Chapter 5 - THE SHIFTING TIDES
Maine was cold, but it was honest. The wind didn't pretend to be something it wasn't; the waves hit the rocks with a purpose that felt entirely different from the forced social graces of Nashville.
Ethan spent his days walking the cliffs, talking to the fishermen, and learning the stories of people who didn't care about his stock price or his family name. He began to see the humanity he had overlooked in his climb to the top.
One evening, he brought home a young woman from the local community center. She was a librarian, someone who spent her days working with children and her nights volunteering at the shelter. She didn't have a couture gown, and her diamond studs were nonexistent.
She looked at me when she entered the house, her eyes kind, her smile genuine. She didn't look at my clothes—I was wearing a simple wool sweater and trousers—she looked at my eyes.
"You must be Ethan’s mother," she said, extending a hand that was calloused from hard work. "I’m Sarah. I’ve heard so much about your kindness in town."
May you like
Ethan looked at me, a question in his eyes. He wasn't asking for my permission; he was asking for my assessment. I looked at Sarah, at the way she held herself, at the way she looked at my son.
"I'm glad to meet you, Sarah," I said, and I meant it.
