Chapter 27
The sand is hot beneath my feet as I step onto the beach, my legs unsteady after hours on the water or from everything else. The wind is quieter now, as if the island is holding its breath.
Brody stands near the water’s edge, his uninjured arm wrapped across his chest, his shirt discarded on the ground next to him. He looks every inch the confident guy I once fell for, but the tight line of his jaw betrays the tension underneath. I can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or both.
Nate is behind me; his presence is impossible to ignore. He’s taken off his wetsuit partway, the top half hanging loose around his hips, and his skin glistens in the late afternoon sun. He’s quiet, as if even he knows this is a moment a person can’t joke their way out of.
“Brody,” Jamie says, drawing the attention of both brothers to her. “We need you for a few quick clips before we wrap up for the day.”
“Now?” Nate asks.
Jamie’s brow pinches in confusion. “Yes, today’s the last day to get what we need.”
“Right.” Nate looks between Brody and me, assessing if he should leave us.
“Go,” I say, knowing he needs reassurance. After swimming with sharks, I could handle Brody. “I’ll be fine with your brother.”
Nate hesitates, then follows Jamie up the beach to wherever they’ll be filming. Though it’s not forever, it’s hard to watch him walk away.
“Abigail, we should talk,” Brody says once Nate and the crew are out of sight.
My chest feels tight, and not only from the wetsuit. “What about?”
“Us.”
“There is no us. Not anymore.” I cross my arms over my chest, partly because of my still-damp wetsuit but mostly because I need something to hold while Brody paces in front of me.
Brody’s eyes flicker, their usual crisp gray clouded as if he’s holding back words too heavy or too loaded to speak.
When his eyes meet mine, they don’t soften; they harden—steel trying to withstand pressure.
Underneath, there’s something almost imperceptibly fragile, like this man who’s proven invincible across all his excursions and breakups is about to crack.
That, even unintentionally, Nate and I each played a role in bringing him down.
Brody scrapes a hand over his face, trying to extract whatever words he’s searching for. “I made a mistake, Abs,” he says, stopping in front of me. “It was stupid to keep things from you. I know that now.”
My fingers press into my arms, and I swallow hard. “Brody, you broke…” What? My heart? Me? “You broke us.”
Though, if we’re being fair, it took both our efforts.
I clear my throat and continue, my voice coming out steady enough, thank goodness. “You can’t just show up and expect things to go back to the way they were.”
“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “But what about what we have?”
“I’m not sure what’s left.” We don’t have trust—not after Jamie, and not after Brody learned what happened with Nate. So, what’s left? “Aside from work.”
His face scrunches. “Abigail, if there’s no us…” he pauses, but I know he’s thinking, if you choose Nate. “If we’re really over,” he starts again, “we can’t work together.”
“Sure we can! Nothing needs to change between us professionally.” I’m trying to sound firm and decisive. Instead, I sound like I’m begging my last client to stay with me. Which, I am.
Brody gives an exasperated sigh. “Of course it does!”
“What, so you only worked with me because you wanted to date me?”
“No, I did it because you’re fantastic, and it’s just a matter of time before everyone else realizes it.”
I warm at the compliment before the confusion sinks in. “Then I don’t understand. We can make this work professionally.”
He shakes his head. “You’ve always been good for me, my brand, and the show. But if we’re not together…if you’re choosing to be with Nate, I wouldn’t be most important to you anymore.”
“Brody, you’ll always be important to me. You’ve believed in my work as much as I do, pushed me outside of my comfort zone, and given me something more precious than I could ever fully explain. In a way, you gave me Sarah for a little longer. You don’t know how much I needed that.”
“Sarah?”
I nod, fighting back tears for Sarah and what I’m realizing is another inevitable goodbye.
“She was my cousin and best friend. More like a sister, really. She was taken from this world far too soon. I’ll tell you all about her someday, but for now, just know her most lovable traits are some of the same ones I’ve always seen in you. That’s a gift I never expected.”
There’s a long pause, then a far too simple question. “But it’s not enough?”
“I don’t think so. Not anymore,” I admit when that’s all there’s left to say.
“Wow,” Brody says on a loud exhale. His uninjured hand flies to the back of his neck as he turns in a small circle, as if needing to expel a bunch of energy.
I’m about to say something to try salvaging whatever is left of our relationship when I see someone running across the beach. Nate.
He hasn’t been gone long, but my heart still soars at the sight.
As he gets closer, he’s looking at me like he’s struggled to stay away, desperately wanting to see if I’ll choose him.
It makes everything in my chest feel lighter.
Until Brody follows my gaze to Nate, who slows to a walk.
The palpable tension between all of us grows as Nate draws closer.
“Abigail and I need time to talk. Alone,” Brody says, his expression twisting into something that says you’re not supposed to be here for this.
When Nate finally speaks, it’s only to me. “I wasn’t sure...” He trails off, but I don’t need to hear the end of his sentence to know what he means. Ever since Fiji, he’s been here for me.
My heart pounds as Brody looks between Nate and me, then reaches for my hand.
His fingers brush mine. “Abigail, please. Let’s just try again. We’ve always worked well together.”
The only thing I feel is a flash of irritation because Brody never really saw me.
He saw someone who could fit into his career and brand.
Another tool at his disposal. Nate, though, sees all my messy, complicated, hidden corners.
The person who struggles with open water, cries over a lost locket, and has done nothing as brave as the excursions we’ve conquered here together.
Still, he’s been by my side this entire time in Fiji, making sure I know how much I mean to him.
I pull my hand away and let out a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry, Brody.” My voice is softer. “I wanted us to work for so long I, too, overlooked that everything with us was about the work. Your brand and career, and now mine. I want more, and I’m not sure that’s something you ever had it in you to give. ”
His face falls, and I almost want to take it back because I know what it feels like to have a heart broken. But Nate takes a step forward, as if he can’t help but be drawn to me.
Brody’s features twist. “You’re really choosing him? Over me?” There’s an echo of last night in his question—of Nate asking if it was crazy to think someone would choose him over Brody.
It kills me to hurt Brody in this way, but denying Nate would hurt so much more.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “I am.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the distance between Nate and me. My fingers find his, and it’s like stepping into the sunlight after nearly drowning in the ocean’s depths. He grips me, his gray eyes shining, and I know I’ve made the right choice. I squeeze his hand back.
Brody mutters something under his breath—a curse or a goodbye—but I don’t hear it. I’m losing myself in Nate’s smile, the one that’s so bright because I chose him. I rise on my toes and press my lips to his.
Nate’s lips are warm against mine but restrained with Brody looming over us. For a second, though, the world blurs into nothing. It’s just Nate and me in this tropical paradise or even the world.
“So, this is it?” Brody asks, his question barely a whisper in the background. “This is the choice you make after everything we’ve been through together?”
I’m certain Brody’s question is for me, and that it’s rhetorical because the answer is obvious. Nate and I have chosen each other. There is no other choice.
Nate pulls back, his fingers trembling where they still hold mine.
I’m blinking up at him, breathless, waiting for the smile to come back to his face—the one that says I made the right decision.
Instead, I see something else in Nate’s expression.
The way Brody’s question is for him, and how it’s making him rethink everything.
Nate’s eyes dart to Brody, whose jaw is clenched so tight I swear I hear his teeth grinding.
“Nate,” I whisper, but something is wrong. “Gnat?”
Nate doesn’t respond. He just stares at his brother.
Brody’s face is a war of emotions I’ve never seen before.
Betrayal and something sharper, like my kiss with Nate has slashed open a wound that might never heal.
And Nate is still looking at Brody, not at me, as if he’s just now registering what we’ve done to his brother and can’t believe he played a part in wielding the weapon.
A chill creeps into my bones as I grip Nate’s hand tighter, but I already feel him slipping away. “Gnat, it’s okay. You don’t have to…”
It doesn’t matter how that sentence ends, because Nate steps back as if my touch burns. Like we’re not standing on the edge of something beautiful, but on the brink of a cliff that’s crumbling beneath us.
Like this risk was one we never should have taken.
Nate tugs the ponytail from his hair, running a hand through his locks as if reminding himself who he is—and who he’s not. When his eyes finally meet mine, they’re filled with a mixture I can’t quite name. Regret, longing, and something that makes my heart plummet.
“I can’t, Abigail.” His voice is low, almost breaking.
“What?” The word is a knife in my throat, but I continue.
“What do you mean you can’t?” After the fire-dancing show, the lagoon and the morning after, the shower, paddle boarding, our picnic for two, and everything else in Fiji we pretended was for the sake of the cameras, how could Nate choose anything different? Not choose us?
Nate faces Brody, whose uninjured arm is crossed so tightly across his chest that his knuckles are white. Nate’s shoulders sag, and his voice is a thread. “Brody, I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I swear.”
“But you meant for it to happen?” Brody spits back.
“No, it was an accident.”
“Stop!” I hate the crack in my voice, but I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Stop talking to him and talk to me, Nate.”
“He’s read my books,” Nate whispers to no one in particular, as if that explains anything.
“I’m reading your books,” I offer, realizing then that the books aren’t the point.
The point, if there is one, is not for me to understand. It’s for Brody and Nate. The push and pull between them as brothers and twins.
The tug-of-war I’ve gotten lost in.
“Bro, you’re family,” Nate says. “I can’t lose you over this.”
Brody’s eyes are hard gray stones. “So, we’re supposed to do what? Pretend this didn’t happen? Pretend you didn’t steal her from me?”
“No, but we could get through this.” There’s a plea in Nate’s voice, and it’s not directed at me.
“Not with you two together, flaunting whatever this is in front of my face. What will my fans think? What about our family and friends?” The questions are loaded grenades none of us dare to touch, but somehow Nate knows what must be done.
Nate swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as he turns to me.
His expression is filled with so much pain I feel it like a punch to my chest. “Abigail, I…” His voice cracks, and he runs a hand over his face, as if he’s trying to wipe away whatever he’s feeling.
“I want this. God, you have no idea how much. But I can’t do this to him.
Not to my brother. Not after everything we’ve been through. ”
I take a step back, my legs wobbling. This can’t be happening. Minutes ago, I chose him. Chose us. Now he’s choosing Brody?
“You’re throwing this away?” My voice shakes, tears blurring my vision, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “Nate, you can’t just…after the other night? You can’t?—”
“I have to,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. He reaches for me, then pulls back as if touching me again will break him. “If I don’t, I’ll lose him. And losing him is like losing a piece of myself.”
“And losing me?” The question scrapes out of my depths where I should have kept it hidden. I already know the answer because it’s etched on Nate’s face. The pain when he looks at me, and the silent, hopeful plea when he looks at his brother.
If I was ever a part of Nate the way he’s become a part of me, I’m the piece he’s willing to give away. The sacrifice he won’t hesitate to make if it means keeping Brody.
All day, I thought I was the one with the impossible choice. Turns out it was never really mine to make.
“Abigail,” Nate pleads, his eyes desperate. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
I try to find the right words, but they catch in my throat like shards of glass.
Brody shifts, breaking the tense silence. Something flickers in his eyes—not just anger, but relief. Because Nate chose him.
Maybe that’s all he wants now. Not me. Just to win.
I swallow back the bitterness, tears burning in the back of my eyes. “I get it,” I say to Nate, though only part of me does and all of me wishes I didn’t. “You’ve made your choice.”
Nate flinches as if I’ve slapped him, and I hate how it still hurts to see him in pain.
But I can’t stand here on the brink of paradise and pretend it isn’t gutting to watch Nate choose his brother after I chose him, no matter how much deeper their relationship runs.
As a writer, he should have seen the same happy ending I did for us. If he ever did, he’s already let it go.
I take a shaky step back, then another, before I turn and run. Away from the water, the beach, and the brothers.
After all the feats I’ve conquered in Fiji, this one is by far the hardest.
Neither Bannam follows me.
I keep running anyway.