“You really think you can leave this place again?”

“I know I will.”

Dani arched a brow. “Where are you going?”

“Destination unknown.”

“Here’s as good as anywhere,” Dani said. “You’ve not experienced the Outer Banks as an adult.”

“Too much past here.” Her mother’s and grandmother’s deaths had tainted the house with a sense of loss.

“And you think you living somewhere else erases it? It follows you. I know.”

“And you’re suggesting?”

“You confront it.”

“I am. I’m here.”

“You’re ignoring it. Take me, for example.”

“What about you?”

“You’ve been nothing but polite ever since I arrived on your doorstep. Shoe on the other foot, I would have been pissed at you.”

“I’ve already promised you a good fight. Eventually.”

“You won’t. You’re too nice to do anything about it. Too many years of smiling at undeserving Seaside Resort guests and Vincenzo’s patrons has trained you well. Nonconflict is so ingrained in you that you don’t know how to fight.”

“I fight. Ask the vendors in the New York food markets, the restaurant distributors, or reviewers.”

“That’s the easy kind of conflict that doesn’t scrape any skin off your nose. The emotional stuff like losing a mother, grandmother, seeing your family legacy wiped out in a hurricane, having your best friend sleep with your ex . . . that shit stings.”

“Maybe I’m keeping it classy. Mom died when I was five. Ruth lived a great life. The Seaside Resort’s doors were open a century. And I’d been in New York two months before you and Matthew hooked up.”

Dani shrugged. “Logic works great until your head explodes from rage.”

Tightness fisted in Ivy’s chest. “You’re being dramatic. And I don’t have time for drama. I have to get started on the bedrooms.”

“Okay, suit yourself. But if you ever get furious and want to rage at the moon, come sit next to me. I’m an expert.”

“Why would you be angry? You have a daughter, a business, and you’ve moved on from your ex-husband, correct?”

“Life’s full of all kinds of pitfalls, Ivy.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Ivy’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Dani. “Are you dying?”

“No, I’m not dying.”

Relief washed through Ivy. “Is Bella okay?”

“Yes.”

“Your father? Dalton?”

“All well.”

“What aren’t you saying?”

“Nothing to report here,” Dani said. “I’ll live to be one hundred. Besides, you’ve been the villainess in too many of my recollections. I would miss getting annoyed with you when I have no one else to blame but myself.”

“I’m not a villain,” Ivy said quickly. “Stupid, weak, immature twelve years ago, but not a villain.”

“The heavy never see themselves as evil. Some are quite charming and cute. That’s what makes them so likable.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Ivy said. She’d not cast Dani as the architect of her troubles for a long time, and she’d just assumed Dani felt the same way.

For a moment, neither spoke as the surf crashed around the ruins of the ship.