Fourteen
ELISE
Having the kids with me in Seaglass Beach makes it easier to avoid Smith.
It’s too dangerous for them to be at the beach house with all the renovation going on, so I spend most of my time at the Inn, playing in the pool or on the beach.
Smith texts me, asking about dinner, but I use the kids as an excuse.
Even though I want to see him, I know it will only make things harder between us.
Smith doesn’t deserve that — and neither do I.
Finally, Saturday rolls around and it’s time to head back to Atlanta.
“We have to make one quick stop at the beach house before we leave,” I say, loading the last of the luggage into the car. Neither kid responds, both of them already engrossed in their electronic devices. Ah, technology…
As I drive to the house, a wave of nausea rolls over me. I hate this. I don’t want to go back to Atlanta. And I definitely don’t want to do what I’m about to do.
But it’s for the best.
I pull into the driveway, parking behind a shiny dark Mercedes. A young, attractive blond woman waves, and I plaster on a smile.
Play nice, Elise.
“Kiddos, head around the house to the beach, but don’t go into the water. This won’t take long.”
Cami and Colton bolt out of the car and run toward the beach.
“Hey! Elise, right? I’m Kayla, so great to finally meet you.” She gives my forearm a squeeze, and my gut roils.
“Thanks for coming over on a Saturday. We’re heading back home today, but I wanted to give you a quick tour, explain all the renovations so you can give me a better estimate of the home’s value.”
“Super. Let’s do it.”
Kayla teeters behind me in her sky-high stilettos as I explain the exterior changes we’re making. “New banisters, fixing the wobbly steps, repairing the shutters, and of course, fresh paint.”
“All great choices,” Kayla says, her blond head bobbing.
We step inside and the scent of wood, sea salt, and Smith hits me, a sharp pang jabbing me in the chest. I missed that smell, his smell, and it’s only been two days. How am I going to live the rest of my life without it?
I shove the thought away, instead concentrating on the renovation plans. “We took the upper cabinets down and opened up the space. We’re installing new white cabinets, upgrading all the appliances, refinishing the floors, and upgrading to hurricane-proof windows.”
“Perfect. Just what homeowners are looking for. And the view’s spectacular.” Kayla gazes out the sliding glass door at the bright blue ocean. I wave at Cami and Colton and they wave back.
“So great for families to be able to sit on the deck and watch the kiddos play. Why are you selling again?” Kayla raises a perfectly shaped brow at me.
“Wait—what?” A deep voice echoes through the room and I spin around.
Smith stands in the doorway, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.
Shit. Why do people keep showing up here unannounced?
“Um…” I stammer, biting down hard on my bottom lip.
“Give us a sec, would you please, Kayla?” Smith asks, his tone stern.
“You bet. I’ll grab the paperwork from the car.” Kayla clip-clops across the living room, the screen door banging shut behind her.
“What’s going on, Elise? You’re really selling this place? Were you even going to tell me?” Smith’s eyes are wide with hurt.
“Yes, of course,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He steps toward me, but I stand rooted to my spot.
I don’t trust myself near this man—it’s all I can do to not reach out and touch him, if only to make contact for a split second.
But that would be wrong, so instead I shove my hands deep into my pockets and stare at the floorboards.
Anywhere but at his sad, beautiful face.
“You’re leaving town, then. Were you even going to say good-bye?”
“Yes, I’m leaving. It’s for the best.”
“Dammit, Elise. Why do you keep saying that? Like you know what’s best for me and I don’t have a clue?” His fists clench by his side, anger flashing in his eyes.
“It’s too much, Smith. I don’t want to hurt you.” I reach out to him, but he backs away, just out of reach.
“I can handle myself, thanks. But you obviously don’t care about whatever we have —had — between us.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper, my voice wavering as tears fill my eyes. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.
“Here’s the paperwork,” Kayla sing-songs as she trots in, oblivious to the thick tension in the air.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Smith says, backing away. He stops at the door and glances at me over his shoulder. “You’re making a mistake.”
Then the door slams shut and Smith is gone.
Kayla’s unfazed. “He’s wrong about that. The market in Seaglass Beach is hot. Hotter than ever. Now’s a great time to sell.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the mountain of paperwork from her. “I’ll look this over and get back to you.”
“Don’t sleep on it too long. I think I have a buyer.”
Even though this should be good news, my heart sinks.
Smith is gone and, despite my best efforts, I hurt him anyway.