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Sophie took a deep breath and set her prawn sandwich on her lap. “That was two years ago, Rae. Can you really not move past it?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe I can’t. Maybe it just hurts to know that the person I loved more than I’ll probably love anyone else in the future could do that to me. That’s a lot of forgiveness to move past that.”
“Yeah, but the problem is, you’re the only person you’re really hurting from that. How long do you want to carry that pain around with you? Forgive him, even if it’s just for you.”
“Since when did you become a walking fucking Bible?”
“I watch too much TV.” She shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I just think you should read the letter. I don’t even know what it says.”
“Ah, here comes the ulterior motive.” I snorted and went back to painting.
“Hey, I’m nosy, and I own it. I wanna know what he said.”
“Be my guest. It’s all yours.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Wait!” I hit my head on the counter again. “Owwww!”
She was over there picking the letter up before I’d had to move out and scramble up.
“I didn’t mean for you to actually read it!” I almost tripped on the dust sheets and only just managed not to hit my toe again. “Sophie!”
She made a number of faces—pursed lips, a frown, an ‘ooh’ shape with her mouth.
I watched her circle the expressions until I snapped. “Fine! What does the jerk want?”
Sophie looked at me with a sly glint in her eye. “He wants you to meet him by the spot on the beach where you had your first date at eleven tonight.”
My mouth dropped open, and I snatched the letter from her.
“Ow, paper cut.”
Ignoring her, I looked for myself.
True enough, that was what it said. Meet him where we’d had our first date at eleven o’clock. I knew that meant under the cluster of palm trees where the water came up a little higher, because we’d sat there for an hour waiting for the tide to come in and tickle our toes, drinking beer and falling in love.
I tossed the letter on the counter. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I said quite simply. “Going out on the beach by yourself at eleven at night is the quickest way to get your ass murdered.”
She frowned. “But you won’t be alone. You’ll be with Chase.”
“Exactly. I’ll probably murder the asshole and send him out to sea, then won’t you feel bad about convincing me to go?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – RAELYNN
I watched TV.
I knew how this ended.
A single woman walks toward the beach in the dead of night, alone, with only her phone to guide her.
There were two endings, actually. One was a murderer determined to stab her and leave her for dead. The other was a snake slid across your feet.
Both resulted in death.
I hated snakes. Hated them. With a passion. Which was probably why I didn’t get along with most girls in high school.
Why was I here? I didn’t know. I didn’t owe Chase Aarons anything. I had no reason to be walking toward the beach like I wasn’t dealing drugs or something. I had no need to be here and no reason to listen to what he wanted to say to me.
But, just maybe, I did for me.
Maybe I owed myself the answers I wanted. I didn’t even know if I’d get what I wanted. I doubted it. I doubted he could give me anything close to any kind of explanation that would make me want to be civil to him, never mind friends.
But I owed it to myself to try.
I slipped my flip-flops off as I reached the edge of the beach. The sand was cold beneath my feet, and the moon sent an eerie yet weirdly soothing glow over the sea. A warm feeling of comfort washed over me at the soft sound of the waves crawling up the beach. The clear night sky illuminated my walk across the beach, and before I knew it, the cluster of palm trees where we’d had our first date was right there.
I stopped and looked at them. They cast long shadows across the beach where the moon was hiding behind them, and just off to the side, a little closer to the line of the shore where the water was higher, was a person.
Chase.
He had to know I was here. He had to know I’d come even though I didn’t know myself until I got in the damn car and parked a block away.
He didn’t turn around, though. He sat there, knees bent with his arms around them and his fingers locked in front of him. His gaze was focused on the ocean, and he didn’t move a bit.
One foot after another, I moved forward and closer to him.
