Chapter 32
KRISTA
From where I sat trapped in gridlocked traffic, I noticed when the hilltop exploded with light. Even through the rain, golden beams shot straight up into the sky in defiance of nature’s fury. It had to be Dash.
The show was happening. He was actually going to try pulling it off. And I’d left him. I ran away when things got complicated and my own fear became too much to handle. I convinced myself he didn’t need me anymore. My job was done and I was fleeing for my own sanity.
“Miss?” The driver turned around to look at me. “The traffic, it’s not moving. Could be another hour, maybe more.”
I stared at those lights. At the challenge Dash was facing on the side of that hilltop. An hour. The show would be over by then. I’d miss everything. I’d miss my chance to tell him I was sorry and tell him I’d been wrong.
“Unlock the doors.”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
I didn’t care anymore. He unlocked the door and I paid him, including a generous tip.
Then I pushed open the door and stepped out into the rain.
It was coming down harder than I’d thought, immediately soaking through my T-shirt and cargo shorts.
Thank god my white bra was very sensible and I wouldn’t be giving any of the locals a show.
“Miss! Your luggage!”
“Take it back to where you picked me up please!” I didn’t look back. My luggage didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting back to the show. Back to him.
My hiking sandals gave me the grip I needed on the wet streets. And Dash had made fun of them. Who was laughing now?
I ran, pacing myself to run a seven-minute mile. The road was steep. Of course it was steep. Everything in Santorini was either up or down. My lungs burned within minutes, but I was in decent shape. All that running and PT and I was using it to save my heart instead of in battle.
Rain streamed into my eyes, making it hard to see.
My feet slipped on the slick cobblestones.
I kept running. Cars honked as I wove between them, jumping onto sidewalks when there was no room on the road.
My hair came loose from its ponytail and whipped around my face.
I probably looked insane. I definitely felt insane.
But I couldn’t stop.
The lights grew brighter as I climbed higher. I could hear music now, something with a driving beat that carried down the hillside. The sound of voices. Applause. The show was in full swing and I was missing it.
I pushed myself harder. My legs were screaming by the time I reached the entrance to the show.
I bent over, hands on my knees, gasping for air.
My chest heaved and my heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst through my ribs and bring the contents of my stomach with it.
Then I looked up and forgot how to breathe for an entirely different reason.
It was magic.
The runway stretched before me, gleaming wet under the golden lights. The illumination caught the rain as it fell, transforming each droplet into a tiny spark. The whole scene glittered and shimmered like something out of a dream. It looked like a scene straight out of Greek mythology.
Models walked through the rain like goddesses.
Their hair was wet, slicked back, or falling in perfect waves.
They were bare-footed, every elegant step across the wet runway creating tiny ripples that reflected the light.
Their makeup was somehow still flawless—bold eyes, glossy lips that caught the light.
And the swimwear. Oh God, the swimwear was stunning.
Gold accents gleamed against jewel tones.
Fabric clung to wet skin in ways that were both sensual and powerful.
The wet crowd was on their feet. Not huddled under umbrellas looking miserable but standing, cheering, completely caught up in the spectacle.
Phones were everywhere, capturing every second.
This wasn’t just a runway show anymore. It was an event.
A moment in time that people would talk about for years.
Dash stood at the edge of the runway watching it all unfold.
I couldn’t look away from him. He was soaked to the bone.
His dark shirt clung to every muscle, plastered against his chest and arms like a second skin.
I knew what those muscles felt like under my fingertips.
His hair was wet and wild, pushed back from his face.
Water dripped from his jaw. He looked nothing like the polished, put-together man I’d first met in Athens.
He looked magnificent. My Dionysus.
His eyes tracked every movement onstage, scanning for problems before they could develop.
A father watching his children, making sure everything ran smoothly.
His brothers stood nearby—Adrian with his arms crossed, Briggs with his head cocked to one side like he also couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
They were watching Dash with expressions I recognized.
Respect. Pride. Maybe even a little awe. They were seeing what I’d seen all along. What I’d been too scared to fully acknowledge. Dash Blackwell wasn’t the family fuck-up. He could turn a rain shower into something iconic.
The final model made her walk, and the crowd erupted.
Applause thundered across the hilltop, mixing with the sound of rain and music.
People were cheering, whistling, screaming their approval.
The energy was electric. These people were soaked, their fancy clothes ruined, and they were loving every second of it.
And then Dash’s focus shifted. His eyes swept across the crowd and landed on me.
I stood there dripping, my clothes clinging to me.
I probably looked like I’d been dragged through a hurricane.
He started walking toward me. The crowd was still cheering, still calling his name with people trying to get his attention.
But he didn’t seem to notice any of it. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he closed the distance between us.
I heard a man’s voice come through the loudspeakers. I glanced at the runway and saw Callum, also shoeless and soaked with a huge grin on his face. He raised his hands and the crowd quieted.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” His voice boomed across the hilltop. “What you just witnessed wasn’t just a fashion show. It was a testament to the power of creativity, adaptability, and sheer determination.”
More applause. Callum was good at this. Really good.
“Blackwell Couture has always been about pushing boundaries. About creating moments that transcend fashion and become art. And tonight, Dash Blackwell showed us exactly what that means.”
He gestured toward Dash, who had stopped a few feet away from me. Dash seemed oblivious to everything around us. His eyes were locked on me. I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me or pissed I had come back.
“This is just the beginning,” Callum continued. “The Blackwell family is expanding our vision. New lines, new experiences, new ways to celebrate the most important moments in your lives. And if what we saw tonight is any indication of what’s to come, you’re all in for something extraordinary.”
It was a perfect segue. Callum was planting seeds for his own launch without stealing Dash’s spotlight. The crowd ate it up.
“So let’s give one more round of applause for Dash Blackwell and the entire team that made this night possible!”
The crowd roared but we were both locked on each other. I couldn’t breathe. Dash was my Greek god in every sense of the word.
“You came back,” he said.
I nodded. I was still trying to catch my breath from the run and then seeing him had stolen what little air I had managed to get back into my lungs.
“Why did you come back?” he asked.
I wiped rain from my face and stared into his eyes.
“Because I’m an idiot. I was wrong.” My voice cracked and I had to start again.
“I’m so sorry, Dash. For everything I said.
For calling you those things. I was hurt and scared and I wanted to hurt you back because that felt safer than admitting how terrified I was. ”
He took a step closer. “Terrified of what?”
“Of this. Of you. Of what I was feeling.” I was suddenly freezing despite the warm rain. “I’ve been in my head this whole time. I convinced myself I was protecting us both, but really I was just being a coward.”
“Why?”
I needed him to understand this was a me thing. But saying “it’s me, not you” felt just a little trite for the situation. “I should have stayed. I should have told you the truth instead of running away like I always do when things get emotionally complicated.”
“What truth should you have told me?” he asked.
I took a shaky breath. “I’m not who you think I am. This version of me is not real. It’s a fantasy I let myself become for a week because it felt good to pretend I could be someone different. You fell for a woman who doesn’t exist.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“It’s not.” I shook my head, feeling tears mix with the rain on my cheeks. “The real me is boring. Dull. One-dimensional. The real me doesn’t know how to exist without structure and control.”
The way he was looking at me was making this speech so much harder.
“I’m a product of my family history,” I continued.
“Generations of military service combined with losing my mother when I needed her most. I learned to survive by building walls and following rules and never, ever letting anyone get close enough to hurt me. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ll always be.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we can’t work when we get back to New York.
This only exists here, in Greece. In this bubble where reality doesn’t apply.
But back home? I’ll smother you. I’ll try to control everything because that’s all I know how to do.
I’ll crush your spirit with my need for structure and predictability. ”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I felt my heart breaking all over again. “I’ve done it before. I had a boyfriend a long time ago. He was fun and spontaneous, and I slowly suffocated him with my routines and my rules until he couldn’t take it anymore. I drove him away. I’ll do the same thing to you.”
Dash stepped forward. My heart pounded impossibly harder. “What if I don’t care?” he asked.
“You should care. You deserve someone who can match your energy, who can be spontaneous and fun and encourage you to do shit like this. We both know I would have told you to shut this down. I would have stopped the magic.”
“What if I want someone who challenges me? Who makes me better? Who sees through all my bullshit and calls me on it?” His eyes were blazing now.
“What if I want you, Krista? All of you. The rigid routines and the control issues and the walls. What if I want to help you tear those walls down instead of running away when they get too high?”
I was dying. I was certain of it. I knew if I looked down, I would see my chest actually cracked open. “Dash, please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”
“You’re the one making this all complicated when it could be very simple.
” He reached for my hand. “You think you’re going to smother me?
I think you’re going to keep me grounded.
You think you’ll crush my spirit? I think you’ll help me focus it into something meaningful instead of scattering it in a million directions. ”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you’re scared. You’ve convinced yourself you’re not worthy of love because you’re not perfect. But here’s the thing, Krista.” He lifted my hand to his chest, pressing it against his heart. “I don’t want perfect. I want real. And you’re the most real thing I’ve ever had.”
A sob escaped my throat before I could stop it.
“This is the best trip of my life. Being here with you, seeing you become the man you were always capable of being, has been amazing. But this love? It has to stay here, in Greece. It has to remain a beautiful memory instead of something we try to force into our real lives.”
“I don’t want that.” His voice was fierce now, almost desperate. “I don’t want a memory. I want you. In New York, in my life, every single day. Sure, it might eventually not work out, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give it a try at all.”
I looked up at him through the rain and tears, memorizing every detail of his face. I wanted to say yes. God, I wanted to say yes more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
But I knew myself. I knew my patterns. I knew that six months from now, when the newness wore off and reality set in, I’d start trying to control him, to fit him into my structured life. And eventually, he’d resent me for it.
Better to end it now, while we still had something beautiful to remember.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Then I pulled my hand from his chest, stepped forward on my toes, and kissed him.
I pulled back. “Goodbye, Dash.”