Chapter 9
POV: AMBER
I wake slowly.
For a moment, I don’t remember where I am.
The sound of waves reaches the room through the slightly open balcony door, soft and steady.
Then I notice the unfamiliar ceiling.
The narrow bed.
And the quiet breathing from across the room.
Alexander.
Memory returns all at once.
The yacht.
The panic.
The old marina.
The shirt I’m wearing.
His shirt.
I glance down.
The oversized fabric has twisted during the night, sliding up one thigh.
Heat creeps into my cheeks and I tug it back down quickly.
Across the room Alexander shifts on the queen bed.
His eyes open a second later.
They land on me immediately.
“Morning,” he says, voice still rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
He pushes himself up on one elbow and looks at the bed I’m in.
“You know,” he says slowly, “you could have taken the queen bed.”
“I’m fine here.”
“Amber.”
“I’m comfortable.”
He studies me for another second, then shakes his head with a quiet laugh and gets up.
“Stubborn.”
I ignore that.
Twenty minutes later we’re downstairs in the hotel restaurant.
The place is busy with surfers, tourists, and people involved with the championship.
Alexander sits across from me, already scanning the breakfast menu.
I tilt my head slightly.
“Do you still eat scrambled eggs every morning?”
He looks up, surprised.
“Yes.”
I smile faintly.
“With cheese.”
His eyebrows lift.
“Wow.”
I shrug.
“It’s not just you who remembers things.”
A flicker of something soft crosses his expression.
The waiter arrives and Alexander orders immediately.
“Scrambled eggs. Extra cheese.”
He glances at me.
“You?”
“Fruit and coffee.”
The waiter leaves.
Alexander leans back in his chair.
“Protein is important.”
I laugh despite myself.
“You’ve been saying that since you were seventeen.”
“And I was right.”
Our food arrives a few minutes later.
For a little while we just eat, the conversation light and surprisingly easy.
Then Alexander wipes his hands and checks his phone.
“I need to review the footage they sent last night.”
“Workaholic.”
“Someone has to make sure your project looks amazing.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll go see my parents this afternoon before we meet the team at the marina.”
He pauses.
“Tell them I said hi.”
I give him a flat look.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they like you.”
He grins.
“Oh. They like me?”
“Shut up.”
He leans forward slightly.
“Maybe I should go with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
He laughs softly. “Fine. I’ll stay and do my ‘filters thing.’”
I smiled and asked. “And about your parents, they are okay right?” I loved his parents, his mother Laura was like a mom for me while we were together.
He stopped, I see him adjusting himself. “Yes, they are okay,”
I stand, grabbing my bag.
“Good.
My parents’ house hasn’t changed much.
The same small garden.
The same wooden porch.
Mom hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe.
Dad asks a hundred questions about the project.
About the investors.
About the town finally growing.
I stay for coffee and a quick lunch before leaving again.
And when I reach the old marina later that afternoon…
Alexander is already there.
Standing near the dock with the survey team.
He looks up the moment he sees me.
The others finish their measurements quickly and start packing up.
“We’ll come back tomorrow with the equipment,” one of them says.
“Perfect,” Alexander replies.
Soon the team leaves.
And it’s just the two of us again.
Standing near the old docks.
The place feels smaller now.
But the memories hit harder.
Alexander walks slowly along the wooden boards.
“Remember we used to eat pizza here?” he says quietly.
I stay silent.
He points toward a patch of sand near the edge.
“You’d sit there reading while I laid my head on your lap.”
I swallow.
Still saying nothing.
Because if I start talking about those memories…
I won’t stop.
He keeps walking until he reaches one of the older posts.
Then he suddenly freezes.
“Oh my God.”
I look up.
“What?”
He crouches slightly and runs his fingers along the wood.
“You can’t believe this.”
My stomach drops as I step closer.
There.
Carved into the dock.
Time has worn the edges smooth.
But the letters are still visible.
A + A
My chest tightens painfully.
“It’s still here,” he murmurs.
I manage a faint smile.
“Yes.”
He straightens slowly and looks at me.
“Do you know why I chose this project?”
I frown.
“Why?”
His gaze drifts across the marina.
Then back to me.
“Because of this place.”
My heart starts pounding.
“All the memories we had here…” he says quietly. “I couldn’t stay away from it.”
I stare at him.
“You can’t say that.”
His brows pull together.
“Why not?”
“Because you were the one who broke up with me.”
The words come out sharper than I intended.
He goes still.
“You don’t get to come back into my life saying things like that,” I continue, my voice shaking now. “Saying you missed it. Saying you cared.”
Anger rises fast.
Hot.
Burning.
“You chose this project because of us?” I laugh bitterly. “You finished us.”
“You don’t get to do that,” I snap, my voice shaking. “You don’t get to come back here and act like all of this is some sweet nostalgia.”
His brow furrows. “Amber—”
“No.” I cut him off, my chest heaving. “No. You don’t get to say my name like that.”
The memories are suffocating. The beach. The summer nights. The boy who promised me forever.
“You’re the one who ended it,” I say, my voice cracking despite how hard I try to hold it together. “You broke up with me. You walked away.”
His jaw tightens, but I’m not done.
“And not just once.” My laugh is bitter. “You broke my heart, asked for another chance… and I gave it to you like an idiot. One night, Xander. One fucking night.”
His eyes close briefly.
“And the next morning?” I continue, my voice rising. “You dumped me with a text.”
Silence stretches between us.
“How cruel can someone be?” I whisper. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
My chest burns.
“You broke me,” I say again, softer this time. “You broke me.”
For a moment he just stares at me.
Then his voice comes out rough, almost a whisper.
“I’m sorry.”
I freeze.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Amber,” he says again.
The words should make me feel better.
They don’t.
“But it was the only way,” he continues quietly.
My head snaps up.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His gaze doesn’t waver.
“I saw your resignation letter.”
My stomach drops.
“The one you were about to send to the university,” he says. “The one where you were giving up your place.”
The world tilts.
“You had a full scholarship, Amber. The best college in the country. They were begging you to go there.” His voice tightens. “And you were ready to throw it away.”
Anger floods back into my veins.
“You never let me explain—”
“Because you wouldn’t have listened,” he interrupts.
I stare at him.
“I know you,” he continues, his voice steady but heavy with regret. “You would have given up everything to stay with me.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make!”
“You chose a college close to here because of me,” he says. “Because my father’s company is here. Because you wanted to stay.”
His voice lowers.
“And I couldn’t let you destroy your future for a boy who was still trying to figure his own life out.”
My hands clench.
“So that’s what this was about?” I ask, my voice trembling. “My brain? My future?”
Tears burn behind my eyes.
“What about my heart?” I whisper. “What about my happiness?”
He flinches.
“You didn’t just ‘protect’ my future, Xander,” I say. “You stole everything from me.”
My voice breaks.
“Do you have any idea what it was like after you?”
His silence is answer enough.
“I couldn’t date anyone,” I continue, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Every time someone tried to get close, I ran. Because no one was you.”
My chest aches with the truth.
“You ruined love for me,” I whisper. “Because it was always you.”
I turn to leave before he can see the tears finally falling.
But suddenly his hand closes around my wrist.
Warm. Firm.
Familiar.
The world stops when he pulls me back toward him.
My wrist burns where his fingers wrap around it.
Not painful.
Just… familiar.
The pull of him drags me back before I can stop myself, my body colliding with his chest. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and suddenly he’s everywhere again—his warmth, his scent, the quiet power of him standing so close I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“Let me go,” I whisper, though the words come out weaker than I want.
He doesn’t.
His grip loosens, but his hand slides from my wrist to my forearm, like he’s afraid that if he lets go completely I’ll disappear again.
“Amber…” His voice is rough.
I shake my head, trying to pull away. “No. You don’t get to—”
“I loved you.”
The words slice through the air.
I freeze.
My heart slams violently against my ribs.
His fingers tighten slightly on my arm.
“I loved you more than I loved myself,” he says quietly.
I stare up at him, my vision blurring.
“And that’s exactly why I did it.”
My breath catches.
“You think that night didn’t destroy me?” His voice cracks for the first time. “You think sending that message was easy?”
I swallow hard, but the anger still burns.
“You didn’t even give me a chance to choose.”
His jaw tightens.
“Because you would have chosen me.”
The certainty in his voice makes my chest ache.
“You would have thrown away everything for me,” he continues. “Your scholarship. Your future. Your entire life.”
“And that was my choice!” I snap.
His head shakes slowly.
“No.” His voice is low now, thick with something that sounds dangerously close to grief. “It would have been a mistake you made because you loved me.”
The words land like a punch.
“You deserved more than the small life I had to offer back then,” he says. “You deserved the world.”
My throat tightens.
“So I made you hate me.”
The quiet confession makes the air between us feel heavy.
“It was the only way you’d go,” he continues. “If I had begged you to leave, you wouldn’t have. If I had asked you to follow your dream, you would have stayed.”
His green eyes lock onto mine.
“So I broke your heart.”
My breath shudders.
“I thought…” His voice falters. “I thought eventually you’d move on. You’d meet someone better. Someone who didn’t hold you back.”
A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it.
“But I never stopped loving you,” he says softly.
The words settle deep in my chest, shaking something fragile inside me.
“Not for a single day.”
Silence falls between us.
The kind of silence filled with everything we lost.
Everything we never said.
My voice trembles when I finally speak.
“You don’t get to say that now.”
But it sounds weak.
Broken.
Because the truth is still there, buried beneath all the years.
His hand lifts slowly, almost hesitantly, until his thumb brushes the tear from my cheek.
The touch sends a shiver through my entire body.
“I never stopped,” he repeats quietly.
My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
“And you want to know the worst part?”
My breath catches.
His forehead drops slowly until it rests against mine.
“I’d do it again,” he whispers. “If it meant you got the life you deserved.”
My fingers curl instinctively in the front of his shirt.
“You idiot,” I breathe.
My voice shakes.
“You absolute idiot.”
His breath fans across my lips now.
Close.
Too close.
“And yet,” I whisper, my heart betraying me, “you’re still the only man I’ve ever loved.”
The confession hangs between us.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
The tension snaps.
And when his mouth finally crashes against mine, it isn’t gentle.
It’s desperate.
Years of heartbreak, longing, anger, and love colliding all at once.
Like we’re both trying to make up for every second we lost.