Chapter 8
POV: AMBER
The pill starts working faster than I expect.
The tightness in my chest loosens.
My breathing steadies.
The yacht still rocks gently beneath my feet, but the panic that had been clawing up my throat slowly fades into something manageable.
Work helps.
It always does.
I push myself upright and step away from the railing, forcing my shoulders back as the investors gather again.
“Shall we continue?” I say, offering them my most professional smile.
One of the ambassadors nods enthusiastically.
“Yes, please. We’d love to hear more about the positioning of the building.”
Alexander glances at me from across the deck.
Just briefly.
A silent check.
Are you okay?
I give the smallest nod.
And just like that, we slip into rhythm.
The one we’ve always had.
I explain the vision for the marina project while the yacht glides slowly along the coastline. The investors listen carefully, occasionally asking questions about the design, the audience we’re targeting, the long-term development plan.
Alexander moves around the deck like he’s conducting an orchestra.
“Drone one, take the wide shot now.”
“Camera three, get the skyline behind them.”
He adjusts angles, gives quiet instructions to the crew, talks easily with the investors when they approach him.
Watching him work is… impressive.
Infuriatingly impressive.
He remembers every name.
Every detail.
“Carlos, shift the drone five degrees left,” he calls.
“Yes, sir.”
One of the ambassadors laughs softly beside me.
“You two make a very good team.”
I smile politely.
“We work well together.”
He studies us both for a moment.
Then his eyebrows lift slightly.
“Are you a couple?”
For a split second the world seems to pause.
I blink.
Alexander blinks.
Our eyes meet.
And something dangerously familiar flashes across his face.
A small, knowing smile.
Because we were.
My stomach flips.
I clear my throat quickly.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “We’re not.”
The ambassador looks surprised.
“Oh.”
Another investor chuckles.
“Well, you should be.”
My cheeks heat instantly.
“You look very good together.”
Alexander’s smile widens slightly.
Of course it does.
I decide the ocean suddenly deserves my full attention.
We continue sailing along the coastline.
And then the yacht begins approaching a place I know too well.
My chest tightens.
The old marina.
It’s smaller than I remember.
Rustic wooden docks stretching into the water, boats tied loosely along the sides, weathered posts worn smooth by years of tide and sun.
But the bones of the place are exactly the same.
The same place where Alexander and I used to sneak out on summer nights.
The same dock where we sat with cheap pizza and even cheaper wine.
The same pier where he first kissed me.
God.
I hadn’t realized how much of our past lived here.
The investors lean over the railing, studying the location.
“This is where the building will go?” one of them asks.
“Yes,” I say automatically.
My voice sounds calm.
Professional.
Even though my heart is pounding.
“It’s an excellent location,” I continue, pointing toward the open stretch of coastline. “The marina will become the centerpiece of the development. Restaurants, shops, ocean views—”
I glance at Alexander.
He’s staring at the dock.
His expression has changed.
Quiet.
Heavy.
He remembers.
Of course he remembers.
Our eyes meet again.
For a second the noise of the yacht disappears.
Just the two of us.
Standing in the shadow of everything we used to be.
I swallow hard and force my smile wider.
“As you can see,” I continue, gesturing toward the shoreline, “the natural landscape makes it a perfect setting.”
The investors nod enthusiastically.
They love it.
They love the vision.
They love the footage Alexander’s team is capturing.
By the time the yacht circles back toward the marina where we boarded, everyone is satisfied.
Hands are shaken.
Plans are discussed.
Alexander gives final instructions to his crew.
“Send me the raw footage tonight,” he says. “We’ll review everything in the morning.”
“Got it.”
The last of the investors leave.
The deck slowly empties.
And suddenly it’s just the two of us again.
We step off the yacht and onto the dock.
The sun is already beginning to dip lower in the sky, painting the ocean gold.
We walk back toward the hotel in comfortable silence.
The town is lively now.
Surfers carrying boards.
Music drifting from beach bars.
The championship energy filling every street.
I glance at him after a few minutes.
“Thank you.”
He looks over.
“For what?”
“For earlier.”
I gesture vaguely toward the ocean behind us.
His expression softens slightly.
“I’m glad I was there.”
The quiet sincerity in his voice makes something tighten in my chest again.
We reach the hotel a few minutes later.
And of course—
The receptionist looks apologetic the moment she sees us.
“I’m so sorry,” she says immediately. “No cancellations yet.”
I close my eyes briefly.
Of course.
Alexander doesn’t even look surprised.
“It’s okay,” he says calmly. “We’ll manage.”
I sigh and grab my bag.
The room is exactly the same as we left it.
Too small.
Too familiar.
I pull my dress over my head and freeze immediately.
The thin fabric of the nightgown underneath is… extremely transparent.
Oh my God.
I stare down at myself in horror.
“I can’t wear this.”
Alexander looks up from where he’s setting his phone on the dresser.
His eyebrows rise.
I gesture helplessly at the nightgown.
He studies it for a moment.
Then laughs softly.
“I could lend you a shirt.”
I stare at him.
“I don’t see how that would be better.”
He tilts his head slightly, pretending to think about it.
“You’re right.”
His gaze drifts slowly down my body and back up again.
“Actually, that might be worse.”
My mouth drops open.
“You cannot say things like that.”
He chuckles and pulls a shirt from his bag, tossing it toward me.
“Relax. Go change.”
I grab it quickly and disappear into the bathroom.
The shirt is enormous on me.
Soft.
And it smells like him.
Warm.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
I close my eyes for a second before pulling it over my head.
When I walk back into the room, Alexander is sitting on the edge of the queen bed.
His gaze lifts.
And stops.
It travels slowly from my bare legs to the oversized shirt draped over my body.
Then up to my face.
His jaw tightens slightly before he looks away.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes.”
We both lie down a few minutes later.
Him on the queen bed.
Me on the narrow single.
The lights are off, but the soft glow of the ocean outside filters through the curtains.
I stare at the ceiling.
“Alexander?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He’s quiet for a moment.
“For what this time?”
“For today. For remembering.”
The silence stretches between us.
Then his voice comes quietly through the darkness.
“I never forgot anything about you.”
My throat tightens instantly.
I swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes.
“Goodnight,” I whisper quickly.
“Goodnight, Amber.”