Episode four
1087 Words
Wilson lay awake long after the inn had gone quiet.
Rain tapped softly against the windows while the distant roar of the ocean drifted through the darkness. He stared at the ceiling, one arm folded beneath his head, but sleep refused to come.
Every time he closed his eyes, Brittany appeared.
Brittany laughing beside him on the beach at seventeen.
Brittany wrapped in his jacket during bonfires near the cliffs.
Brittany was trembling beneath his hands the first night they had made love.
His chest tightened.
Even after all these years, he could still remember every detail of that night with painful clarity—the salt scent of the sea air, the warmth of her skin beneath the moonlight, the trust shining in her eyes as she gave herself to him completely.
At first, she’d been shy, nervous, uncertain.
Then something changed.
The hesitation disappeared, replaced by a fierce honesty and passion that had shaken him to his core. No woman before or after Brittany had ever touched him that deeply. And despite the countless relationships that came later, some part of him had spent years searching for what he’d lost with her.
He had never found it.
Maybe he never would.
Maybe that was the price for promising forever and then walking away from it.
Wilson exhaled slowly and scrubbed a hand across his face.
Back then, loving Brittany had felt effortless.
Staying in Bandon had not.
Even while he loved her, another part of him had been desperate to escape. He couldn’t explain it—not even now. The small town, the predictable future, the thought of inheriting the inn one day…it had all made him feel trapped before his life had even begun.
He’d wanted more.
A bigger world.
A harder challenge.
A life that belonged entirely to him.
So he had left.
And once he did, he kept climbing.
Law school.
A powerful San Francisco firm.
Partnership before thirty-five.
Luxury cars replacing the battered truck he’d driven as a teenager.
Money.
Status.
Influence.
Everything he’d once convinced himself mattered most.
For years, he’d believed he made the right choice.
Tonight had shaken that certainty.
Seeing Brittany again—really seeing her—had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. The sight of her standing in that hallway wearing a robe, her blue eyes blazing as she threatened to smash a vase over his head, had struck him harder than her kick ever could.
Because beneath the tension and anger, she was still the woman he’d once loved beyond reason.
And for the first time in years, Wilson found himself wondering what his life might have looked like if he’d stayed.
A soft sound interrupted his thoughts.
Running water.
Wilson glanced toward the clock beside the bed.
2:34 a.m.
He frowned.
The bathroom light glowed faintly beneath the hallway door.
Randy’s snores rumbled steadily from across the hall, so it wasn’t him. Maria rarely woke during the night.
That left Brittany.
Wilson sat up slowly.
Something about her earlier had bothered him. The shadows beneath her eyes. The way she’d looked pale even before Marcus called.
Another muffled sound reached him.
Not crying.
Getting sick.
Concern immediately pushed away the remnants of nostalgia.
Sliding out of bed, Wilson pulled on a pair of sweatpants and stepped quietly into the hallway. He stopped outside the bathroom door and knocked softly.
“Brittany?”
A pause.
Then her voice came, strained and breathless. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Wilson’s frown deepened. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine.
“Do you need anything?”
“No.”
Another silence followed.
Wilson leaned one hand against the wall. “Should I wake Maria?”
“No.” Her answer came too quickly. “Please don’t wake anyone.”
He heard the sink running briefly.
Then silence again.
Wilson lowered his voice. “Brittany…are you sick?”
Nothing.
His concern sharpened. “Open the door.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Brittany.”
Still nothing.
Wilson rattled the doorknob once, more impatient now. “If you don’t open this door, I’m waking the entire house.”
A frustrated sigh sounded from inside. “Just give me a second.”
More running water.
Finally, the lock clicked.
The door opened halfway, and Brittany immediately switched off the bathroom light behind her.
Even in the dim hallway glow, Wilson could see she looked exhausted. Pale. Fragile in a way that unsettled him.
“I’m okay,” she insisted.
Wilson studied her carefully. “You don’t look okay.”
“I’m tired.”
“You were throwing up.”
“It’s stress.”
The answer came too fast, as though she’d rehearsed it already.
Wilson didn’t push.
Not yet.
Instead, he leaned casually against the wall. “I was thinking about making tea. Want some?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I have a long day tomorrow.”
So do you, he almost said.
Because it was obvious she hadn’t slept at all.
Brittany started toward her room, but Wilson stopped her quietly.
“Britt.”
She paused with one hand on the doorknob.
Wilson hesitated before speaking again.
“I’m sorry about Marcus.”
Her shoulders stiffened instantly.
For a second he thought she might ignore him completely.
Then she looked back over one shoulder, her expression shadowed and unreadable.
“Divorce changes people,” she said softly.
A moment later, her bedroom door closed.
Wilson remained in the hallway long after.
Inside her room, Brittany stood frozen in the darkness.
Her pulse hammered painfully against her ribs.
She wrapped both arms around herself and tried to steady her breathing.
This wasn’t normal.
The nausea.
The dizziness.
The timing.
Every night it came the same way.
Exactly the way it had years ago when she’d been pregnant with Bob.
Fear crawled slowly through her chest.
“No,” she whispered aloud. “No, no, no…”
She pressed trembling fingers against her temples.
After Bob, she and Marcus had tried for another baby for years. Nothing happened. Eventually, a specialist told them Marcus’s fertility was extremely low.
Marcus stopped caring after that.
Or maybe drinking simply became more important.
Brittany sank onto the edge of the bed, cold all over despite the heavy blankets.
If she was pregnant…
Her stomach twisted violently.
Another baby meant another permanent tie to Marcus.
Another responsibility.
Another life depending entirely on her.
Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.
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