Page 17 of Red, White, and You (Merry Little Midlife #3)
The setting sun casts a warm glow over the sprawling grounds of Camp West as I step out onto the wooden porch. The familiar scent of pine trees and fresh air fills my lungs, but today, like every day, my thoughts are far from the beauty that surrounds me. Instead, they are consumed by one person.
Two months have passed since I’ve seen my ex-wife, and those precious days we spent together feel more and more like a dream, like the conjuring of a lonely, broken man.
The second goodbye was agonizing, like tearing open an old wound that had only just begun to heal, and in the weeks since her departure, I’ve realized what I knew all along: none of this matters if the woman I love isn’t by my side.
Camp West is my life’s work, sure, my passion, but now it feels empty without Brie.
As I expected it would.
I had no doubt that bringing her here would taint this place forever. And how right I was. Nothing is unscathed. The lake reminds me of her laughter as she water-skied across it. The trees that surround the camp and loom above remind me of the way she gripped my hand as we soared down the zipline.
We kissed on my favorite bench.
Made love in my favorite cabin.
Watched fireworks from this very dock .
She is all over every inch of this place, and it’s just not the same without her.
But I knew that would happen. I needed it to.
Because I needed to know that selling the camp to be with her in New York was the right move.
My future is a different life—a life where Brie and I are together, sharing a home in New York. She loves her career too much to leave it behind, and I love her too much to force her to make that choice again.
So, I made the decision for both of us; it’s just taking longer than I anticipated to put my plan into motion. But once Camp West sells, I’ll be able to find my way to her.
Though the thought of parting with this place is bittersweet, if it means building a future with Brie, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Love has a way of reshaping our priorities, and mine now lie in the arms of the woman I never stopped loving.
I’ve had multiple offers, but none of them felt like the right fit. I’ve trusted my gut thus far, and will continue to do so, but this morning’s phone call might have been the one I was holding out for.
Finally, someone has shown interest in the camp , and not just the lake and surrounding acreage. If I’m correct in my perception, this buyer will maintain the camp and continue running it as I have for the past eleven years.
A car pulls up the gravel driveway, breaking the silence of the quiet afternoon. Camp West has concluded for the summer, so it’s just me up here until Spring. I turn around and watch the car roll to a stop at the end of the dock.
A man not much younger than myself steps out of the sleek, black SUV, his dark gaze sweeping across the grounds. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit, so out of place among the pines. Upon first glance, he reeks of wealth, and my heart pinches.
Was I wrong about his intentions with the lake and Camp West?
Did I misunderstand his goals on our phone call?
Maybe I was too distracted to give the discussion the full attention it required.
My hope plummets as I realize I might be forced to turn down his offer and spend more time away from the woman I love.
I make my way toward him, praying this isn’t just another developer who wants to tear down my hard work and replace it with timeshares.
The weight of the decision I’m about to make hangs heavily on my shoulders.
To him, it may just be a property, a business opportunity. But to me, it’s been a labor of love.
“Mr. West, I presume?”
“Yes.” I shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He looks around as he says, “Ryan Harris, Harris Group.”
Clearly, my mind wasn’t one-hundred percent invested in the phone call because I have no idea who sent him here.
“My client is a big fan of Camp West. I’ve come to make sure everything is in order as far as your financials, paperwork, transfer of sale, et cetera.”
Nodding, I ask, “And your client, they want to keep Camp West as it is?”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “From my understanding, between you and me, the camp itself is special to my client, not just the lake and surrounding land. But I’m not at liberty to disclose any plans for the property once the transfer of ownership has been completed.”
I exhale a breath and the tightness in my shoulders begins to ease. “Understood. ”
We take a stroll through the camp, the man asking questions about the facilities, the number of cabins, and the financials. I answer everything to the best of my ability, but he’ll need to spend some time looking over the paperwork before he informs the potential buyer.
We reach the edge of the lake, and I pause to take in the breathtaking view. The water sparkles under the sun, and the gentle breeze carries the scent of moisture on the forest floor, the beginning signs of winter creeping around the bend.
Sensing my hesitance, Mr. Harris speaks up. “It’s a lovely property you have here. The potential for development is immense.”
I nod, my gaze still fixed on the lake. “Yes, it’s a special place. But it’s time for me to move on.”
He looks at me curiously, perhaps sensing that there’s more to this decision than meets the eye. “If you don’t mind me asking, why sell such a beautiful property?”
I take a deep breath, my heart heavy with the weight of my confession. “There’s a woman waiting for me in New York.”
A flicker of understanding crosses the man’s face, and he nods knowingly. “They have a way of turning our worlds upside down, don’t they?”
Chuckling, I slide my hands into my pockets and gaze out across the lake. “This one certainly does.”
“And she’s worth it?” He extends his arm toward the lake. “She’s worth giving up all of this?”
I turn and meet his gaze. “She’s worth everything .”
Mr. Harris nods, then we continue the tour in silence.
As we reach the end, he extends his hand toward me. “I hope you find the happiness you seek,” he says sincerely.
I shake his hand firmly. “Thank you. I hope the next owner of this place will cherish it as much as I have. ”
“Barring anything below bar in your financials, I think you have a deal, Mr. West.”
We shake on that and Mr. Harris climbs back into his car, leaving me with a heavy sense of finality. As he drives away, I stand alone by the lake, the decision practically made but the road ahead uncertain.
With renewed determination, I head back toward the camp, my heart filled with hope and the promise of a future with the woman I love.