Nick understood what waited for him if he stopped and took a breath—the abyss he’d fallen into the first time he saw Amy again. He knew what he needed to do, what he wanted to do now—even if he couldn’t do it with the woman he most loved. His misspent life was not Eliza’s fault or Amy’s—it was his.

He jumped into the cab of the pickup truck and headed for the dirt and shell driveway behind the tin-roofed lab he and Revvy had bought with every bit of money he’d saved. He’d made sure to set aside enough money for his boys and Lisbeth, for alimony and child support. He planned on spending as much time as possible with his kids.

Eliza—well, he couldn’t fix her pain. He couldn’t love her the way she deserved—for who she was and not for what she did. She said she’d wait, and he’d held her and told her not to, but she had insisted she would. It wasn’t hard between them—but then again, it never had been hard, only empty.

The hectic pace at which he now operated was a making up for lost time—doing everything he’d meant to do. Only he was to blame. It was he—not Eliza—who needed to pay for his sins. Thinking of all his missed chances and might-have-beens did him no good when he should be thinking about his new company, reconciling with his children.

The pit in his gut reminded him that he’d forgotten to eat again. He pulled into the first place he saw: Heaven’s Deli. They had the sloppiest, most tender oyster sandwiches in town.

He was still in his truck when the front door of the deli swung open and a woman walked out alone, carrying a sack and swinging it next to her leg. She had on a pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. A familiar ache of loss washed over him.

Amy.

A black cord hung around her neck with a single shell from Oystertip—a token of appreciation from the OWP. Norah had made one for each of them. His larger shell necklace was in the glove compartment right now.

“Oh, Amy.” He groaned as he gripped the steering wheel.

He could run after her again, feel the longing rush through him, but it would paralyze him. He would talk to her, see her, feel her; then he would wander through the maze of what he loved and needed but couldn’t have.

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes. She wasn’t everything he loved and needed, no matter how she overshadowed the rest. He couldn’t get lost now—not just for Amy, but for himself.