Chapter 10
Elena
“You did this on purpose.”
William didn’t even attempt innocence.
“It’s already decided.”
“You decided it.”
“Correct.”
“I am not teaming up with Carter,” Elena whispered in anger.
Around them, guests gathered along the docks with cocktails and sunglasses, treating the sailing race with an intensity completely unnecessary for what was essentially wealthy adults competing on tiny boats for bragging rights.
The lake glittered beneath the afternoon sun while rows of small sailboats rocked gently against the pier.
Elena crossed her arms. “Switch me with someone else.”
“No.”
“William.”
“Elena.”
Beside her, Carter adjusted the straps of the mandatory life jacket with visible annoyance.
“Honestly, I’m offended too.”
William ignored him.
“You two have spent the entire time circling each other like a pair of stray dogs fighting over a bone,” he said flatly. “Aaron and Ivy are stressed enough already. Try to be civil with each other.”
“We have been perfectly civil,” Elena replied, lifting her chin.
“Seriously? Last night at the dinner, you were sawing into your chicken breast like you were wishing it was his head,” William countered flatly.
Carter snorted, trying—and failing—to hide a laugh. William snapped at him instantly. “Shut up, Carter, you are no better. I know for a fact you’re enjoying riling her up.”
“I’d rather just stay in my cabin, thanks. I don't have the energy for this,” Elena said, making a move to walk away.
William stepped right into her path, blocking the exit. “Elena, I know both of you well enough to see that a total bitch-fight is incoming sooner or later, and we all know it.”
Elena and Carter turned on him in perfect, terrifying unison, their faces mirroring each other with the identical scowls of pure offense.
William didn't even blink.
He just continued, “And frankly, I am too exhausted to keep playing referee. Like it or not, you two are stuck working together. So, both of you are going to march right onto that boat, sort this thing out between you, and you are not coming out until you do.”
William was gentle most of the time—or maybe, since she’d grown up with him, she was just immune to it. But seeing him stand his ground using his full height and serious physique was actually pretty intimidating. He meant business.
“Ugh. Fine. So pushy,” Elena muttered, rolling her eyes. Even so, neither she nor Carter complained further as they climbed onto the sailboat.
Satisfied, William stepped back onto the dock and untied the lines. The sailboat slowly drifted away from the shore, leaving Elena and Carter completely alone.
Wonderful.
***
Neither of them spoke.
The only sounds were the wind snapping softly through the sail and distant laughter from the shore where guests watched the race.
Elena focused entirely on the ropes in front of her. She knew how to sail. Of course she did.
Old money families treated sailing like piano lessons.
Her dad had practically raised her on the water, turning every summer weekend into an adventure.
He used to patiently guide her small hands over the rigging, teaching her how to read the wind before she was even old enough to ride a bike.
Sailing wasn't just a skill; it was a patchwork of her favorite childhood memories, filled with the scent of saltwater and her father's booming, proud laugh.
The sail fluttered sharply overhead while Elena focused on adjusting the ropes with practiced ease. Carter stood opposite her, clearly unfamiliar with literally everything happening on the boat.
Their sailboat drifted slightly sideways.
Then more sideways.
Carter looked around. “Are we supposed to be moving in that direction?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Because everyone else seems to be going the other way.”
Elena tightened another rope. “I’m adjusting for the wind.”
“Hm.”
The sheer irritation that single sound sparked in her chest was entirely uncalled for, but she forced herself to remain silent, keeping her eyes glued to the water.
Without warning, Carter reached for one of the lines beside him and pulled.
The sail snapped violently.
The boat jerked hard enough to throw Elena forward half a step.
“Oh my God—stop touching things!”
“I was trying to help.”
“Well stop helping!”
“I pulled one rope.”
“The wrong rope!”
“How was I supposed to know there are apparently twelve identical murder ropes on this thing?”
Elena stared at him in disbelief.
“You are absolutely not qualified to help.”
“Well forgive me for not growing up spending summers on yachts.”
“Well maybe don’t touch things you don’t understand.”
“I'm just trying to help us move, Captain. Not steer us into an iceberg.”
Elena grabbed the rope back from him with visible irritation. “It’s a sailboat, not the Titanic.”
“Right. Because that distinction changes how ridiculous this is.”
She shot him a glare.
Silence stretched again as Elena fixed the sail.
Another boat passed them.
Then another.
Excellent.
“This is painful to watch,” Carter commented.
“You are welcome to jump overboard.”
“Tempting.”
The breeze pushed loose strands of hair across Elena’s face while she tightened another rope aggressively.
Honestly, she didn’t know what irritated her more—the fact that Carter was here at all, or the fact that after four years he still affected the atmosphere around her this easily.
“You know,” Elena snapped while yanking another rope into place, “this is my friend’s wedding weekend. Why don’t you do us both a favor and disappear again like you did for the last four years?”
All the fight immediately drained out of him. Carter flinched as if she’d physically struck him, his eyes darkening with a sudden, heavy sorrow.
When he finally answered, his voice had gone quieter.
“You still think it was that simple?”
Elena laughed once under her breath. “Please. You disappeared without any explanation. You still refuse to give one.”
There it was again—that same look from the dinner five days ago. Like he had something to say but was determined not to. He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers lingering on his collarbone the exact way they did when he was hiding something. She knew him well enough to recognize it instantly.
She hadn't forgotten how arrogantly he’d behaved at dinner when she demanded honesty. He thought she hadn't noticed him trying to make her angry just to deflect the real questions.
“You’re still such a brat.”
Back then, he used to call her that affectionately—whether she was closing his laptop and sitting on his lap demanding him to look at her instead of his screen, or hiding board game pieces the exact second she realized she was losing, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat.
But this time, the word hit her like a match to gasoline.
“Do not call me that.” Elena marched up to him, the boat rocking slightly under the sudden, furious weight of her steps.
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest heaving as all the pent-up hurt from the last four years boiled over into pure rage.
She got right into his space, her eyes flashing like live wires.
Carter looked down at her evenly. “Why? Because it’s true?”
“I swear to God, Carter—”
“What? You’ll yell at me some more? You’ve been doing that since we were nineteen,” he said, closing the distance between them.
“Oh, you think disappearing for four years deserves a warm welcome?” Elena unleashed.
They were standing chest-to-chest now on the narrow deck, trapped by the water and the sheer gravity of each other. Elena’s hands were clenched, her chin tilted up defiantly, daring him to push her further.
Carter looked down at her, and suddenly, his stubborn look was gone. For a second, he just looked hurt—like he had finally run out of ways to hide how he really felt.
“Elena,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper. “You aren't the only one who has been hurting.”
The boat rocked harder beneath their shifting weight as Elena stepped closer without realizing it.
The boat rocked harder beneath their shifting weight as Elena stepped closer without realizing it.
His brown eyes caught the sunlight, turning the color of warm honey. Elena couldn’t look away, and he didn't either. It was annoying how hot he looked, even in a bright orange lifeguard jacket with his dark hair messy from the wind.
She noticed the stubble on his jawline. He hadn't grown it out like this four years ago, and it only made him more attractive. A tiny part of her wanted to touch it, to feel the scratch of it against her fingers.
When he leaned closer, her mind raced. She wondered how that stubble would feel if they kissed. As if reading her mind, his eyes moved from her gaze down to her lips, wearing that familiar look from their past. Elena's heart skipped a beat, her lips parting on their own as she waited.
Wait.
What did he just say? He was hurt? By his own decision to leave?
It made absolutely no sense. Ugh, she was so done speaking in riddles.
Just as he leaned in to close the distance between their lips, Elena snapped out of it, pushing him away with all her strength.
Trying to steady himself, Carter reached out and grabbed her wrist on instinct.
Big mistake.
The boat tipped sharply sideways under their weight. Before either of them could grab anything else, they crashed into the freezing lake with a loud splash.
Cold water crashed over Elena’s head, choking out her thoughts before the life jacket popped her right back to the surface. She gasped, blinking away the sting and pushing wet hair from her face.
A few feet away, their abandoned sailboat drifted lazily in the breeze.
The lake water was shockingly freezing, completely defying the sunny July afternoon.
Right on cue, Carter surfaced beside her, shaking his head like a wet dog. He wiped the water from his eyes, took one look at her, and started laughing. Like he honestly could not believe their lives had just brought them to this exact moment.