Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Ready?” Sienna said, gathering everyone and ushering them outside the house so she could lock up.
Blair hooked her arm with Rocko’s and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Tyson followed Sienna outside, telling her something in her ear that made her laugh.
Emily went down the staircase and stood self-consciously next to Will.
Sienna secured the house, and they all made their way off the pristine property to the boardwalk entrance down the road.
The air was heavy with salt and the scent of damp earth.
The path to the boardwalk still bore the beating from the wind and water.
Emily treaded carefully over scattered palm fronds and clumps of seaweed that had made it too far inland for the tide to return them to the Gulf.
Will tried to help her, but—instinctively—she took a step away from him to manage on her own.
Some beachside cottages down the road still had boarded up windows, some with handwritten signs on them reading “Made it through another one!” or “Back soon.” Along the dunes, broken fencing leaned at haphazard angles, whole sections partially swallowed by sand, while crews pounded in new slats.
They all stepped onto the walk that led around the edge of the town, paralleling the water.
The boardwalk itself—that Emily had seen humming with music, vacationers, and the buzz of excitement when they’d first arrived—was quieter now, punctuated only by the creak of loose planks and the occasional hammer from someone doing repairs down the road.
A few vendors had reopened their shops with limited offerings.
Coolers were propped open with free water bottles.
And yet, despite the mess, something about the light felt softer, as if the storm had rinsed it all clean.
Emily couldn’t help but draw a parallel between her time here and how she, too, felt washed, changed in some way.
Rocko turned around and walked backward, facing the group, casting his wide shadow onto the wood in front of them. “Was the storm terrifying this close to the shore?”
“We were cocooned inland,” Blair replied, shielding her eyes to view two seagulls as they squawked overhead. “Luckily, we didn’t have to endure too much.”
“Remember that storm where we were stuck in the car?” Will asked Emily. “We were locked out, and we had to wait until it passed because the rain was coming down so hard we couldn’t see to drive anywhere?”
A pang of nostalgia overtook her. They were so young then. Sitting in that car with him, she’d had no idea what heartbreak he’d bring her.
“Yeah,” she replied. She turned into the wind, facing the Gulf to fight the prick of tears that had come out of nowhere, the last remnants of her grief still emptying out. The waves were calm now, barely lapping the shore.
They’d laughed until their sides hurt in the car that night, as the rain pelted down.
Soaking wet and na?ve, they’d had their whole lives ahead of them.
Now, as she walked next to Will, she didn’t feel the lightness of the memory.
He was trying to draw connections to better times, but his actions fell flat.
The memory didn’t hit the same way. It felt as if something was missing between them that she couldn’t get back.
“I love who we were,” she said, verbalizing the thought. “I don’t think we’re who we used to be anymore, though.”
While she didn’t have herself completely figured out, something was becoming increasingly clear in the mixture of emotions she’d been feeling: Will belonged to a version of herself that no longer existed entirely, someone she wasn’t sure she could ever be again.
And while the old her remained, it was now clear that it had been diluted by her new experiences. She wasn’t the same person anymore.
He didn’t talk after that. Sienna and Tyson filled the silence with chatter about the best vacation investment homes and how, if they ever took the plunge, they’d have to stormproof their investment, and Rocko and Blair stopped along the beach to build a sandcastle.
The whole time, Will was contemplative, quiet.
Emily didn’t try to facilitate conversation.
Truly, she didn’t know what to say to him anymore.
They continued walking, and in the distance, the whine of a lone drill caught her attention.
A boat slip was being repaired. Emily squinted at the guy working, his build familiar.
As they got closer, she realized it was Patrick, sprawled across the top, shirtless, now pounding in something at an odd incline.
Something stirred in her. She quickly assessed her companions, but no one had noticed him.
He didn’t stand out for them the way he did for her.
“Hey, look. The ice-cream shop is open,” Sienna said. “We should get some to eat on the way back.”
The others agreed.
They stopped outside the door to view the menus, all of them focused on the task at hand, but Emily was in her own world with Patrick in her peripheral vision.
In this collection of couples, she didn’t belong anymore.
She was still their friend, but no longer able to pair off seamlessly.
She felt out of place. Almost as if she were in the wrong place.
She’d rather be over there, talking to Patrick.
Will held the door open, and they filed into the tiny space. They all got in line, Emily hanging back near the door, mindlessly taking each step, her attention elsewhere. Rocko, Tyson, and Will went up to the counter, Sienna following behind, and then Blair.
“I think I’m going to stay out for a while,” Emily said to Blair.
Blair’s brows pulled together and her lips parted to say something, but Emily cut her off.
“I’ll catch up,” she whispered. Then she slipped out the door once more, before anyone could protest.
She paced quickly down the boardwalk until she was out of view of the shop. Then she slowed, taking in the sunshine and generally enjoying shedding the burden of Will. She walked over to Patrick. “Whatcha doing?” she called up.
He stopped pounding and peered down at her, that crooked grin surfacing, sending a fizzle of excitement through her.
“Oh, just, you know, hanging around.”
“So this is your idea of that? Manual labor and possible tetanus?”
Stormy was tied on a long leash in the shade. Her attention still on Patrick, Emily went over to the dog and rubbed his head, his tail beating the wooden boardwalk relentlessly, nearly knocking over his water bowl.
Patrick grinned without looking up. “Some people tan. I prefer hauling soaked planks to broken-down boat slips and praying I don’t fall in while I’m fixing them.”
“Very heroic of you. With the cute dog, it looks more like a shirtless calendar shoot.”
His eyebrows raised suggestively and he chuckled.
“You getting any real work done or just working on your tan?”
Patrick paused and wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. “If all I’m doing is tanning, are you volunteering to take the pictures, or just critiquing my nail placement?” he shot back.
“Oh, definitely critiquing. I give you an A-plus for effort.” She laughed.
“That teacher side of you coming out?” He gripped the side of the boat slip’s roof and swung down to stand in front of her.
Stormy’s entire hind end swung back and forth when Patrick came over.
He bent down and played with the puppy, then refilled his water bowl with a cold bottle from his cooler.
He offered her one, but she declined. Then he sunk his hand in the ice and got himself one, uncapping it and pouring it down his throat.
His bare chest glistened in the sun, perspiration trailing down his bicep over his tattoo.
Emily swallowed and tried to still her pattering heart.
He set the bottle down and took her left hand, inspecting it. “No ring today?”
She shook her head. “Definitely not.”
He looked surprised, that now-familiar interest flooding his face.
“You said maybe I just thought things were resolved, but it only took me a night to realize that while things are messy, I’ve moved beyond it. I want better. And to get better, there’s no way I’m going back to my old life.”
His blue eyes searched her face, thoughtful. He nodded toward a nearby surf shop. “Let’s get out of the heat. Follow me.”
Inside, the shop was organized; colorful surfboards, skimboards, and paddleboards in varying sizes lined the walls.
“Remember the guy with me at the bar that night after you and I first met—Mark? This is his shop. He lives upstairs, but he evacuated before the storm and went to South Carolina to stay with his mom. I told him I’d take a look to see if there was any damage.
He gets back tomorrow, so I thought I’d be nice and fix a few loose boards on his boat slip for him.
” He pulled a stool from behind the register and offered it to her. “Just for you.”
“I’ll bet you give all the vacationing girls a stool,” she teased.
He chuckled quietly. “All one of them.”
“We’re headed back home in a couple of days,” she said.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted another stool over his head, walked around the counter, set it down next to hers, and took a seat.
Her phone pinged with a text.
“Sienna’s wondering where I am. I’ll let her know that I’ll find my own way back.” She fired off a quick response that she’d found Patrick and she’d meet everyone at the house in a little bit. Then she turned off the ringer and slid the phone into her pocket.
“Any big plans when you get home to Nashville?” he asked, his words measured, careful.
“I don’t have any plans at all. In fact, I have no idea what I’ll do when I get back. I don’t return to work until the end of August.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do.”