Chapter 7 - Spring in Connecticut
Six months later, the Connecticut estate looked entirely different.
The oppressive gray gloom that had choked the grounds when I first arrived had been swept away by the bright, vibrant colors of an early New England spring. The towering oaks were bursting with fresh green leaves; flower beds lined the grand stone pathways, and the air smelled of damp earth, blooming lilacs, and fresh-cut grass.
From the open French doors of the second-floor nursery came the sound of uninhibited, joyful laughter.
"Catch me if you can!"
Jacob sprinted across the expansive lawn, his legs strong, steady, and moving with the boundless energy of a normal six-year-old boy. Jonah hot on his heels, shrieking with laughter as he tried to tackle his twin into a pile of freshly raked mulch.
Standing on the stone terrace, leaning against the wrought-iron railing with a cup of coffee in his hand, Nathan watched them run.
He was wearing a casual charcoal crewneck sweater, his sleeves pushed up to his forearms, looking more like a proud young father than a feared syndicate kingpin.
I walked out onto the terrace beside him, handing him a folded linen napkin.
"You're going to spoil them," I observed mildly, watching the boys tumble onto the grass in a tangle of arms and legs. "They've already eaten three blueberry muffins each this morning."
Nathan turned his head, looking down at me with a soft, affectionate smile that had become my favorite part of every sunrise.
"Let them eat," Nathan said, wrapping one heavy arm around my shoulders and pulling me gently against his side. "They spent two years starving in the dark. They have a lot of catching up to do."
"And you?" I asked, leaning my head against his shoulder, feeling the solid, reassuring warmth of his body. "Do you feel like you've caught up?"
Nathan looked out over the sprawling estate—past the emerald lawns, past the iron security gates, out toward the endless horizon of the Connecticut hills where the world was quiet, green, and at peace.
"For the first time in thirty years," Nathan said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head, "I don't feel like I'm living in a fortress anymore. I feel like I'm finally home."
Down on the lawn, Jacob and Jonah looked up toward the terrace, waving frantically and shouting our names in unison.
May you like
Nathan raised his free hand, waving back with a wide, untroubled grin.
And as the spring breeze swept across the estate, carrying the bright, clear laughter of two healthy little boys, I knew that whatever ghosts haunted the past, they were finally laid to rest for good.
