9. Unexpected Encounter

Lena's POV

The morning air was sharp with the scent of the sea as I walked toward the pier my shoes crunching on the gravel path. The sun had barely rose above the horizon painting the sky in soft pastels of pink and gold. I had decided to take a walk before work hoping the walk and the fresh air would help clear my mind. My thoughts of course drifted to him. Ethan. His green eyes the way he had handed me those papers the way he had made me feel like I didn’t matter. I shook my head slightly trying to push the memory away but it clung to me like a stubborn shadow.

As I neared the edge of the pier, I noticed a figure working on one of the small fishing boats rolling gently in the tide. He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a faded navy sweatshirt and a worn cap that shaded his face. The scent of salt and fish hit me before I even saw him clearly, and I wrinkled my nose slightly.

“Morning,” he called out without looking up. His voice was rough but there was a warmth to it that made me feel slightly at ease.

“Morning,” I replied hesitant. My hands twisted in the pockets of my sweater as I walked closer.

He glanced at me and I finally saw his face. Dark hair, tanned skin from years under the sun his eyes that were sharp but not unkind. He gave a small nod returning to the task at hand.

I paused unsure if I should continue walking or turn back. Something about the way he moved effiecient and confident as he checked nets and tied the ropes made me curious. I swallowed and took a step closer.

“You new in town?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at me. His eyes softened when they met mine but there was a hint of playfullness in his expression.

“Yes,” I admitted my voice quieter than I intended. “Just moved here.”

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “Huh. You don’t look like the type to just wander into a fishing town.”

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering ache in my chest. “And what type would that be?” I asked.

He laughed, low and rough, the sound echoing slightly against the water. “I dunno. Fancy city girls who don’t know how to bait a hook,” he said with a smirk.

I laughed softly, a genuine sound that surprised me. “Well, you’d be right. I have never even touched a fish in my life.”

“Figures,” he said, shaking his head then gesturing toward the nets. “Here hold this for a second. Watch your fingers.”

I hesitated but curiosity got the better of me and I stepped forward. The rope was thick and rough, scratching my palms as I held it while he adjusted the net.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said, his voice almost teasing. “Not scared of a little work, huh?”

“I can manage,” I said trying to sound confident though my heart was racing. There was something about the way he looked at me, the easy confidence in his attitude, that made my stomach flutter despite myself.

He laughed again a rich, a sound that made the ache in my chest dull for a moment. “You’re not from here, but you’ve got guts that is good. We like that around here.”

We worked together in silence for a few minutes the only sound where the slap of water against the boat and the distant cries of seagulls. I found myself relaxing and even enjoying the simplicity of the task, the rhythm of his movements, the faint teasing in his tone.

“So,” he said finally, leaning back on the edge of the boat and wiping his hands on his jeans. “You just show up in town, get a job at the café, and walk around the pier like you own it?”

“I guess so,” I admitted, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. “I’m trying to figure things out.”

“Figuring things out, huh?” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Maybe,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Maybe I just need a fresh start.”

He studied me for a moment then nodded slowly. “Fresh starts are good. Town’s quiet, people are friendly. You’ll like it here. I can tell.”

Something about the certainty in his voice made me feel safer than I had in days. Safer than I had felt since leaving Los Angeles, since leaving Ethan. But even as warmth spread through me, a pang of guilt knotted in my stomach. I wasn’t supposed to feel this light, this interest, this spark when Ethan was still alive in my thoughts. Still alive in my memories.

I shook my head, trying to push it aside. I had no right to think about anything else right now. I was too raw. Too vulnerable. But I couldn’t deny it. His easy smile, the strength in his hands, the way he looked at me with curiosity and amusement it was intoxicating, in a way that made me feel human again.

“I should probably head back,” I said finally, trying to steady my voice. “Got to get to work.”

“Sure,” he said, leaning casually against the side of the boat. “But hey, don’t be a stranger. The pier is always here. You can come talk to me anytime.”

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I might just take you up on that.”

Walking back to the café I felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. Excitement, nervousness, guilt and hope. I had only met him once and  he had alredy had a way of making the day feel less heavy, the world feel less cold. Yet Ethan’s face flashed in my mind sharp and accusingly, and the guilt tightened around my chest like a vice.

At the café, I dove into work right away, trying to bury the flutter in my stomach under the routine of taking orders and cleaning tables. But his presence lingered, the memory of his smile, the teasing in his voice, the kindness in his eyes. It was a distraction, yes, but a welcome one.

During a brief break, I stepped outside to breathe. The air was salty and crisp, the town waking slowly around me. I watched the boats sway in the water, the fishermen preparing for the day, and I felt, for the first time, a sense of connection. Not just to this town, but to life itself. I had left Los Angeles left the mansion, left Ethan. And for the first time in a long while I felt the possibility of belonging somewhere.

And yet the ache of missing him never fully disappeared. Ethan’s green eyes haunted me the memory of our anniversary the papers, the pain of signing. Even as I felt the stirrings of curiosity about Daniel, about the life I could have here a part of me cower away. I didn’t know if I could let myself be interested in someone else. I didn’t know if I could open my heart when it still belonged to another.

I shook my head trying to push the thoughts away. One step at a time I reminded myself. One moment at a time. I had survived the divorce I had left everything behind. I could survive the pangs of guilt and uncertainty too.

When I returned to the café, I smiled at the regulars took orders with more confidence and moved through the day with a growing sense of purpose. Daniel’s words, his playful banter, lingered in my mind, reminding me that life was not just pain and loss. That even in heartbreak, even in exile, there could be laughter, warmth, and the faintest spark of something beautiful.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, I finally allowed myself to feel it fully a small glimmer of hope, a fragile connection to the world outside my grief. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and I didn’t know if I could let go of Ethan entirely. But for the first time since leaving Los Angeles, I felt something like possibility. Something like a future.

And that, I realized, was enough for now.