Mia gives me a wan smile. “He needs you, Soph. Go find him.”
Tears burn my eyes again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Ethan’s got me.” She slides the most loving expression his way, which he replies with one of his own.
A pang hits my chest—a mix of joy that my best friend found her person, envy over that very thing, and knowing I have to let that piece of her go that used to always run to me in her time of need. She has Ethan for that now.
And I couldn’t be happier for her. But a part of me still wonders if I’m meant to have that same kind of happiness. I wish I knew if Luke and I…
Could he be that person for me?
Before stepping into the sand, I slip my sandals off, letting them dangle from my fingers by the straps. I brought Luke’s gift with me in the hopes it might cheer him up and give him something positive to focus on.
The beach is nearly empty except for a few stragglers and couples strolling hand-in-hand, waiting for the sunset, which reminds me of my walk with Luke around the arena. We may not have had a sunset, but it was no less romantic.
I sweep my gaze down the shoreline for any sign of his familiar form. Leaving the warm, powdery white sand to walk along the water’s edge, I inhale the salty air as gulls caw in search of their eveningmeal.
And just as my hope to find him about gives out, I recognize his figure near one of the lifeguard towers. I quicken my step as best as I can in this dress, but as I get closer, I stop.
By the time I reach him, he’s sitting on the bottom step of the tower, holding a worn sheet of paper in one hand and his head in the other.
His body language confirms the anguish I can only imagine he’s feeling right now, and it breaks me. Breaks my heart. But it also gives me the courage I need to go to him and be whatever he needs.
Saying nothing, I walk over and sit on the step next to him. He lifts his gaze to mine but remains silent. The sound of gentle waves lapping the shore fills our silence. I make note of the marks on his face that show he’s been crying, which makes me ache even more.
He folds the page along worn creases and clutches it. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
I manage a small smile. “You said you were glad I brought you here that day. Just made sense you might come here.” I push my shoulder against his. “Kinsley filled me in.”
He nods, staring at the folded paper in his hands.
I’m nervous to ask, but I want him to know I understand what’s going on. “Is that the letter your father gave you?”
He nods again. “His amends letter.”
I’m uncertain about what else to say as I tuck my lips between my teeth, so I press my hand on his bicep and lay my head on his shoulder so he knows I’m here for him. How ironic that, as a writer, my words seem to fail me at such a crucial moment. But actions speak louder than words, right? I can at least give him that.
“I don’t know what to do, Soph.” His voice grates with emotion.
I lift my head but rest my chin on his arm. “Forgive him?”
His arm stiffens, but he continues to stare out at the ocean. “How can I?” He looks down at me. “All I can think about ishow different our lives might be if he never left. Maybe my mother might even still be alive today.”
Hearing the anger in his voice, I straighten. “Maybe. Maybe not. We have no way of knowing. Based on what you told me, it sounds like his staying would have made things worse for you and your sister. And your mother.”
I stare at the wrapped gift, unsure whether to give it to him. Perhaps it could help him see how much he has to be thankful for.
My hand trembles slightly as I hand it to him. “This is for you.”
He rips the paper away, then grins with a snort. “Kinsley looks just like our mother when she smiles like that.”
I touch his arm. “Nothing will bring your mother back, Luke. Believe me, I wish that were a possibility. You and your sister have an opportunity to reconnect with your father. I’d give anything to have just one more day with mine.”
He says nothing, but I can feel the bristle oozing off of him. Maybe I said too much too soon. Perhaps right now, what he needs most is for me just to listen. “I’m sorry if I overstepped?—”
He stands up and walks toward the water. A wave rushes up and saturates the bottom of his pants, but he doesn’t seem to care.
I push off the step and wander down to join him. But when I try to slip my hand into his, he pulls away. “Things were back on track, Sophie. Finally.”
