CHAPTER : 6The shadows dwelling among the high-pitched beams of the loft crept down as the sun gathered its last lingering robes across the ocean, and closed slowly in around Fish Finlay, sitting hunched forward on the sofa.
What the hell. He straightened up and reached into his pocket for a cigarette, his mouth still full of the bitter fruit of another empty dream. If he hadn’t come to Newport . . . if she hadn’t come . . . he might have gone on deceiving himself. He was in love with her, and had been since the moment he saw her on the empty Virginia road. He knew it now, and the impact of knowing it had shattered all the cauterizing reserves he’d built up for himself. His cigarette glowed a small fitful light in the lonely darkness as he began to pick up the pieces and put them painfull
