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Chapter 4

FOUR

Charlie

2 years ago

Nick cups my cheek. His eyes—so clear, so blue, sparkling with… my God… with everything —land on mine.

“Thanks for coming down to see me off,” he says. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I did though.”

We stand at the edge of the pier, him in his dress blues, and me in jean shorts and sneakers, silhouetted against the setting sun as it explodes over the water. He ships out today, a six-month deployment. I flew down to spend some time with him before he leaves. I had to. I couldn’t go that long without seeing him again.

The look in his eyes says he understands.

The pier stretches long and steady beneath our feet, the wood warmed by the remnants of the day’s sun. The ocean is alive, waves crashing in the distance, the tang of salt in the air, the cries of gulls echoing above. The sun dips low on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of fire, gold, orange, crimson. It feels too beautiful, too perfect, like the universe itself is leaning in to listen.

“It’s so good to touch you.” Nick’s voice rumbles through the gentle crash of ocean waves. It’s warm and silky and feels like home. “I mean, thank God for technology keeping us connected, but nothing compares to having you right here with me.”

The wind catches my hair and he brushes an errant curl off my face. I lean into his touch and a shiver of delight hits my system. Fireworks dancing between starlight. Bubbles sparkling through champagne. His touch feels like a promise, warm and grounding, and I don’t want him to let go. The truth of how I feel for him is rushing up in my chest, pushing against the walls I’ve built around it. I can’t hold it in anymore. It’s burning to escape.

But what if I ruin everything? What if it’s too much, too soon?

Still, the thought of him leaving without knowing feels unbearable.

So I do the only thing I can…

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” I whisper, no longer able to contain the truth. We’ve never even kissed. We’ve come so close, so many times, but one of us always pulls away. Forever rational.

His job…

My home…

Right person, wrong time, again and again.

“I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you from the first time I saw you,” he murmurs and my heart leaps, until Nick closes his eyes and sighs. “But it’s bad luck to start anything before I ship out.”

I step out of his embrace and grip the railing at the end of the pier. “Then we won’t start it until you get home,” I say to the wind, then turn to lean against the rail because I can’t not look at him. “You go and you do what you have to do, and we’ll talk the way we always do. Text. Calls. Letters… God I love your letters. Until you’re home, we’re whatever it is we’ve been up until this point. But after?”

Words can’t encompass everything I’m feeling so I put a hand to my heart, desperately holding his gaze, imploring him to hear me, to accept me, to want me.

“After,” he repeats, the word thick with unspoken promises. His gaze holds mine, steady and sure, as though he’s committing every detail of this moment to memory. The way my hair blows in the wind. The way my hand clutches my heart. The way I’m looking at him like he’s my everything—because he is.

“I’ll be home in six months.”

“You better be, Marine.” It’s a plea wrapped in the guise of wit.

Nick nods, then tugs at his jacket sleeves and squares his shoulders, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. All six-foot-three of him is a towering set of lines and angles. He is strength and confidence and security. He is safety. He is everything I’ve ever needed.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He snaps into a crisp salute before dropping me a wink.

I drive him to the airport, stealing every last second with him I can. The air is thick with the bustle of travelers—luggage wheels clattering, voices overlapping, announcements echoing overhead. But all I hear is the steady beat of my heart and the ticking clock counting down the seconds until he’s gone. I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles ache, trying to find words. I open my mouth to say goodbye, but he shakes his head.

“No goodbyes.” He cups my cheeks. “Makes it feel too permanent, you know?”

I bob my head. “How about, ‘Talk to you soon but see you in six months?’”

“That’ll do.” Nick kisses the back of my hand, then swings open the car door. I join him, watching as he pulls his bag from the trunk, then throw myself into his embrace. He holds me tight. I want to kiss him so badly it’s almost a need. I tilt my head, drawn toward him like gravity itself is pulling us together. His hand cups my cheek, the warmth of his palm grounding me as his thumb brushes lightly across my skin. Our foreheads touch, and I feel his breath against my lips, shallow and uneven. For one breathtaking moment, the world disappears. And then, just as quickly, it snaps back into place.

“After,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly, before he pulls away.

I watch him disappear into the crowd, my chest aching with longing, but my heart swelling with something stronger.

Hope.

Love.

Certainty.

This is it.

Nick Hutton is the one. The man I’m going to marry. I know it the way I know the sun will rise tomorrow. The way I know the ocean will always meet the shore. He’s my home, my forever, as inevitable as my next breath.