Chapter 10 - Forty-Three Years in an Hour
Inside the cottage, a small fire burned in the hearth, filling the room with warmth and the cozy scent of burning pine. Eleanor sat on an old wooden chair while Thomas poured two cups of tea with unsteady hands.
“I didn't mean to scare you at the gala,” Thomas said quietly, sitting down across from her. “I saw Lily playing near the edge of the lawn before the guests arrived. She looked so much like you when you were young. I... I couldn't resist. I gave her the ring and asked her to take it to the lady in the dark blue dress.”
“How did you know I would be there?” Eleanor asked, holding her warm tea cup.
“I’ve kept track of you, Eleanor,” Thomas confessed, a faint, melancholic smile appearing on his face. “From a distance. Every time your picture appeared in the local paper—your wedding, Clara’s birth, your charity events—I bought a copy. I built a life in a small harbor town in Scotland, but my heart never left this coast.”
Eleanor reached across the small table and placed her hand over his. “Why didn't you come back after my father died ten years ago?”
Thomas looked down at their joined hands. “By then, you had a complete life. A husband, a daughter, a home. I was an old man with nothing to offer but painful memories. I didn't want to shatter your peace.”
“My peace was built on a lie, Thomas!” Eleanor said, her tears rising again. “My father stole our future, and Richard helped him cover it up! I spent decades thinking you were dead at the bottom of the ocean!”
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“I know,” Thomas whispered, his eyes filled with profound regret. “And I am so sorry you carried that pain. But looking at you now... you lived a good life, Eleanor. You raised a beautiful family. That was all I ever prayed for when I was working on those cold docks far away.”
Eleanor squeezed his hand tight. “It wasn't enough, Thomas. We deserved our time.”
