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“Do you have much to pack?” Charlotteasked.
“Not much,” Henry said. “Can we sitawhile until Liam comes back?”
“Of course.”
As Charlotte and Henry sat in silence,waiting for Liam to return from his walk, Charlotte's thoughts began to wanderback to The Old Crown Inn and, more specifically, to Roxanne. The realizationof what she had just offered—to not only Henry but implicitly to Liam aswell—started to settle in, bringing with it a wave of anxiety.
Her heart began to race at the thoughtof Roxanne's reaction. Roxanne, with her fiery spirit and her wounds still rawfrom their father's abandonment. How would she respond to Charlotte bringingHenry—and a previously unknown half-brother—into their lives and into the innthat had become their sanctuary from the world's chaos?
Charlotte could almost hear Roxanne'sincredulous voice, see the shock and possibly betrayal in her eyes. The inn,with its creaking floorboards and the comforting scent of sea salt and pine,was more than just a business to them; it was a home. Introducing Henry andLiam into this space felt like she might be forcing things too soon.
Her mind raced with possible scenarios,each more troubling than the last. Would Roxanne understand her need to extendthis olive branch, to seek closure and maybe even a new beginning? Or would shesee it as a betrayal, a reopening of old wounds that had never fully healed?
Despite the panic swirling inside her,felt compelled to take the gamble. But as the weight of her decision presseddown upon her, Charlotte couldn't shake the fear of Roxanne's reaction. Theprospect of facing her sister with Henry and Liam in tow filled her with dread.She knew she would need to prepare to find the right words to bridge the gapbetween their past hurts and the possibility of a shared future.
For now, though, she would wait forLiam, for the moment when they would all head back to The Old Crown Inntogether. As the sea whispered promises of new beginnings beyond the window,Charlotte braced herself for the challenges that lay ahead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Charlotte had chosen one of the finestrooms in The Old Crown Inn for Henry and Liam's stay. In the newly remodeledwing of the house, it had double four-posters and a view of the undulating seabeyond the cliffs of Chesham Cove. As she checked it over before bringing themupstairs, she moved methodically, her hands smoothing the crisp, fresh linensover the large mattresses. Every corner was tucked with precision, owing to herattention to detail—a trait she had honed as an artist.
Her fingers fluffed the last pillowbefore placing it against the ornate headboard, the white cotton blooming likea cloud under her touch. Satisfied, she stepped back, her gaze sweeping theroom to ensure perfection. On the bedside table, she positioned a water pitcherfilled with fresh water. Then, she repositioned the drinking glass next to it.
"Charlotte, what are youdoing?" Roxanne's voice sliced through the tranquil atmosphere, sharp andunapologetically intrusive. Charlotte turned to find her sister framed in thedoorway, arms crossed, her posture radiating disapproval. She was still inpajamas.
"Preparing the room,"Charlotte replied without missing a beat, though her heart had begun to thumperratically at the sight of her sister's furrowed brow.
"Preparing it for him?"Roxanne's tone was incredulous, her dark eyes scanning the room as if eachthoughtful touch was a personal affront. "I saw him in the car outside.You shouldn't be rolling out the red carpet for someone who left us withnothing but questions."
"Roxanne," Charlotte began,her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest, "this isn't aboutthe past. It's about—"
"About what? Redemption?Family?" Roxanne interrupted, her laugh devoid of humor. "I don'tbuy it. There's plenty of other places they could stay."
Charlotte's hands paused over theneatly folded towels stacked on the dresser, her fingers pressing into theplush terrycloth as Roxanne's words reverberated through the sunlit room. Thelight filtering in through the gauzy curtains cast a soft glow on the antiquefurniture, lending an air of tranquility that clashed with Roxanne's harshskepticism.
"Roxanne," Charlotte said,her voice firmer than she felt, "I know you have your reservations, butthis is about giving Dad a chance to make things right.”
"Make things right?" Roxannesnorted, crossing her arms. "After all these years?"
"Isn't it better to try and healthan hold onto bitterness?" Charlotte countered, smoothing out a wrinklein the bedspread. She knew her sister's protective instincts ran deep, but sodid the wounds left by their father's absence.
"Fine." Roxanne relented withan exasperated sigh. "But if things go south, don't say I didn't warnyou."
Charlotte nodded, knowing full well therisk she was taking. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the peacefulwaves she had watched that morning, letting them calm the storm brewing insideher. "This is my home now, my decision. We can't turn away family, evenif... even if it's complicated."
"Complicated," Roxanneechoed, her skepticism as palpable as the salty breeze that wafted in from theopen window. "Well, it's your inn. I just hope you know what you'redoing."
"Me too," Charlottewhispered, mostly to herself, as Roxanne's retreat thundered against the woodenfloor, leaving her alone once again. With a final glance at the invitingarrangement of the room, Charlotte hoped that this gesture, small as it mightseem, would be enough to bridge the years of silence between them. As shewalked toward the door, she couldn't shake the feeling that the incoming tidewas bringing more than just her father and brother—it was ushering in a wave ofchange, for better or worse.
"Here we go," Charlotte said,drawing in a deep breath to steady the fluttering in her chest. She hurrieddown the stairs, stepped through the doorway and onto the porch just as Henryand Liam emerged from their vehicle.
Henry, with his silver hair catchingthe last rays of sun, offered a tentative smile that seemed to struggle againstthe years of distance between them. Beside him, Liam carried a duffel bag overhis shoulder, his youthful features set in a stoic expression that matched hisfather's unease.
"Welcome to The Old CrownInn," Charlotte said, her voice warm but laced with an undercurrent ofnervousness. "I hope you like it.”
"Thank you, Charlotte," Henryreplied, his gaze flitting across the façade of the inn before resting back onher. The years had etched lines of regret around his eyes, but for a moment,Charlotte saw the young man who once filled their home with laughter.
Liam nodded in greeting, though hiseyes darted anxiously around the surroundings, as if searching for an anchor inthis unfamiliar place.
