Chapter 8
eight
Elijah
The scene is all too familiar and feels like a continuation of our high school days.
A party on the beach. Tiki torches scattered at random in the sand.
Axl blasting Sam Hunt from his truck. But the biggest issue of all?
The love of my life stands in front of the fire, dancing like she hasn’t shed a single tear over us.
I swipe my hand over my forehead, trying to dull the pressure.
What was I thinking, offering my parents’ beach house for the joint bachelor-bachelorette party?
At the time, it had seemed like a good idea.
Jackson had mentioned they’d considered a Vegas trip, but with Kaci having Bella, she didn’t want to leave the state.
This neighboring beach house arrangement seemed like the perfect solution since Kaci could have Bella with her mom the whole time, and the wedding reception is just up the road at the lake resort.
I wasn’t prepared to feel all of this. My chest quakes. I’m in a constant state of cold sweats despite the ninety-degree heat. I assumed Koren would be back for the wedding, but I never imagined we’d be forced to relive some of our best memories, especially my favorite bonfires on the beach.
This was our sacred place.
One thing is for sure: I’m keeping my distance. I walk past the circle of friends and head out to the water alone. I barely notice Koren laughing at something Jackson says. I absolutely don’t notice her hair blowing in the breeze or the way her cheeks flush, the way they used to after we kissed.
Kaci comes up behind me and jabs a fist playfully into my side. “Are you going to stew over here all night by yourself?”
“What are you talking about?” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her.
“Don’t play dumb.” She wags a playful finger. Maybe it’s not playful. I stare at it as she whirling it around, looking like she’s going to jab me. “Just go talk to her.”
Gulping, I’m about to argue, but Kaci doesn’t give me the chance. She levels her crazy glare, spins on her heel, and runs back to rejoin the group. I’m left staring as she walks straight to Koren. I can’t help wondering if she’ll say something to her too.
I almost move a toe.
If I close my eyes, it’s easy to pretend we’re back in that place when I can sneak up behind Koren, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss the top of her head. I swear I can smell the lavender in her hair.
I always smell it.
Yet, I miss it so much.
There’s no doubt in the world if I did that now, she’d slug me.
Then she’d turn around and slap me again.
I really can’t blame her.
We were last year’s summer romance, and that summer is over.
I’d give anything to go back. I’d give away my first Stanley Cup—well—I suck in a sharp breath. That’s a big ask. Maybe not the Stanley Cup. I tilt my head, weighing it. The Cup is amazing, but Koren is everything. Yeah. I’d absolutely give it away if it meant us getting back together.
I’d give it all away for one more moment of holding her like she’s mine. My favorite spot was right here on the beach, barefoot, staring at the stars, full of hopes and dreams.
“I don’t care what happens after this summer,” she whispered. “I’ll love you forever.”
Balling my hands into fists, I resist the urge to shake them toward the heavens. Instead, I stare out to the water and breathe, “Forever was over too soon.”
I don’t know how long I stand there, just staring out over the water.
When I finally come back to myself, everyone’s gone inside for the night.
Apparently, we aren’t as wild as we used to be, but tomorrow is a huge day.
I drag my feet through the sand, taking the long way back to my porch so I can check the bonfire first.
It’s just smoking logs now. I kick each one with my sneaker until they are buried in the sand. Then I turn for one last look at the water.
My breath catches.
It’s like a scene from a movie.
Koren is standing on her back porch, still wearing the shorts and sweatshirt from earlier. Her arms are crossed, hair blowing in the breeze as she stares at me. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
It’s funny how her presence, even when it’s a surprise, doesn’t startle me. Tonight, under the dark sky, everything feels like one of my dreams. The good ones, when we were still in love and blissfully na?ve. I jerk my thumb toward the pit. “The logs were still smoking, but I, uh, got it out.”
“No, what are you really doing out here all alone?” She exhales slowly, as if breathing takes all her energy. Her mouth opens, then closes. After another long pause, I get it and speak for her.
“You mean this.” I point to her, and then back to me.
She nods, which hits me like a body check. I never thought we’d talk about us again—if you can call this a conversation. My body is so attuned to her, I can’t help but step closer before my brain catches up.
She stares above my head, toward the water. I notice her eyes are glassy, like she’s been crying. “Where was your date tonight?”
“Lauren wasn’t my date.” I kick at the grass, suddenly brave.
Or maybe overtired.
Or just too tired to care.
I look her straight in the eyes. “She was my distraction.”
A silence so long and thick falls between us, and I hold my breath.
We look at each other, and without speaking, I have a whole conversation.
I pour out all the thoughts in my head and tell her everything—how I love her, how I always have, and how I don’t think I will ever stop.
I’ve tried to move on and failed. I compare everyone to her.
No one will ever be her. I want to understand what happened, how we went from engaged and promising our futures to each other, to her just disappearing.
It's like she can hear my thoughts, because she spits back an argument. “Why didn’t you fight for me?”
Clenching my jaw, I struggle to keep my voice even. The question ignites my anger. She left on a plane without saying goodbye! I didn’t initiate the breakup. “You left on our wedding day. I got the message pretty clearly.”
“I ran away because I was humiliated.” Her voice rises a notch. “You forgot to mention our wedding in that interview, and your dad told me it was because you were embarrassed of me and wanted out.”
“When did you talk to my dad?” My head snaps back, nostrils flaring. “Why would you believe that?”
“I didn’t want to,” her voice cracks. “But you gave that interview, and when the reporter asked if you were single, you never mentioned me. We were literally getting married that week. It was a pretty big detail to just ‘forget.’”
My snort is the perfect blend of bitterness and disbelief. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you answer your phone and ask me why I didn’t say that?”
“Well, okay.” She squares her stance, like she’s been waiting for this. “Why didn’t you admit we were getting married if you weren’t embarrassed?”
“Because my dad had just spent the last hour filling my ear about how you were only using me for publicity. He pointed out that we’d known each other for years, and you only showed interest after I got signed. It was pretty sus, if you ask me,” My voice rises to a shout.
“What?” Her t is extra sharp with disbelief. “That is a lie. I was happy for you that you got on the team, but—"
“But what?” Shaking my head, my gaze falls to the ground with my sinking heart. I’ve thought this through so many times. I want to see her expression but stay rooted in the yard, heart hammering. “But what? You can’t think of another lie to cover it up?”
She doesn’t speak.
The silence between us is so loud, it crackles like lightning about to strike.
She finally speaks, voice thick. “Would it have mattered if I had talked to you? You seemed to move on so fast. There were social media posts of you with models within weeks.”
Anger flares hot in my gut. “What do you think?” My arms fly wide. “Of course, it would have mattered! It matters because I had chosen you. Those girls were literally just for promo for the team. Do you know what it did to me, having you ghost me after all our promises?”
The old lady next door throws open her upstairs window and sticks her head out. Her curlers are pinned to the top of her head, and she has a night cap over them. “Do you mind keeping it down?” she hollers. “Some of us like to sleep!”
It’s not the first time she’s yelled at us. Although the last time, we weren’t exactly arguing.
The rain had started after midnight—soft at first, then shifting into a sharper pinging on the roof. I remember sitting up in bed, wondering if she’d hear it too. We’d talked about rain before. My heart was already racing. I didn’t look at my phone. I just knew.
I slipped on a T-shirt and crawled out of bed. I remember smelling the thick salt in the air from that night on the beach. It was one of those summer nights that embedded itself into my brain. Just as I stuck a leg out my window, there she was. Perfect timing.
She stood right below my window in her blue swimsuit. Her hair was curling into spirals from the rain. Man, I love it when it does that. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at me, and I knew with all my heart I’d love her forever.
“I knew you’d remember,” she whispered.
I risked my life climbing down my mother’s trellis, my fingers slipping on the wet wood. The moment my bare toes touched the grass, she grabbed my hand, though, it felt like she was holding my heart.
We splashed through the puddles until the sand on the beach met our toes. Rain fell harder until it became a full storm with lightning crashing on the other side of the sky. We didn’t care. We were in love.
“Dance with me.” Her breath was warm against my skin as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“There’s no music,” I said. Then added, “And it’s lightning.”
Despite my words, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close to my chest. “Good thing I’ll risk death for a chance to dance in the rain with you.”