Chapter 28
When my alarm goes off the next morning, I’m already lying awake in bed. I didn’t sleep very well last night. I kept tossing around what Dom had said, shifting back and forth from hip to hip, pillow to pillow. Frustrated that I couldn’t stop his words from playing through my head over and over, wondering if any of this is real to him.
Maybe you’re just different there.
Maybe this place helps you remember who you’ve always been.
Something along the way just made you forget.
I picture Dom sitting on a New York City subway back home. The grayness of winter reflecting in his eyes, instead of flickering firelight and sunsets.
He would be different there too.
On one hand, I’m amazed that he seems to see me so clearly, and so quickly.
On the other hand, I’m not sure I’m ready to face the woman he sees in me, deep down. There’s a painful, tugging feeling emerging in me that, once I let her out, she won’t go away again without a fight. And that’s not a fight I’m sure I can win.
My entire life is back in New York.
But it seems like my entire soul is emerging here.
I toss the covers back and grab my robe from where I left it — draped across my dresser — and cinch it tightly across my waist. Sand crunches under my feet when I walk into the living room, which is not something I’m sure I’ll ever get used to. I’ve already vacuumed the whole place twice, but I can see another round taking over my plans for the day.
My eyes land on the surfboard leaning against the deck railing outside while I wait for my coffee to brew. I forgot Dom had insisted on leaving it there so I could start my day with another mind-clearing round of waves this morning.
I mean, why the hell not?
Dom was right about getting in the water yesterday. If I simply wanted to hide out and write this script, I could have chosen a cheaper location. I can do both.
“She’s calling,” I mutter to Pru, staring out at the ocean. It’s deep blue today, growing into lighter shades of turquoise as my eyes follow a wave all the way into shore. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”
I grin, knowing the call of the waves won’t quiet down until I give in. Might as well go now, before I get in deep with scriptwriting.
* * *
By mid-morning, I’m dripping wet and struggling to walk back up to the rental. The sand is deep and my arms feel like Jell-O after an hour of paddling bigger sets of waves than yesterday. The longboard is like dead weight under my arm so I stop to take a breather, puffing to catch my breath. This was much easier when Dom carried both boards for our adventure yesterday.
He made it look so effortless , I think, falling head first into the memory.
“You want help?” a voice calls out.
Rex is standing at the railing of the townhouse deck, watching me.
“Not really,” I answer stiffly.
He starts moving toward me anyway.
“It won’t take long,” he insists. “We haven’t really gotten the chance to be alone yet anyway.”
Nervous energy shoots through my veins, filling my body with ice as Rex makes his way down the stairs, jogging across the sand to relieve me of the board’s weight. When he reaches me, his eyes crinkle into a genuine smile — the likes of which I haven’t seen in well over a month. I wish Dom was here, softening the blow of having Rex’s full attention back on me again, this time without anything left between us.
We fall in line together. The familiarity between us is there, but deep down I know we’ll never be close again.
“You look really good out on the water.” He says it so casually it makes me angry. I stop walking for the briefest second before falling in line again next to him, fighting the urge to trudge ahead.
“Thanks.” I match his stride. “Your surfing could really use some work. I keep thinking you’re going to drown out there, and I don’t know whether to be happy or sad about that.”
His laughter rattles me. I used to love that sound. Back when I’d do anything I could just to hear it.
“Juju really likes you,” he says, swiftly changing the subject.
“Well, why wouldn’t she?” I ask.
His smile widens, then he glances over at me.
“Smart girl,” he says.
“Very,” I add, smirking.
We take a few more steps before I can’t stand it anymore. I have to ask. “Have you told her about us?”
“What’s there to tell?” He replies so quickly that I nearly stop dead in my tracks.
“What the fuck, Rex?” I demand, refusing to move forward.
He spins around.
He narrows his eyes. “Did you follow me here?” This is the first time we’ve been alone, and this is how he’s going to start the conversation? “Yes or no? You never answered me the other day.”
“Did I follow you ?” I want to smack the question right out of his mouth. My jaw hangs open at the audacity of it. You self-centered asshole. “Let’s see, Rex, did I toss all my money into a burning dumpster fire just so I could fall asleep to the sound of you fucking your new girlfriend across my wall every night? No.”
“Then how did we both end up here?”
“The universe has a shitty sense of humor, I guess.”
He softens. “I miss you, you know.” He shifts his eyes to the sand, away from my face. “I wouldn’t mind finding a quiet time to talk more . . . You know, about what happened.”
The knot in my stomach catapults into a full-blown churn. His wavering emotions are giving me whiplash. I want to wring his neck for telling me that he misses me. The nerve of this man. I have no interest in being the other woman to Juju. Not now. Not ever.
“Don’t say that. You didn’t have to miss me.” I spit each word out like it’s laced with venom. “That’s on you. You didn’t have to say no on live television.”
“And you didn’t have to ask,” he quickly shoots back. Too quickly. Then he takes two more steps away from me toward the house.
I plant my feet and put my hands on my hips, waiting for him to look me squarely in the eye. When he doesn’t, I kick sand at his back so he’ll turn around to face me.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I nearly yell.
Rex had insisted that I was too angry to have this conversation the evening after I’d proposed, when he came to our apartment to pick up all his stuff. And I probably was. So we just left it at that. I figured we’d both take some time to cool off and then have this conversation. But then days turned into weeks, and now here we are. Finally saying what we want to say, thousands of miles from home.
“Were we really ready for marriage?” He drops my board into the sand, looking irate.
“I don’t know.” I can feel rage building in my voice. “Maybe I never should have asked, Rex. Maybe I should have laughed when my producer suggested it. But couldn’t you have said yes in that moment, when the cameras were rolling, and I was live on air in front of millions of people, and spare me from global humiliation? We could have talked about it afterward, even changed the plan. No one had to see that part. I could have taken it all back, if you’d have let me. You didn’t have to completely cut me out of your life that day, leaving me to deal with the fallout alone. What you did left me mortified in front of the world, so no one would ever forget.”
He looks like a volcano, molten lava about to simmer over the edge.
I press him harder. “How could you do that to me?” I take a step toward him. “I thought we were—”
“How could you ?” He interrupts, pointing at me, his eyes burning into mine. Then he takes another step toward me. “You didn’t even ask for my permission before putting our relationship out there for the whole world to see.”
Hot sand digs into my bare feet — I want to run off it, and get away from him. “Why does that matter? How could you move on so fast?” My voice breaks on the last word. “It’s barely even been a month.”
“If we could just get a minute alone,” he says in an even voice. “I could explain, before—”
“Hey, you two!” Juju calls down from the railing. She’s beaming at us from the lanai. A cloud of steam rises off her mug. We both turn and wave, like a puppet master has strings attached to our hands. He smiles broadly at her, pretending we aren’t caught in some ex-lovers’ squabble.
“Why haven’t you told her?” I hiss at him through my teeth, too quiet for her to hear.
“Hey, babe!” Rex calls back to her. I try not to grimace at the word babe .
It makes me want to punch him.
“Not yet,” he whispers back to me, that frozen smile still stuck on his face. “She doesn’t really do social media. She has no idea about us. I’d rather keep it that way for now. Just let me be the one to tell her.”
I walk ahead.
“You’re an idiot if you think she won’t find out,” I whisper loudly at him over my shoulder.
Then I storm back into my side of the townhome, leaving Rex to carry the weight of the board and everything else he’s fucked up.