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Kelsey closed her eyes, remembering yesterday morning when they’d told Noah. The boy had taken the news with surprising stoicism on the surface, though she’d noticed the slight tremble in his lower lip, the way his fingers had worried the edge of his shirt. Noah’s small tells that betrayed his confusion, his hurt.

Mac had been gentle but firm, explaining he needed to sail away for a while. But at least he’d taken her concerns about Noah to heart; he had set up the email account on Noah’s tablet and showed him how the video calls could work when Mac was near enough to land for a signal. For that, Kelsey was grateful.

What Mac hadn’t done was set up any such system for Kelsey herself. The omission felt deliberate, a clear delineation of priorities, of relationships worth maintaining. Noah was the responsibility Mac had undertaken. Kelsey was… what? The means to that end?

The engine sound faded entirely. Kelsey finally rolled from the bed, drawing back the curtain just enough to see the bay. Mac’s sailboat was a white speck against the darkened water, diminishing with each moment.

She watched until the Nereid disappeared beyond the channel markers, until there was nothing to see but the first pink streaks of dawn illuminating an empty horizon. Then she let the curtain fall back into place.

The house felt different already. Hollowed out.

Kelsey moved through her morning routine with deliberate care. Shower. Clothes. Coffee. The familiar motions were a bulwark against the tide of despair threatening to pull her under. She would need to wake Noah soon for school, as if they hadn’t just lost a vital component of their newly constructed family.

The adoption would go through, Mac had assured her of that. Johnson had his instructions and the attorneys knew what to do. The paperwork would proceed without Mac’s physical presence, grinding methodically toward making Noah officially a MacCormack. A strange comfort, knowing that despite everything, this part of Mac’s promise remained intact.

The threat the Prescotts held was at bay, Jason effectively hoppled. The house was theirs to live in, and every material need was met.

Everything except the one thing she hadn’t realized she wanted until it was already slipping away. Him.

Foolish, really. She’d gone into the arrangement with eyes wide open. A marriage of convenience. A solution to a specific problem.

Yet here she was, standing in the kitchen of a dream house, feeling as if someone had hollowed out her chest and replaced her heart with lead.

She’d been here before, she reminded herself. When she learned of David’s death, pregnant and suddenly alone. Grief had seemed like an ocean too vast to cross. She had survived that. She had built a life for herself and Noah from nothing. She could do it again.

But this was different. David hadn’t chosen to leave. He hadn’t packed his things and sailed away. David’s leaving had been absolute, irreversible. There was clarity in that, a definitive ending that allowed for eventual healing.

Mac’s departure was all loose ends. Not knowing if he would return, or when. Not knowing if, somewhere out on the open ocean, he would find whatever he was looking for and decide that life was simpler without the complications of a family waiting at home.

Kelsey glanced at the clock. Time to wake Noah. She prepped herself for the questions that would inevitably come from the little boy, knowing she would need to strike the right balance between honesty and reassurance. Noah had never known his father, had never experienced the pain of someone walking away from him. Until now.

Climbing the stairs to Noah’s room, she paused at the top, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of déjà vu. How many times had she done this in the first months after Noah was born? Gathered herself, plastered on a brave face, determined not to let her infant son somehow absorb her grief even though he was too young to understand?

Too many to count.

Mac had certainly left them well-provided for, beyond imagining. He had honored the commitment he’d made. But provision without presence was a poor substitute for love.

She took a deep breath. They would survive this, she and Noah. They had survived worse. And if, when, Mac returned, they would deal with that too, whatever it might mean.

Kelsey went to wake her son. The day was beginning, whether she was ready or not. The only way out was through.

Chapter 30

The late August sunlight beat its heat across the mansion’s sprawling lawn. Noah and Tyler chased Amy’s terrier, Ollie, their shouts and laughter drifting up to where Kelsey and Amy sat on the weathered stone steps. Kelsey swirled the last of her pinot noir and watched the boys rather than her sister’s animated gesturing about the mansion looming behind them.

“The historical society practically had a collective heart attack when I mentioned updating the kitchen,” Amy said, refilling her glass from the bottle nestled between them. “Apparently, the original cabinetry is ‘irreplaceable period craftsmanship.’ Never mind that it’s falling apart and probably harboring colonies of mice behind the walls.”

“Mmm,” Kelsey murmured. Noah flopped dramatically onto the grass, allowing Ollie to scramble over his chest.

“And the wiring, my God, the wiring. The inspector said it’s a miracle the place hasn’t burned to the ground.” Amy paused, studying her sister’s profile. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

Kelsey blinked, then turned toward Amy with a guilty smile. “Sorry. Something about… wiring?”

“Never mind.” Amy nudged Kelsey’s shoulder gently. “Where were you just now?”

“Here. Just…” Kelsey gestured vaguely. “Thinking.”

“About Mac,” Amy stated flatly. Not a question.