Episode 227
YOU’VE LOST THAT LOVIN’ FEELIN’
Sienna
The ocean doesn’t soothe me.
That’s supposed to be the cliché, right? That the sound of the waves and the smell of salt in the air washes everything clean. That walking barefoot in the sand is grounding. That the horizon reminds you how small your problems really are.
Not today.
The tide churns like my insides, and every step I take feels like I’m dragging my broken heart behind me. I don’t even know how far I’ve walked.
Just me. Just the image of Brett with Jake burned into the back of my eyes. Jake’s hand tangled in Brett’s shirt. That kiss. So desperate. So real. The kind you don’t fake.
The kind of kiss that says this isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.
I press a hand to my stomach as I walk, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest. I didn’t even know I was hoping for anything until that hope got ripped out by the root. Stupid. So stupid.
I meant nothing to him. Or maybe I was just a placeholder. A temporary fix for something that was never really mine to begin with.
Ahead, a burst of laughter cuts through the wind. I almost turn back, but it’s too late. They’ve already seen me.
Ariel waves. She looks like a beach goddess, barefoot and radiant. Standing next to her is her mother, Cheryl, and Jazz, her best friend from Alabama.
And then there’s Evangeline. Composed, as always. Though she’s looking a little green around the gills.
A small wedding arch is set up, the only sign of what’s to come.
It's simple but elegant—light wood anchored in the sand, draped with soft ivory fabric that ripples with the breeze.
A few fresh blooms are tucked into the corners—white roses, maybe, or something softer, more coastal.
It stands alone against the backdrop of the sea.
“Hey!” Ariel jogs toward me. “Sienna, wait up!”
I try to smile. I really do. But I’m not sure it lands.
“I’ve been looking for you and Emily,” she says, brushing her hair out of her face. Then she scrutinizes me further. “Are you okay?”
I hesitate.
No.
I’m not.
But this is her moment. She doesn’t need my baggage dragging behind it like a cloud.
The people near the wedding arch are smiling and laughing. All except Evangeline. I like her, but I’m not sure she knows how to laugh.
Ariel is glowing in that way only people who are truly, deeply loved seem to glow. It’s painful to look at.
I’m sure I look like a sewer rat next to her. No one deeply loves me.
Back to being the fucking wallflower.
“Sienna?”
Right. She asked if I was okay.
Not even slightly.
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile. “Just needed to walk it off.”
Ariel studies me. She doesn’t push, but the look in her eyes says she doesn’t buy it either.
“Come back with me,” she urges gently. “We’re finishing the final details at the site. Everything’s almost ready.”
I glance past her at the women as a few staffers join them. I’m a bridesmaid, after all. I should be part of this.
“Come on,” Ariel says again. “Please?”
I nod, mostly because I don’t have the energy to say no.
“Don’t forget the floral arc needs to be re-anchored,” Evangeline is saying to the staffers. “The wind’s going to rip it apart by tomorrow morning if it’s left like this.”
Jazz peers over her sunglasses at me. “You doesn’t look like someone who gives a damn about flowers right now.”
Everyone goes still.
I try to swallow, but my throat’s too tight.
Ariel shoots Jazz a warning look, but I lift a hand. “It’s fine.”
Jazz shrugs. “Hey, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. You’ve got heartbreak written all over you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I murmur.
She pulls off her sunglasses, revealing eyes sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re right. But I know that look. I’ve worn it.”
I look away, pretending to study the arch again, though the breeze has kicked up and the fabric’s started to twist on one side.
“Well,” Cheryl says, brushing off her linen shorts, “the arch looks solid and the weather’s lookin’ good. I’d say we’re sittin’ pretty.”
Ariel exhales with a relieved little laugh. “Don’t jinx it, Mama.”
Jazz stretches with a groan and props her hands on her hips. “If that arch collapses, we’ll just make Evangeline hold it up with one arm while she holds a glass of champagne in the other.”
Evangeline doesn't even blink. “If the arch collapses, the staff will be fired, not me.”
“Okay, everyone relax.” Ariel smiles. “Tomorrow is going to be beautiful. No falling arches. No rain. No…whatever Jazz is imagining.”
Jazz lifts her sunglasses and gives me a sidelong look. “You’re quiet.”
I shrug, trying to keep my face neutral. “Just taking it in.”
The arch really is beautiful. Plain but elegant. It has that promise to it, like it's holding its breath. Like tomorrow, something big will happen here. Something permanent.
Ariel tugs on my arm. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
I look at her, eyebrows raised. “I’m a bridesmaid.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, and it’s not a lie.
Because no matter how much everything aches inside me right now, Ariel deserves this. Every smile, every toast, every happy memory before tomorrow changes her life forever.
Jazz lets out a satisfied sigh. “Good. Because I’ve got a playlist that would make a stripper blush and at least two games that may or may not get us banned from this island.”
“You’re determined to make me regret this party, aren’t you?” Ariel teases.
“Absolutely,” Jazz grins.
Cheryl checks her watch and taps it like she’s in a rush. “Well, if y’all want time to get ready, we need to scoot. I still have to do something about this humidity.” She lifts a piece of hair off her neck with a grimace. “This heat has no manners.”
“We should get back to the house,” Ariel says. “I need a shower.”
“And I need to make myself bee-you-tiful for the unclaimed bachelors.” Jazz twirls in the sand. “I didn’t smuggle half a suitcase of glitter and cheap lingerie through customs for nothing.”
Unclaimed bachelors.
Is Brett in that group now? Or has Jake claimed him?
If so, that’s two bachelors down, though Jake wasn’t one of the originals. Probably three, with Emily and River.
“Come on,” Ariel tugs on my arm again.
“I’ll catch up in a second,” I say. “Just want a minute here.”
She nods. “Okay. But don’t disappear. I’ll come hunting for you.”
I smile faintly. “Wouldn’t dare.”
They all head toward the concrete path, Ariel and Jazz giggling, Evangeline giving orders to the staffers, and Cheryl doing… Well, whatever Southern mothers of brides do.
I stay back.
The breeze has picked up a little. It flutters the fabric draped across the arch, making it ripple like a breath. I drop my gaze to the sand. Lots of footprints.
The laughter fades as the others move farther up the path. I close my eyes for a beat, just long enough to let the wind cool my cheeks. Just long enough to push everything down again.
Then I hear it.
“Sienna.”
My name—rough, urgent—carried on the wind.
I turn before I even think.
And there he is.
Brett.
He’s crossing the beach, barefoot, his shirt half untucked, his brow furrowed like he's been searching for me and just found what he wasn't sure he wanted to see.
“Sienna,” he says again, stopping a few feet away.
The world narrows. Sound dulls.
Everything sharpens around the look in his eyes.
Like he’s been holding something in too long.
Like now, when it’s already too late, he’s finally ready to speak.
I turn away from him to follow the others.
“Sienna…please.”