A Brush of Blue

Chapter 1: New Skies and Old Memories

The road to Blue Haven stretched endlessly ahead of Selah Montgomery, winding like a thin ribbon between towering cliffs and the sea. The silence in the car was almost palpable, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional whistling of wind through the cracked window. Selah gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles pale against her brown skin, as if holding on to it would ground her in the midst of the chaos swirling inside her. The salty tang of the sea filled the car, a reminder of where she was headed—toward isolation, toward peace, and maybe, just maybe, toward healing.

Blue Haven had not been her first choice. In fact, she hadn't planned on leaving the city at all. But after weeks of sleepless nights and long days spent lost in memories of Grace, her late wife, Selah had realized that she couldn't stay in their apartment any longer. Everywhere she turned, she saw Grace—the kitchen where she used to hum while making breakfast, the art studio where she would sit and watch Selah paint, the bedroom where they'd shared quiet mornings wrapped in each other's arms. It was too much. The grief was suffocating.

So, she'd packed her life into a few boxes, stuffed them into the back of her old sedan, and fled to Blue Haven, a coastal town she had once heard about in passing. A place far away from the life she had known, where no one knew her story. It felt like the only option, a desperate bid to escape the overwhelming weight of loss.

The town itself came into view as the road narrowed, and Selah felt a strange pang in her chest as she approached. Blue Haven seemed to appear out of nowhere, nestled between the cliffs and the endless expanse of the ocean, like a secret tucked away from the rest of the world. The houses were small, weathered by years of salty sea air, their shutters painted in faded pastel hues. Palm trees dotted the streets, their fronds swaying lazily in the breeze.

Selah's new home was a modest cottage perched on the edge of the beach. As she pulled into the gravel driveway, the car tires crunching beneath her, she let out a shaky breath. The cottage was small, with blue shutters that had seen better days and a white picket fence that leaned slightly in the wind. It was nothing like the sleek, modern apartment she and Grace had shared in the city. This place felt older, quieter, as though it had been waiting for someone like her—someone who needed to hide from the world.

Stepping out of the car, Selah took a deep breath, the salty air filling her lungs. For a moment, she thought it might actually feel good. The crash of the waves and the distant cries of seabirds made her feel small, almost invisible. But as quickly as the feeling of peace had come, it vanished, replaced by the heavy, familiar ache of grief. Grace should have been here, standing beside her, breathing in the same salty air, smiling at the endless horizon.

Grace would have loved this place.

The thought hit Selah like a punch to the gut. She wasn't sure why she felt that way. It wasn't as if Grace had ever mentioned wanting to live by the sea. But Selah knew her wife would have appreciated the untouched beauty, the quiet stillness. Grace had always found joy in the smallest things, in moments of serenity. Now, all Selah could feel was the emptiness where Grace's laughter should have been.

Selah stood there for a long time, staring out at the ocean, her heart heavy. Eventually, she tore her gaze away from the waves and turned toward the car, opening the trunk to pull out the few bags she had brought with her. She'd left most of her things in storage back in the city. There was no need for them here. The cottage came furnished, and all she really needed was the bare minimum. Clothes, her art supplies, and a few mementos of the life she had once shared with Grace.

Inside, the cottage was cozy but sparse. The wooden floors creaked under her feet as she walked through the small living room, her eyes scanning the space. Faded paintings of seascapes and lighthouses adorned the walls, and a fireplace sat in the corner, though she doubted she would ever use it. The large windows framed views of the ocean, which stretched endlessly toward the horizon, a reminder of how small and insignificant everything seemed in the face of such vastness.