Echoes of the Heart, Casey, L.A. [reader novel .txt] 📗

you alone, then if you want me still . . . you’ll know where I’ll be.

Southwold isn’t a big town.

Keep chasin’, rock star.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

FRANKIE

Four months later . . .

Clashing waves, the cool, crisp air, idle distant chatting and a blanket of cold, swaying water. This handful of things were my solace when my thoughts were so loud that they made me want to scream. The late July evening was paired with a stunning sunset, which granted me an abundance of peace not even my chaotic mind could spoil. Four months. It had been four long months since I last saw Risk in person outside the back entrance to the kitchen of Mary Well’s. I leaned against the rail of the pier, where I had found myself recently spending more and more time. Weather permitting, I took a stroll along the pier most evenings to unwind from a long, hard working day.

I looked down and smiled when a knock in my tummy caught my attention.

2021 had been a whirlwind of a year for me and it was only the twenty-eighth of July, only half-way through it. Risk Keller, my ex-boyfriend and the love of my life, came barrelling back into my predictable, quiet life and his very presence turned it upside down. Even though our relationship was rekindled rapidly and went downhill just as fast, I’m glad it happened the way it did because everything that occurred during that handful of weeks Risk was in Southwold led me to now.

Pregnant with his baby.

I didn’t find out until I was ten weeks along and Risk had already been in rehab by then so I kept it to myself. May had been giving me updates on him when he got them, which I greatly appreciated. I knew Risk’s stint in rehab had ended just over three weeks ago and every time I thought of why he hadn’t come to find me yet made me feel guilty. Just because Risk completed his ninety-day program didn’t mean he was just able to up and come back to a place, and person, that made him relapse.

If he would come back.

I closed my eyes trying to force away the fear and doubt that crept into my mind whenever I wondered about him coming home. In my first text message to him the night he went back to LA, I told him point blank that if he wanted me, I would be here waiting for him. That offer was still on the table and I knew it would remain on the table for the entirety of my life. Risk was my one, my person, and I believed I was his. I could only pray he returned to Southwold because I wasn’t the only person he would be coming home to, the baby in my belly wanted him home too.

I wanted to wait.

I wanted to wait until Risk decided when, or if, coming back to Southwold, to me, was the best decision for him. There was no way I was going to contact him and let him know I was pregnant because I knew he would be on the next plane to England. If he chose not to be my romantic partner, it would crush me but I would survive. I would only tell him about the baby once he had made his decision so it wouldn’t sway his choice. It would be devastating if he wanted a life that didn’t involve me, but that would be my issue to work through. I knew he would never turn his back on his child.

The not knowing what was going to happen was a head wrecker . . . and I wasn’t exactly running on an unlimited supply of time when it came to our baby.

“C’mon God,” I looked up. “Give me a sign . . . something, anything. Just give me a hint of what I need to do, please.”

The waves slapping together below the pier were my response . . . until a voice answered me.

“What kind of sign are you looking for, Cherry? Maybe I can help you look for it.”

Time itself stood still. I turned around slowly because I was terrified I was imagining hearing his voice, but when I saw him, standing a few metres away from me with his thumbs resting in the pockets of black jeans, black boots, a black Nirvana T-shirt with rips in it and with a head full of white-blond hair that slightly curled at its ends, I was gobsmacked.

He was stunning, he was healthy, he was smiling . . . he was my Risk.

“Risk.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I was just thinking of you.”

“I know.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “The pier, the sea, and me, are your favourite things. You always think of me when you look out to the sea.”

I couldn’t remember ever telling him that, but it didn’t matter because it was the truth.

“You’re really here.”

“I’m really here. I would’ve been here a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “But I had some business to take care of.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I was buying some land near the beach, you know, so I could build a new house.”

Pain stung at my chest.

“You’re building a beach house?” I swallowed. “Lucky dog. Anywhere nice?”

“Somewhere very nice.”

I figured he didn’t want to tell me where the location was, so I didn’t press the issue.

“How come you’re here at the pier?”

“I saw you walk from your cottage all the way down here about half an hour ago . . . figured I’d come and say hello.”

I stared at him and he stared right back at me.

“Did someone see you?”

“Nope. No one knows I’m here except Nolan and the guys. He’s taken over Chris’s job for the time being. They’re down at the entrance of the pier, Jacob said he’ll scare away anyone who wants to take a walk down here. Tobias too.”

I blinked. “There are already people on the pier though, I passed by two men fishing and others watching the sunset closer to the gift shops.”

“Fine,” Risk