted to really feel it.
The sound of the front door creaking open broke the silence, and I turned just in time to catch a glimpse of him—headphones in, a dark shirt clinging to his frame—striding down the driveway with purpose. He didn't even look our way.
Then, in an instant, he was off, long legs carrying him swiftly down the road that led to the coast.
"He does that every morning," Mom said, watching him leave. "He runs all the way to Driftwood Beach. It's not too far—about a fifteen-minute walk. Half that with his speed."
I raised an eyebrow. "He runs for fun?"
"For peace," she corrected gently. "I think it's his way of dealing with things."
"Right," I murmured under my breath. "If coping means avoiding everyone."
She shot me a glance but held back any reprimand. "He's not as rough as he seems." Then she paused, dropping her voice a little.
"He's just… having a tough time," she added, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"His mom passed not too long ago, and this house—it's filled with her memories. Every nook and cranny. I can't imagine how hard it is for him to share it."
Her words hung heavily between us.
I poked my fork into the stack of pancakes, then finally asked the question I'd been keeping inside since last night. "When's his dad getting here?"
Mom's smile wavered. "Later this week. He had some work commitments back in the city."
I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "And he's okay with us being here without him?"
"Of course," she replied a tad too quickly.
"Mom, is everything alright between you and Dane?" I inquired, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
"I know I've been away a lot, and I'm sorry. I've just been trying to focus on finishing college finally," I added.
"Raine, it's fine. We're good. Just a small disagreement before I came down here, that's all," she said, her gaze dropping.
"About what?" I pressed.
Noticing her hesitation, I took her hands, hoping for more. After a brief silence, she spoke, "It's about Jace. He isn't too happy about the marriage; that's why he wasn't at the wedding."
She got up to grab a glass of water from the fridge, breaking our eye contact. "Jace and his dad haven't been close since… well, everything."
I frowned, piecing it together. "Since his mom died?"
Mom shook her head. "Actually, since they divorced," she sighed. "They were already split before she passed, but he hasn't forgiven his dad. And with her gone, it's made things even harder."
"I think he blames his father for moving on, for remarrying, for… bringing us into all of this," she concluded with another sigh.
That feeling twisted in my chest—blame, anger, and yet I was wrapped in my bubble of ignorance.
Mom reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. "Just give him some time, honey. He's your family now. He'll come around."
I mustered a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Sure. Family."
Noticing my mood, Mom decided to brighten the conversation intentionally. "You know what you should do today?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Hide in my room?"
She chuckled softly. "No! You should explore. Don't waste your summer sulking with your notebooks. Head into Driftwood Cove. It's stunning this time of year—the kind of place where you can lose track of time. The shops on Harbor Street are full of delightful little finds, the pier has all kinds of food stalls, and there's an ice cream shop on the corner with waffle cones as big as your head."
I smirked. "Sounds like you've already got the whole place mapped out."
"Yeah, I did," she said with a sparkle in her eye.
"I headed into town to grab some groceries. Everyone was really welcoming. It's a small place, but it has its own kind of charm. The kind that catches you off guard if you let it. I know you'd enjoy it," she insisted.
I fiddled with my fork. "And what if I don't?"
"Then at least you gave it a shot," she replied, more confident this time. "This doesn't have to feel like a chore, sweetheart. Make it an adventure! Meet new people, start fresh. Allow yourself to really enjoy being here instead of just waiting for the days to pass."
Her eyes drifted back to the window, even though he was long gone.
"Just give him some space," Mom said softly. "And carve out a little something just for you in this place, too."
I stared at my plate, my appetite vanished, and nodded. "Yeah, maybe I will."
But my mind couldn't help but dwell on him, the storm racing towards the sea.