Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
TESSA
The walk from Sunset Siesta left me unmoored. The late-morning sun beat down, but I hardly registered it. My swimsuit was still damp, and my hair was a tangled, salt-stiff mess. None of it mattered.
All I could see was the look on Braden’s face when we surfaced—the joy, the peace, the way he’d touched my cheek like I was something precious. That single, perfect moment had cracked something open inside me that I’d been desperately trying to keep sealed.
Being with Braden felt like coming home. And that terrified me.
I finally reached my beige box. A shower was non-negotiable. I needed to wash away the salt and the lingering sensation of his hands on my waist. But as the hot water pounded my shoulders, I couldn’t wash away the question that had been building for weeks.
What if I stayed?
The thought was contrary to every plan I’d ever made. Abandon the career I’d spent twelve years building? Walk away from the exact opportunity I’d worked toward my entire adult life? It was absurd. My parents would be devastated.
So why couldn’t I dismiss the thought?
I spent the rest of the day underwater with Zane while Kaia stayed above on Seahorse. I was meticulous and got every sample I needed, but all I could think about was how cold the tropical water felt without Braden next to me. I trudged home for the second time that day and took another shower.
I was towel-drying my hair when my phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. My mother’s face lit up the screen.
I stared at it for a moment, the steam from the shower curling around the device. I swiped answer. “Hi, Mom.”
“Tessa, sweetheart! We were just sitting here having a glass of wine and talking about you.” Her voice was warm, bubbling with an affection that made my throat tight.
“Your father was just saying how proud we are that you got that application in. Dr. Albright mentioned to him that your proposal was inspired.”
Sudden, sharp guilt pricked at me. “That was very kind of Dr. Albright to say. But it’s just an application, Mom. A lot of brilliant people applied.”
“Oh, stop being so modest. You deserve it.” Her tone softened, losing its usual edge of expectation and replaced by something genuinely tender. “I know you work hard, Tessa. But this will all be worth it in the end. You’re an absolute marvel, and we love you so much.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I know, Mom. I love you guys too. You’re both the leaders of my personal fan club.”
“We’re looking at flights,” she continued breezily. “We want to come see you before you wrap up there. Maybe be there to celebrate the good news when it comes?”
“That… that would be great,” I said, gripping the edge of the granite counter. “Just let me know when so I can carve out some free time.”
“Oh, it won’t be a long visit. And we’d never get in the way of your research. We just miss you, honey.”
“I miss you guys too.” And I did. The three of us were a unit. The problem was I was starting to see another person in that unit too.
We hung up a minute later, and I stared at my reflection in the fogged mirror.
Mom sounded so happy. So certain of the straight line from where I was to the Great Barrier Reef.
But looking at myself, all I saw was a fracture running right down the center of me.
One half was the daughter they were so proud of, the one on the cusp of everything she was supposed to want.
The other half was the woman who had spent the morning in a hidden grotto, realizing that ambition was a cold substitute for home.
I couldn’t stay in this townhouse a second longer. The silence was suddenly suffocating. I needed to talk to Braden. Not to make declarations, but to admit that I was being pulled apart.
Dressed in simple jeans and a soft green T-shirt, I grabbed my keys. It was almost six. He’d be at Tidal Hops.
I pushed through the door before I could lose my nerve.
The brewpub was bustling. A couple sat at a corner table sharing a flight of beers.
Braden stood behind the bar, his back to me as he restocked glasses.
Dressed in a Tidal Hops polo shirt and cargo shorts, his hair was neat, and his broad shoulders carried a case of pint glasses with ease.
He looked so good it caused a physical ache inside me.
He turned, his expression shifting from professional courtesy to genuine pleasure. “Tessa. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know. I just…” I crossed to the bar, suddenly uncertain. “Do you have a minute?”
His gaze sharpened. “Maria, can you cover the bar?” he called over his shoulder, then came around to my side. “Let’s go to my office.”
I followed him down a short hallway to a small, tidy office. He closed the door, and the sudden quiet made my pulse spike.
“What’s going on?” he asked, leaning against his desk. “You look like you’re about to tell me something I won’t like.”
“No, it’s not bad. It’s just…” I struggled for the right words. “Today. The dive. It… woke me up.”
He cocked his head. “How so?”
“I realized that in California, I spend eighty percent of my time writing grant proposals and navigating departmental politics. My work is theoretical. But here? I’m protecting an ecosystem for generations. I’m building something real.”
He nodded slowly, his expression intent. “And that scares you.”
“It scares the shit out of me,” I admitted. “Because the career path I’ve been on—the prestigious position, the accolades, the Great Barrier Reef—is the definition of success that has framed my whole life. But I’m starting to question if it’s actually my definition.”
Braden’s expression shifted, a flicker of cautious hope in his eyes. He pushed off the desk and took a step closer. “What are you saying, Tessa?”
“I’m saying I don’t know anymore.” My voice cracked on the last word and I cleared my throat. “I thought I had a clear trajectory. But being here, doing this work, being with you… I’m questioning it all.”
“Come here.”
He opened his arms, and I stepped into them without hesitation. His embrace was solid and grounding. I pressed my face to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“It’s okay not to have all the answers,” he said into my hair. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
“But I’ve always had answers. I’ve always known what was next.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” His arms tightened. “Maybe you’ve been so focused on the next step that you forgot to ask if you even liked the direction you were walking.”
The words hit deep. I pulled back slightly to look at him. “You sound like you know exactly what this feels like.”
“I do.” His smile was wry. “I’m the guy who turned away from a solid future as part of the family resort structure to brew beer in a garage. People told me I was throwing away a secure future. I chose the risk because I wanted to build a life, not just a resume.”
The distinction struck me hard. A life, not just a resume.
“The Great Barrier Reef opportunity is real,” I said, needing to be honest. “Dr. Albright basically told my dad my application was at the top of the pile. I can’t just ignore it.”
Disappointment flashed across his face, but he nodded. “I know.”
“But for the first time…” I paused, the words feeling dangerous. “I’m also thinking about what staying might look like. Even if I don’t know how that would work.”
The change in his expression was immediate. Unguarded hope flooded his features. His hands came up to frame my face. “You’re thinking about staying?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I clarified quickly. “I haven’t decided anything. I’m just… considering possibilities I never let myself consider before.”
“And that’s enough.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my lips.
I kissed him then, a desperate, searching kiss that was easier than explaining the tangled mess of my thoughts. When we finally pulled apart, his eyes were dark.
“Come to my place for dinner. Please. Let me cook for you.” His invitation was simple, but the message was clear.
Stay with me. Let this be real.
“But the brewpub…” I glanced toward the door. The low hum of conversation from the front of the house had picked up. “It’s the start of the dinner rush. Can you just leave?”
A slow, charming smile spread across his face. “The owner can be an ass sometimes, but I think he’ll let this one slide.” He squeezed my hand. “Let me talk to Maria real quick, then we can get out of here.”
The ease with which he prioritized me, prioritized us, brought a smile to my face. “Lead on.”
We left through the back entrance, his hand warm in mine.
The sun was setting as we drove to his cottage, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.
In his kitchen, he moved with confidence, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.
I perched on a bar stool with a glass of excellent wine he’d opened while he chopped vegetables and seasoned fish with the same focus he brought to brewing.
We fell into an easy conversation about the conservation center’s progress, but as we ate perfectly seared mahi-mahi, the conversation turned serious again as I told him about my mom’s call.
“She called right before I came here. She was sweet. Proud. Talking about how much I deserve the fellowship. She even mentioned they want to come visit me here soon.”
Braden paused, the bottle hovering for a split second as he picked it up. His expression was unreadable, carefully neutral. He refilled both our glasses. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
I didn’t have the bandwidth to decode his reaction right now—I had enough to worry about—so I just pressed on.
“It should be. But I hung up the phone and felt like I was splitting in half.” I looked up at him.
“They’re not villains, Braden. They love me.
They genuinely believe this fellowship is the key to my happiness.
When she talks about it, she sounds so certain.
And when I’m with you, or working on the Center, I feel certain.
But they are two completely different certainties, and they can’t coexist.”
“And you’re afraid if you choose one, you lose the other.”
“I’m afraid if I choose one, I lose myself. Or at least, the version of myself I’ve spent thirty years trying to be.” I set down my fork. “I wouldn’t be where I am without them. But sometimes I wonder if I’m chasing their dream or mine.”
“Do they know you feel that way?”
“No. They see the awards and the titles and think I’m happy. And I thought I was.” I looked at him. “But I’m realizing that accomplished isn’t the same thing as happy. You seem happy, Braden. Genuinely happy.”
“I am,” he said, his gaze steady. “But it took a long time to get there. It took realizing that success isn't about how many people are impressed by you. It's about how you feel when you wake up in the morning.”
I smirked. “Easy for you to say. You built all this.”
“And you can build whatever you want, Tessa. That's the point. You're not trapped.”
“What if I stay and it’s the wrong choice?” I asked quietly. “What if I give up the Reef and regret it? Or what if I leave and regret that?”
“You’re asking the wrong question.” He reached across the table and took my hand. “The question isn’t what you might regret. It’s which choice feels true to who you are right now. Not who you were at seventeen, or who your parents want you to be. Who you are.”
“And if I don’t know who that is yet?”
“Then you keep asking until you do.” His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. “You don’t have to have all the answers tonight, Tessa. You have time.”
Later, we lay in his bed, bare skin pressed together. My head rested on his shoulder as he gently stroked my hair in a lulling rhythm. He’d left the window open, and crickets chirped in their nightly chorus.
“Tessa?” His voice was soft, hesitant.
“Yeah?”
“When you said you’re thinking about what staying might look like…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Did you mean staying in Dove Key? Or staying with me?”
The question was heavy with implication. He was giving me an out, a chance to clarify and protect us both from assumptions. I should have taken it. Should have explained that I was still figuring things out, that I was terrified of letting him believe in a promise I didn’t know if I could keep.
But looking into his blue eyes and seeing the hope and fear warring there, I couldn’t shatter the moment.
“Both,” I whispered. “I’m thinking about both.”
The smile that broke across his face was radiant. He cupped my cheek and kissed me tenderly—soft, reverent, and full of unspoken promises. His hope was tangible, and I couldn’t bring myself to diminish it with reminders of reality.
As his breathing deepened and steadied, the voice of doubt returned. I hadn’t decided to stay. I was only questioning whether I should leave. Those weren’t the same thing. And sweet, hopeful Braden was hearing certainty where I’d only offered confusion.
The misalignment worried me. Because I could see exactly how this would end—with one of us heartbroken and the other drowning in guilt and fear for the choice not made.