Chapter 6 - The Sanctuary in Newport
Six months after the divorce, I decided to take a much-needed sabbatical along the coast of Newport, Rhode Island.
I purchased a magnificent, sun-drenched cliffside estate overlooking Narragansett Bay. The home was an architectural masterpiece of warm cedar, natural stone, and expansive glass pavilions that caught the ocean light from sunrise to sunset.
I spent my mornings walking along the rocky coastline with my rescued Belgian Shepherd, Baron, breathing in the clean salt air and feeling the profound, unburdened peace of true freedom.
One crisp Saturday morning, while inspecting a local historical preservation project near the harbor docks, Baron pulled excitedly toward a wooden boatyard where a classic 1950s sailing sloop was being restored.
"Baron, heel!" I called out, laughing as I jogged across the crushed-shell path.
Standing on the wooden scaffolding beside the hull was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark wavy hair and kind hazel eyes, wearing a dark wool sweater and denim with sawdust on his forearms.
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The man turned around, wiping his brow with a genuine, grounding smile.
"Well, aren't you a handsome navigator?" he chuckled, stepping down to gently pat Baron’s head.
