Chapter 16
Kelly
The rest of the day drags, my mind stuck on Jake—his familiar smell, the way the years have built up his body so he’s stronger, broader. The words he spoke to me.
I’m almost glad when it’s time to leave the office, and soon I’m on my bike and pedaling toward my old family home, the air growing colder with every turn of the wheel as dusk settles over the town. The streets are quiet, the sky painted with streaks of orange and lavender as the sun dips below the horizon. By the time I reach the familiar street, the temperature has dropped noticeably.
I lean my bike against the fence and stand there for a long moment, the past wrapping itself around me. The house looks the same as it did the other day, but there’s a light on in the kitchen and living room, and I can see two figures moving around inside behind the gauzy curtains.
“Hey, Mom,” I say quietly. “Today was weird. I never expected to be working side-by-side with Jake. It’s hard being around him again. I thought I could handle it, but it’s hard…”
The words trail off, hanging in the crisp evening air. Admitting it aloud makes it real—too real. I still have feelings for Jake, even after everything. I grip the handlebars of my bike and close my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay focused. I promise. Just like you’d want.”
The wind picks up, a chill sinking deep into my bones, and it’s time to go. I close my eyes briefly, let myself picture her face, and whisper: “Still missing you every day.”
Then I’m back on my bike and pedaling home, whispering promises to myself to stay focused, to do this for Mom. She always told me to keep my eyes on the prize, never to let emotions get in the way. But as I reach Nora’s place, a quiet, nagging thought slips in—why does everything have to seem so damn unfinished with him?
When I finally push through the door of the apartment, I slump onto the couch, emotionally exhausted.
Nora, wine glass in hand, plops down beside me, wriggling her eyebrows. “So... you and Jake spent the day together, huh?” she teases. “I heard you guys are working together. Did you end up sneaking off for another quickie?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Good news travels fast. And no, no afternoon delights. We talked about it and agreed to keep things professional.” I explain the basics, that we’ll have to work together for the festival, but brush it off. “I’m focusing on the event. Nothing else matters.”
Nora takes a sip of her wine, giving me a skeptical look. “So, you’re saying there was no chemistry when the two of you were together?”
A smile tugs at my lips, despite my best efforts, but I swallow it. “Absolutely none.”
Nora looks at me for a long moment, and I can tell she’s not buying it. She nudges me with her elbow. “Jake’s not that bad, you know. He’s a devoted dad, and honestly, I’ve only ever known him to be a good guy—except, of course, for when he ended things with you after the whole baby thing. If there’s still something between you, maybe you should give him a second chance? People change, you know. And that was a hard situation for everyone.”
Her words hit harder than I expect, a sharp spike of pain driving into my chest. I try to bury the ache. “The past is the past, and that’s where it’s going to stay. I’m not getting sidetracked. I came here to do a good job, not repeat old mistakes.”
But as the words leave my mouth, that now familiar what if sneaks into my thoughts. No matter how hard I try to push it away, the question has lingered ever since I saw him on that balcony, since we hooked up in the gardens of the inn like we were teenagers again. When we couldn’t get enough of each other and all I wanted was him, all the time.
Nora narrows her eyes, watching me closely, and takes another sip of wine. “Come on. Be honest with yourself—do you really think you still don’t have feelings for him?”
I sigh, letting my guard slip for a second. “Fine, okay, yes… maybe there’s something still there. I’d have to be dead not to feel something when I’m around him. But it’s not just about that.”
Nora sets her glass down, leaning forward, her expression softening. “Look, I get it. He broke your heart, and that’s not something you just get over. But you’ve both grown up a lot since then, right? And yeah, you’ll be taking a risk if you let him back in—but sometimes that risk is worth it. Maybe you’ll regret giving him another chance, or maybe he’s exactly what you’ve been missing.”
She’s right, and that’s what scares me most. Letting him in again would mean giving him the power to hurt me all over, and that possibility is terrifying.
Nora reaches over, squeezing my hand. “I’m just saying, don’t shut yourself off from something good just because it went wrong once. You owe it to yourself to figure out if what’s between you two is still real.”
She gets up to stir something cooking in the kitchen, while I sit back against the couch. Before I can stop myself, a daydream drifts in. I picture a life where Jake and I never broke up—us still together, maybe in a cozy little house here in Harbor’s Edge.
I close my eyes, letting the image take shape, and it comes alive in vivid detail. In this imagined version of my life, the house is warm and filled with light, nestled on a quiet street just a block from the beach.
There’s a creak to the hardwood floors, the kind that comes with age and character, and the faint smell of sea salt drifts through the open windows. Our morning starts with the soft hum of the coffee machine and a little one padding down the hallway, still in pajamas, tiny fingers clutching a favorite stuffed animal.
I can almost feel Jake’s arm slipping around my waist as we stand together, watching the sun creep higher, his lips pressing a kiss against my temple. In this life, there’s no rush—just the slow, steady beat of a life shared.
I see us on the weekends, chilling on the sofa with our child climbing over us, giggling as Jake pretends to be a monster, growling playfully. And later, on quiet nights, we walk side by side on the boardwalk, watching the lighthouse in the distance, his hand finding mine.
It’s so easy to see it, so natural that for a moment, I could almost reach out and step right into it, claim that simple, perfect love. But it’s not my life, it’s just a reminder of everything we lost.
The image fades, and I’m left with a quiet ache of missing what I never had.