Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
PRESENT DAY
Madeline
I turn my face toward the sun in the hopes of dragging myself back to the present. It’s not a bitter February day, and I’m not seventeen years old. The horror of Adam’s death is behind me. I spent my childhood in this water, nothing is threatening me now except my memories.
But another wave slams into me, and as I struggle for solid footing, my heel lands hard on a seashell.
I pitch sideways into the water, and the cold steals what’s left of the air from my lungs.
I’ve completely given up on my dress, and the fabric swirls around me.
I fight my way free, but the current grabs hold and yanks me under.
Move. Get on your feet. But I can’t. I used to be a strong swimmer, but that was a lifetime ago. I’m frozen in this water like I was frozen the night Adam disappeared. I close my eyes and see the flashing lights, hear the high-pitched sirens mingle with my voice screaming Adam’s name.
Just as the next billowing wave crests over me, two strong hands wrap around my upper arms, pulling me to my feet.
My eyes fly open. Whoever my rescuer is, he’s towering over me.
Broad shoulders block the sun as my eyes focus on the open V of a half-zipped black wetsuit, revealing saltwater droplets rolling down golden skin.
Another ocean swell shoves me in the midsection, but my rescuer spins me around, putting his body between me and the relentless surge, securing me against him.
His deep, gentle voice tells me to breathe.
And the next thing I know, he’s lifting me off my feet.
I open my mouth to tell him I’m okay, I can walk, but I’m still shaking, still breathing hard, and so relieved to be out of the frigid water.
Heat radiates from the hard planes of his chest, and I lean in for warmth as he carries me effortlessly to shore.
When he’s standing solidly in the sand, he slowly lowers me to my feet, keeping one strong arm wrapped around my back. “You still look a little shaky. Take all the time you need.”
I breathe in, slowly filling my lungs with air.
As my heart rate slows, mortification seeps in, and a flush spreads across my cheeks.
I grew up in these waves, and I can’t believe I had to be rescued.
I stare at the zipper of his wetsuit, unable to meet his eyes.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what came over me out there. ”
“Those waves can take people by surprise,” he says, so close that his chest vibrates against me.
I know I should step back, but I’m still feeling shaky, and my sopping dress is tangled around my legs. I don’t want to humiliate myself further by falling over.
“I’ve got you,” he assures me. Something about his voice has my thoughts drifting back to my teenage years, but not in a traumatic way this time. The low timbre soothes and comforts me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, finally lifting my gaze to his.
His blue eyes connect with mine, and my chest seizes.
They’re the color of aquamarine and the sky and robin’s eggs, but that’s not why they’re familiar.
I’ve seen those eyes in my dreams about a million times over the past ten years.
My breath catches as I take in the rest of the man’s features.
His wavy mahogany hair, the straight bridge of his nose, that strong jaw with just a hint of stubble.
The rescue workers told us Adam died in the frozen river, and his was body swept away by the current. But if that’s true, who is this man holding on to me with a face that is the mirror image of the love of my life?
I reach out a shaking hand. “Adam? Is it you?”