Chapter 33
Swell
The heaviness in Kate's chest mirrored Nick's slumped shoulders as he walked away.
Each step he took carved a small, measured blow—a reminder of the tension now stretching between them.
She pressed her toes against the hard rock beneath her, trying to ground herself in something solid, but her mind spun like a storm.
He had opened up to her, let her past the polished veneer, and she'd just... sat there. Frozen. Unsure how to respond. Guilt curled in her belly. How could she want him this much and still freeze like a coward?
The thought of being with him thrilled her—exhilarated her—but terrified her in equal measure. If parting for a few days hurt this bad, what would it be like to lose him for real? Love never came without a price. She knew that all too well.
Jessa was a symptom of something bigger.
Kate understood that now. The threat, the manipulations—none of it was real.
But Jessa also embodied everything that scared her about Nick's world: wealth, glamor, a polished confidence Kate had never possessed.
Those were the women in Nick's world. Of course they were.
She had been na?ve to think she wouldn't shrink standing next to them.
None of those relationships had lasted. If she were honest, that scared her too. What if she couldn't hold his interest either? What if this ended like every other past relationship—with her needing to piece herself together?
She was doing that now, of course, and it was her fault. She initiated this break. Kate closed her eyes and took a slow breath, dragging salty air into her lungs. The ocean breeze whipped her hair across her face, and somewhere down the beach, gulls cried out as they chased the receding waves.
One thing at a time. He said there was room in his life for her, and he hadn't hesitated when he said it. Did she believe him? Did she even believe she deserved that kind of certainty?
She pictured Zach's wry grin, David's easy warmth, Marguerite's kindness. They hadn't treated her like an outsider. They'd welcomed her in, as if she belonged without having to prove herself first. It was a start.
The mansion still intimidated her. From the outside, it looked like something out of a fairytale—beautiful and unattainable.
Inside, it had surprised her. Cozy corners, soft sofas, the quiet comfort of a place that had been loved into something more than just expensive.
She could almost picture herself there. She'd need time to settle in, but it didn't seem impossible.
There was his work, the long hours he put in, the late-night calls and meetings.
Part of her bristled at the idea of becoming an afterthought, something to be slotted in around the demands of his empire.
He'd promised he would make space for her, though.
She wanted to believe that. She needed to believe it—because she wasn't interested in being anyone's convenience ever again.
She'd spent so long convincing herself she was better off alone—it was safer that way. And maybe she had been. But safe didn't equate to happy.
In truth, she had been lonely. Kate wanted a partner.
Someone who'd look at her as an equal, not a project to fix or a woman to tolerate.
She'd worked hard for everything she had—all those late nights drafting chapters after her shift, the rejection letters she'd survived, every small win she'd built into a career.
Dan never understood that. He had never wanted to understand it.
Maybe that was why Dan's contempt had hurt her so much. He'd laughed at her, called her stories smut, said she wasted her time playing with invisible friends. What stung even more was the way he'd looked down at her—as if she were small and silly and didn't have anything real to offer.
He'd been so proud of his degree, his job, the shiny title his parents bought for him.
He didn't understand what it had cost her to build something out of nothing.
And she'd let his condescension seep into her very soul, let it convince her she was lucky to be with someone like him, that she should be grateful for whatever scraps of affection his superior self doled out.
But she wasn't that woman. She did have value. She did have something to contribute. And she was tired of thinking she didn't deserve to be met halfway.
The sun now sat higher in the sky, painting the water with brilliant sparkles. A trio of sandpipers raced along the tide line, chasing the retreating foam. The rhythm of the waves—crash, hiss, retreat—had become a metronome for her thoughts.
Her life was in Colorado. Nick lived here in South Florida.
Not impossible, but it would be hard. Long-distance wasn't something she'd ever pictured herself attempting.
Still, if they wanted it enough, they could find a way.
She could write anywhere. Callie was her only tie to Colorado—there was nothing to keep her there.
The idea of following him, of making a life together, sparked a flicker of adventure.
Callie would probably threaten to drag her back if she so much as hinted at moving. The thought made her laugh out loud, a bright burst of relief she hadn't expected. She'd take it as a good sign—that she could laugh at all, after everything.
Kate glanced at her watch and winced. Hours had crept by while she sat here thinking herself in circles.
No wonder her legs were numb. She slid down onto the warm sand, stretching out her stiff muscles as she stared up at the mansion.
Heat radiated from the beach below her, and the salt-sticky air clung to her skin.
It still seemed like too much. Like he was too much. But maybe he thought the same about her—like she was something unexpected he didn't know how to hold. Wasn't that the point of trying? To risk being known, even if it meant being hurt?
Her stomach growled, and she shook her head, smiling despite the ache in her chest. She could think more later. For now, she would stand up, go inside, and figure out what comes next.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for today.