Chapter 11 #2
Once we pull up to the house, Sav goes to the back of the car to unload her bags. Dayton’s brows scrunch together. He moves to help her, clearly confused. The studio is only big enough for two people.
I let him think about it, not offering an explanation about the sleeping arrangements. I hesitantly told Axel I wanted Sav to stay with me, and he casually told me he had already planned to sleep at a campground with some other surfer friends so they could get up early and catch some waves.
Maybe he wants to break up. He certainly doesn’t seem interested in having sex with me or spending an evening cuddling in bed with me.
In the eight months we’ve spent apart, I haven’t missed him much either.
My fragile self-esteem shrivels down further.
I’ve done a lot of healing work since my ex-husband effectively destroyed my confidence and our marriage.
The way my first marriage ended was annoyingly cliché.
He started sleeping with his secretary on work trips.
Snooze-fest. She was also married, and she had a child.
His phone was connected to his computer, and when I saw the disgusting texts they were sending back and forth, I was stunned and embarrassed.
I had known Andrew wasn’t perfect. I knew we didn’t have a fairy-tale type of love, but it was a passionate relationship. We had gotten married when I was twenty-two—which I now know was far too young—and divorced two years later. I’d always been impressed by his work ethic and drive.
Now that I’m nearing thirty, I’ve learned the ego is an unfortunate symptom that most successful men have. They think because they have money and they’re respected at work that their wives should just stick around and put up with whatever bullshit treatment they dish out.
Hence Dayton’s success in business being more of a red flag than appealing.
If I cared, which I don’t.
“Earth to Summer!” I hear Sav saying.
I blink, clearing the fog of my unpleasant thoughts to focus on her. I somehow walked through the yard and out onto the back deck of the bungalow while my mind was on memory lane.
“Do you want to eat on the beach?” she says.
I nod. “Sure, a beach picnic sounds fun. Let me grab us some towels.”
Dayton is already in the studio, depositing Sav’s bag on the floor. His father was always the perfect gentleman, and he certainly inherited some of those traits.
He grabs a few of the rolled-up striped yellow beach towels I have in a basket in the corner.
He’s wearing a pale blue pinstripe linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with khaki slacks.
His wavy ebony hair has grown out a bit, and the five-o’clock shadow is more than attractive; it’s hot as fuck.
“Just do it already,” he grits out.
I blink up at him. “Do what?”
“Get rid of him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t possibly think this relationship should continue. He’s not even sleeping with you.” He gestures to my cloud-like yellow bed. The king-size bed has a cotton comforter and fluffy, rumpled down pillows strewn all over it with cream-colored muslin blankets draped over the corner.
I fold my arms over my stomach. “Why do you care?”
He shakes his head, looking down at the floor and rubbing his eyes in frustration.
“Let me just explain something to you right now as a straight, red-blooded male. The fact that your boyfriend hasn’t slept in your bed in over eight months is a massive red flag, but that, combined with the fact that he’s here and totally okay with your friend sharing your bed instead of him?
That’s worse than a red flag; it’s disastrous.
And I’m not a gambler, but I’d bet money he’s either gay or he’s cheating on you. ”
“Maybe our relationship is about more than sex.” I lift my chin stubbornly.
Obviously, I agree with him, and I am deeply hurt by the situation. But I’d rather sit here and argue with him all day than admit it.
His chest rises and falls with a steady exhale. “Have you ever had sex with him?”
“That question is incredibly invasive, but, yes, of course I have.”
How dare he ask me that?!
His jaw flexes. “And you think it’s normal for him to not want more?” His eyes darken but remain on my face.
“Who says he doesn’t want more of me?”
My hackles rise at his words. I despise his ability to pick me apart and practically point his finger at my deepest insecurities so casually and to look so damn sexy while doing it.
He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Tell yourself whatever you need to, Cupcake, but this relationship is dead, and that man doesn’t want you.” He emphasizes the last part, twisting the knife already embedded in my gut.
My chest prickles with heat. I clamp my jaw shut, looking up at him with fire in my eyes.
“I don’t need your advice on my relationship.
What was it you said about not having time for a girlfriend?
You don’t have even a remote idea of how this works!
” I raise my voice, almost yelling at him.
“People go through things. People get sad. People date the wrong person sometimes, but love is about sticking it out through the hard times, when everything isn’t sunshine and rainbows!
So, why don’t you shut up and leave me alone! ”
His expression hasn’t changed since I started ranting. He still looks judgmental and annoyed. I spin around on my heel, storming out of the studio and marching down to the beach. Sav and Axel are down there, waiting for me, already digging into their food.
“Can I talk to you, Axel?” I choke out. The tears are threatening to spill down my cheeks, but I force them back.
“Sure,” he mumbles, rising from his crouched position in the sand.
I start walking down the beach, my heart pounding. He sidles up next to me, still eating his burger. Grease drips down his hand. My stomach rumbles, but I must have left my food in the car.
“I think it’s time we talked,” I say after we walk side by side in silence for a few minutes, letting the waves wash over my frayed nerves and calming them slightly.
I hate how good we get along. It’s easy with him. It’s calm and comfortable, but, boy, is it boring. He waits for me to speak again.
“Do you think this relationship has what it takes to keep going?”
“Uh, maybe. I mean, I don’t know? You seem like you want your space right now.”
I turn to stare at him. He’s looking out over the water, blue eyes squinting in the sun.
“You think I’m being distant?”
He shrugs. “You moved here pretty much out of the blue. You’re getting back to the old you, sort of. I get it; you went through a tragedy, so it’s fine. I just thought you needed time to move on before being the fun Summer I had fallen for again.”
“But do you think we should be together? Do you miss me when I’m gone?” I press.
“Yeah, I miss you. I miss hanging out with you, for sure.”
My mouth forms an O for a few seconds before I realize it and clamp it shut. My skin feels tight.
“Hey, look, a whale.” He points his finger in the distance, where a whale tail flips out of the surface.
It’s all suddenly so clear to me. I went for passion the first time around, and I got burned—badly burned.
Third-degree burns with scars on my heart to prove it.
So, when I met Axel, it suddenly felt safe and easy and, ultimately, passionless.
I thought boring was what I needed, but this is worse than boring; it’s fully platonic.
“Axel,” I begin, exhaling and trying to gather my thoughts, “you and I are really, really great friends. You’ve been fun to hang out with for the past three years.
I think … I think maybe that’s all we were ever meant to be …
friends.” I hold my breath after saying it, watching his face for a reaction.
We both stop walking at the same time. After a long pause, his blue eyes find mine. He sighs, shaking his head slightly. “I understand, Sum. Maybe you’re right. Maybe friends is all we were ever meant to be. I care about you though—a lot. I hope this island is healing you.”
Relief floods my system like salt water on an open wound. I finally let the tears spill over my cheeks as I crush him into a hug. He holds my shaky body.
My voice quivers. “I am. I am healing here. I really am.”