Chapter 27 - The Quiet SundayA week after the gala, Sunday arrived with the slow, lazy rhythm of a coastal autumn.
The Wilmington estate was quiet, filled with the rich aroma of roasting coffee and fresh pastries. Jessica’s mother was resting comfortably in her sunny garden room, listening to classical radio while sketching watercolor landscapes—a hobby she had recently picked up that brought her immense joy.
Jessica sat on the wide mahogany back porch, her bare feet propped up on the railing, wrapped in a soft gray fleece blanket.
Marcus stepped out onto the deck holding two mugs of steaming coffee, handing one to her before leaning against the wooden balustrade.
“Penny for your thoughts, counselor?” Marcus asked softly.
Jessica smiled, taking a slow sip of her coffee. “I was just thinking about how strange life is. If someone had told me five years ago, standing in that suburban kitchen in Charlotte, that this is where I’d end up—living by the ocean, practicing law, completely free—I wouldn't have believed them.”
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“Because you couldn't see past the walls he built around you,” Marcus noted gently.
“Exactly,” Jessica agreed, looking out over the endless blue expanse of the Atlantic. “He thought he was building a prison for me. But all he was really doing was forcing me to discover how strong my own foundation truly was.”
