Chapter 18 #2
“Oh no, darling,” Victoria says, rising from her chair. “You don’t need to clear the table. Let her handle that. It’s what she’s here for.”
River’s jaw clenches again, but before he can say anything, I speak up.
“It’s fine,” I say, stacking the plates. “I’ve got it. You two should catch up.”
Victoria looks satisfied with this arrangement, but River hesitates.
“I can help—”
“River.” I meet his eyes, trying to convey that I’m okay, that I don’t need him to fight this particular battle right now. “I’ve got it. Really.”
He nods slowly, understanding passing between us. “Thank you for dinner. It was perfect.”
“You’re welcome.”
I carry the plates to the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher, listening to the murmur of voices from the living room. I can’t make out the words, but Victoria’s tone is sharp, argumentative. River’s responses are quieter, more measured.
I’m rinsing the last plate when River appears in the kitchen doorway.
“My mother has decided to retire early,” he says, and there’s something in his voice—frustration, maybe, or exhaustion. “She says she’s tired from the flight.”
I set the plate in the dishwasher. “It’s only eight o’clock.”
“I know.” He leans against the doorframe, running a hand through his hair. “I think she just wants to get away from me before I say something else that challenges her worldview.”
“You stood up to her.” I close the dishwasher and turn to face him. “That was really brave.”
“It didn’t feel brave. It felt terrifying.” He crosses to where I’m standing, close enough that I can smell that woodsy scent I’ve come to associate with him. “I’ve never talked to her like that before.”
“Maybe you should have.”
He looks at me, really looks at me, and there’s something vulnerable in his expression. “Want to go for a walk? On the beach?”
“Now?”
“Why not? I have oceanfront property. Might as well use it.” His lips curve into a small smile. “Besides, I could use some air. And some company that doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly disappointing them.”
The honesty in that statement roots me in place. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
We head through the sliding glass doors in the living room and step out onto the patio. The evening air is warm and salt-tinged, and the sun is starting its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
River leads the way down the wooden steps that connect his backyard to the beach below. We take off our shoes and walk barefoot in the sand. It feels soft under my toes, and the sound of the waves is soothing in a way I didn’t know I needed.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the ocean and feeling the breeze. The beach is mostly empty—just us and the occasional seagull.
“I’m sorry about my mother,” River says finally. “The way she treated you was unacceptable.”
“It’s not your fault.” I step over a piece of driftwood. “You can’t control how other people behave.”
“No, but I can control how I respond to it.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I should have stood up to her earlier. The moment she called you ‘the help,’ I should have shut that down.”
“You did shut it down. Eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t good enough.” There’s frustration in his voice now, directed inward.
“I’ve spent my whole life letting her talk to me like I’m a disappointment, letting her make me feel small and inadequate.
And now she’s doing it to you, and I—” He stops walking, turning to face me.
“I hate it. I hate that she thinks she can treat people like they’re beneath her just because they don’t fit into her narrow idea of what’s acceptable. ”
The passion in his voice surprises me. I’m used to River being patient and kind, but this anger—this righteous fury on my behalf—is new.
“River.” I reach out and touch his arm. “You stood up to her tonight. You drew a line. That matters.”
“It’s not enough.”
“It’s a start.” I squeeze his arm gently. “Standing up to toxic people in your life, especially family, is really hard. I should know. I couldn’t do it with my parents. I just ran away instead of confronting them about how they were treating me.”
He covers my hand with his, and the contact sends warmth up my arm. “You were sixteen and alone. That’s different.”
“Maybe. But we’re both learning the same lesson, I think.
” I look up at him, at the way the setting sun catches the angles of his face.
“Sometimes the people who are supposed to love us unconditionally are the ones who hurt us the most. And sometimes we have to set boundaries with them, even when it’s scary. ”
River’s thumb strokes across my knuckles, and my breath catches. “When did you get so wise?”
“I’m not wise. I’m just speaking from experience.
” I pause, searching for the right words.
“Your mother doesn’t get to define your worth, River.
She doesn’t get to decide whether your documentary is valuable or whether your life choices are valid.
You get to decide that. And from where I’m standing, you’re doing pretty great. ”
His eyes search my face, intense and focused in a way that makes my heart stutter. “You really think that?”
“I know it.” And I mean it. “You’re talented and kind and passionate about your work.
You’re patient with me when I’m being defensive and difficult.
You play Barbies with a little girl like it’s the most important thing in the world.
You stood up to your mother even though it scared you.
” I take a breath. “You’re amazing, River.
And if she can’t see that, she’s the one who’s missing out. ”
The sun is lower now, casting everything in golden light. The waves crash against the shore, and the breeze carries the scent of salt and summer.
River’s hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone with infinite gentleness. “Kiera.”
My name on his lips sounds like a caress, and suddenly I want to show him what him standing up to his mother for me meant to me. I want to show him what I’m feeling right now.
I rise up on my toes and press my lips to his.
He pauses, then his arms come around me, pulling me closer, and he’s kissing me back with a tenderness that makes my knees weak. This kiss is different from the first one. That was impulsive, driven by emotion and need. This is deliberate. Chosen. Real.
His hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my head, and I wrap my arms around his neck. The kiss deepens, becomes more intense, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. He tastes like gochujang chicken and something sweet, and I can’t get enough of it.
I press closer, as heat rushes through me. His other hand is at the small of my back, holding me against him, and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart matching mine.
The world narrows to just this—his lips on mine, his arms around me, the warmth of his body and the sound of the waves and the feeling of being completely, perfectly safe.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. River rests his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed.
“Wow,” he breathes.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out shaky. “Wow.”
He opens his eyes, and they’re dark with emotion I can’t quite name but feel echoing in my own chest. “I’ve wanted to do that again since the moment you kissed me the first time.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?” Hope lights up his expression.
“Yeah.” I smile, my lips still tingling. “Definitely.”
He kisses me again, softer this time but no less meaningful. His lips move against mine with careful precision, like he’s memorizing every detail, and I let myself get lost in it. In him. In this moment that feels both terrifying and perfect all at once.
When we finally pull apart for real, the sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in shades of purple and pink. Stars are starting to appear overhead, and the beach is bathed in twilight.
River takes my hand, threading our fingers together. “We should probably head back before my mother wanders downstairs and wonders where I am.”
“She’s probably asleep already.” But I let him lead me back toward the house anyway, not ready to let go of his hand just yet.
“Thank you,” he says as we climb the wooden steps, our shoes dangling from our fingers. “For tonight. For standing up to my mother. For being here.”
“Thank you for defending me.” I give him a shy smile. “And for giving me mystery ingredients and helping me prepare for the competition and for just... being you.”
He stops at the top of the stairs and lets his shoes drop. He pulls me close again, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m falling for you, Kiera Emmerson. Just so you know.”
The way he says it sends my heart in my throat, and that familiar fear snakes through me.
The fear that tells me I’m not good enough.
That I’m making a stupid mistake. And River will get bored of playing this game with me and realize I’m not the person he thinks I am.
That he will leave me like every other person in my life.
But I force a smile anyway, ignoring the feeling that this all will crumble around me sooner or later.