I haven’t reached out, but some nights when I can’t sleep, my thumb hovers over his contact, thumbs itching to ask him how he’s doing. If he’s happy.
The photo is set to one he took of us, lying in his bed. His dark-green duvet is pulled up to my chin and his arms are wrapped around me. I don’t think I’ve ever looked happier than I do in that photo. It’s the only one I allow myself to look at. It hurts too much, like a bruise I can’t stop pressing.
I wonder if he still thinks about me. If he has to fight the urge to text me, too.
But then I remember—hehatesme.
He’s probably already moved on while I’m sitting here like a fool, imagining all of it meant so much more.
“Um. Earth to Sadie.” Mia waves her hand in front of my face, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “You good?”
“Yeah.” The lie tastes flat. “Just spaced out.”
Her gaze falls to the open book in my lap. “How’s your book?”
I slip my bookmark into place and close the leather-bound cover, fingers tracing over the gold foil letters.The Princess Bride.
“Bittersweet.”
Her expression softens. She knows exactly who I’m thinking about, but she doesn’t push. She’s been immensely understanding with me these last few weeks—more than I deserve. She let me sob on her couch, sleep in her bed when I couldn’t bear being alone, and turn down every invitation to go out.
But I think she’s starting to give up.
I know I already have.
Adjusting the straps of my bikini, I sit up, brushing grains of sand off my thighs. It’s hot pink with little ruffles along the edges—bright and fun in a way I’m not right now. But something about it makes me feel a little more like myself, even if everything else feels tattered.
My phone vibrates in my tote.
I reach for it absently, expecting a text from Lydia about Iris chewing through another one of her boots or a notification from being tagged in Mia’s newest post.
But then I see the name lit up on my screen.
Vapid Dick <3
you’ve always looked good in pink.
My breath catches in my throat, heart stuttering. I stare at the words, rereading the message over and over, my fingers trembling.
I’m struggling to process what this means when something makes me look up.
And there he is.
Wesley.
Standing at the edge of the beach, sneakers half-buried in the sand, athletic shorts hanging low on his hips, and a plain white T-shirt clinging to his broad frame. His baseball cap is flippedbackward, a soft smirk tugging at his mouth like he knows exactly how much that sight undoes me.
He’s here.
My heart threatens to pound out of my chest, every part of me surging toward him like my heart just remembered who I belong to.
“How—how are you here?” My voice trembles. “How did you find me?”
He glances at Mia, then back at me. The corners of his mouth lift into a smile that ruins me. “A little birdie might’ve told me.”
Mia shrugs, unapologetic. “Don’t hate me, but you’ve been, like, silently drowning, Sades. I had to call in a lifeboat.”
My eyes sting. For a fraction of a heartbeat, I question if I’m dreaming. But then Wesley steps closer, grinning at me, and Ifeelhis presence.
