Page 30 of Feels Like Coming Home

But now I see its merit.

I couldn’t seem to pinpoint exactly what had me feeling overwhelmed, but I knew the feeling was there. It’s like the feeling you get when you’re at a campsite in the dark and you can hear something moving around in the shadows, but you can’t see what it is. You feel a sense of danger lurking around you, but you aren’t sure if you will need to run like hell or stay and fight.

Maybe it was the fact that, since getting here, I’d felt this underlying sense of freedom that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe freedom wasn’t the right word, maybe it’s…relief?

Relief that I'm out of the house that’s a constant reminder of something I’ve lost and will never get back. Relief that I'm no longer walking around in a town where everyone knows I'm a widow. Relief that I'm away from all the pain and grief I’d been carrying around with me for the last six months, even if it was just in a physical sense.

But feeling this freedom, this relief, it also made me feel a severe sense of guilt. As if my love for Connor wasn’t deep enough for me to still feel the true weight of his loss anymore, even though I did. There’s just something about being in a new place, away from all the darkness, that made me feel…a little lighter.

Maybe it’s also the fact that you still can’t stop thinking about the flowers a certain someone sent you after the funeral—ever think about that?I crushed my eyes shut, trying to silence the snide voice that spoke in my head.

I took another deep inhale, held my breath for a second, and thought,or maybe it’s that you have all these things swirling around in your brain but no one to really share them with.

Sure, I had Deborah and Piper, and even my mom that I could talk to, but I couldn’t talk to them like I needed to. I needed someone who would just listen, let me get all my words out without questions or interruptions, and then give me their honest opinion no matter what. Someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat it or tell me what they thought I wanted to hear because they felt sorry for me.

Someone like Cam, the voice in my head said again. I swallowed hard at the thought of his name.

He showed up unexpectedly that weekend last August, not once but twice. First at the coffee shop, which was a total fluke, but then he came to the funeral the next day all on his own. I had to admit that I was touched by his attendance, even if it pissed me off at the same time. I hadn’t seen him since we were eighteen and then he just showed up to my husband's funeral with no warning?

It’s not the first time he’d shown up unannounced, I don’t know why I was surprised.

The flowers, though, had surprised me. ‘Thinking of you’was all the card said and it was signed with his name. My heart swelled knowing he had taken the time to send them, and I felt a deep pang in my belly when I realized they were a bouquet of dahlias. Not only had Cam sent me flowers, but he’d sent me myfavoriteflowers.

I still felt guilty for how I blushed as I brought them inside.

Pulling myself out of my mind, I went to take another sip of my coffee only to realize I’d finished my mug. I looked down at my empty cup and frowned, sad that the coffee was gone too soon. My eyes moved back to the beach and spotted an elderly couple walking hand in hand along the seam where the waves were hitting the sand.

I will never have that, I thought to myself, and I felt the tears hit my eyelids within seconds. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater.

Since it was mid-January, it was still chilly in the mornings as the sun started to rise. I took another deep breath and stood from the swing before slipping my feet back into my slippers.

I walked through the backdoor which led to the kitchen and living room of our small coastal bungalow. The house we had rented had just enough space for Piper and me to have our own rooms, and the third room had been converted into an office. I picked it out because I loved the light blue color it was painted and the fact that it had a wrap-around porch and a view of the ocean off the back. While I didn’t love beingonthe beach—I hated how the sand felt on my skin—I loved how beingatthe beach made me feel. Something about the waves and the salt air made me feel alive and the cozy bungalow made me feel safe.

As I set my empty coffee mug in the sink, I craned my neck to look down the hallway. From where I stood, I could tell that Piper’s bedroom door was closed which meant she was still asleep. While I was in no rush to get to work, I was starting to get hungry. We hadn’t made it to the grocery store yet which was something I was starting to regret because I was suddenly starving. I decided to head into town and get myself some breakfast at the coffee shop we passed when we drove in. Since I was already going to be there, it only made sense to me to get another coffee. Not just to get through the day, but also to fight off the cranky morning Piper I would have to wake up if she still wasn’t up by the time I got back.

I made a mental note to bring her home a pastry as an incentive for getting out of bed as I swapped my slippers for my Birkenstocks and headed out the door.

A little bellchimed as I pushed open the door and I followed the sound with my eyes, discovering the bell just above the white, paint-chipped door that led into a small but quintessentially coastal coffee shop. Coastal Brews was just a few blocks away from the bungalow so I walked here instead of driving. As I made my way through town, some of the locals waved and said hello as they sat on their porches, enjoying the morning air. I smiled and waved back, feeling instantly more at home here than I had felt in Wilmington the last six months.

I don’t know what it is about small local coffee shops, they just do it for me. The smells, the sounds, the people. They all just make me happy. Growing up, people would always go to the Starbucks in the center of town, but I always dragged anyone who would let me to the small shops instead. That person was almost always Cam, but he rarely complained about it.

Looking around, I could see that this was the place to be in the mornings. There weren’t many tables inside the shop, but the ones that were there were almost half full already, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. Coastal Brews had so many of my favorite things small-town coffee shops had: old, refinished floors with scuffs and stains, handwritten chalkboard menus that changed with the seasons, and baristas with tattoos wearing knit caps even if it wasn’t cold outside. I looked at the menu and tried to decide what I wanted before it was my turn to order. I hated when people stood in line and got to the front without knowing what they wanted.

When I stepped up to the register, I ordered my breakfast and a large, iced caramel macchiato with almond milk. I took the small number sign the barista handed me and moved to snag the last open table. As I set my coffee down, I reminded myself to grab Piper a pastry before heading home. While I waited for my food, I decided I would check the She Who Thrives Instagram and read some work emails on my phone.

I’d been scrolling for a few minutes and looking down at my phone when I saw a pair of shoes step up to my table out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it was a server bringing me my food, I looked up with a smile on my face, ready to thank them, and finally feed my stomach which at this point was now trying to eat itself.

But standing in front of me wasn’t a server or even the barista who took my order.

The person in front of me was tall and built like a god. The only thing I could focus on was the pair of dark emerald eyes looking back at me and the scent of pine and AstroTurf that was starting to fill the air around me.

Standing in front of me for the third time in less than a year was Camden Johnson.

16

CAM | NOW

After leaving Wilmington, I drove directly to the beach town Piper had tagged in the photo of her and Haley. Thankfully the coast isn’t too far from the city, so it didn’t take me long to get there. I hadn’t even made a reservation before pulling up to the only hotel in the town. I prayed under my breath as I approached the front desk that they had a room so I wouldn’t need to sleep in my car. Thankfully, the woman behind the desk thought I was cute, and when I told her I had no place else to go, she took pity on me and gave me their last available room, which happened to be a suite. I hung out for the rest of the day to give myself time to come up with a new plan.

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