Michael winced. He waited a long time for Ann to say more. Maybe she’d tell him the whole story someday, but she was quiet now. “I’m so sorry. I should have figured it out. That was a really shitty thing he did, and a lot for you to go through.” He stood up and reached for her hands. Her fingers were long and delicate, her palms warm. She didn’t pull away.

“I couldn’t tell anyone. I don’t know why. Instead, I pulled away. I let Anthony lie to me about you. I lashed out at all the people closest to me. I swear I chased Poppy off to the other side of the world. And look at you. You ended up all the way here.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t have ever known about this place if it weren’t for you. Now I never want to leave.”

Michael looked through the doorway into the house. He could see the wide fireplace, the transom windows above the skinny doors, the iron hardware, the wide planks in the old wood floors.

Ann said, “Don’t you think it’s time you return the fourth ace?”

Michael smiled, embarrassed. He reached for his wallet and pulled out the old playing card with the hole in the middle. Ann snapped it from his fingers with a playful smile. She squeezed Michael’s hands and leaned closer to him, resting her forehead on his sternum. He would have been happy if they could have stood like that for the rest of time. On the wall behind Ann, Michael noticed, the red arrow on Ed’s tide clock was pointing toward the words HALF TIDE FALLING. Noah would be back soon, and they’d leave for Boston. Who knew what would happen next? He’d worry about that later, just like, later, he’d worry about the content of that letter Ann gave him.

He could smell the sulfuric smell of the peat in the cove, a scent that mingled with the sweet aroma of Ann’s shampoo and the musky smell of the old house.

It wasn’t the house he wanted; it was Ann. It had always been Ann.