Chapter 7 - The Bell Above the Door
The rain was falling in gentle, gray sheets over Yaquina Bay when the brass bell above the door of The Driftwood Quill chimed.
Amy was standing near the history section, resting one hand against her lower back to ease the ache of her twenty-eighth week, holding a stack of leather-bound novels.
"I'll be right with you," she called out, sliding a volume onto the top shelf. "Frank stepped out to pick up the mail, but feel free to browse the maritime section near the stove."
No answer came. Only the slow, hesitant sound of footsteps on the creaking fir floorboards.
Amy turned around.
The books slipped from her hands, thudding heavily against the wooden floor.
Daniel stood at the end of the aisle.
He was wearing an unbuttoned black wool coat over a simple gray sweater, soaked through with rain. He had lost weight; his cheekbones were sharp, his dark hair disheveled, and his eyes carried an intensity of pain and exhaustion that Amy had never seen in all their years together.
For ten long seconds, neither of them moved.
The only sound in the bookstore was the crackle of the cast-iron stove and the rain drumming against the glass.
Daniel’s gaze dropped slowly from her face down to the pronounced swell of her belly beneath her cream knit sweater. His eyes widened, shining instantly with unshed tears, his breath catching in a broken gasp.
"Amy," he breathed, taking one tentative, trembling step forward.
Amy took an instinctive step back, her hands coming up to shield her child. "How did you find me?"
The terror in her posture struck Daniel like a physical blow. He immediately stopped, raising his hands in surrender, keeping six feet of distance between them.
"Claire's bank transfers," Daniel said, his voice cracking. "I came alone, Amy. No lawyers, no security. Just me."
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"You shouldn't have come," Amy said, her voice shaking despite her effort to remain composed. "I left everything in New York. The apartment, the settlement rights, the jewelry. You have your company. You have your life."
"I have nothing," Daniel whispered, tears finally breaking past his lashes and tracking down his weathered cheeks. "I have an empty glass building and a life that means absolutely nothing without you and our baby."
