I hesitate.
Excuse me? He’s serious? We don’t know each other.
Of course, we have one very important thing in common.
So I nod. “Sure.” I turn to River. “Tell Em I’ll be back. I do want to talk.”
“You sure about this?” River asks me.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I should hear him out.”
Jake smiles.
And I hate how utterly handsome he is. Not as pretty as Brett, but with the lighter hair and leaner build, he has an almost boyish charm that mixes with his grown-man sex appeal—the kind that makes you forget your own name.
We don’t talk as we leave the suite, walk down the stairs, and out through the front. He seems to know instinctively that I’d prefer to avoid the beach, where I saw him and Brett kissing. Where Brett begged me to forgive him.
We find a narrow path shaded by palms and lined with thick greenery. It’s quiet. Removed. Even the waves feel distant.
We walk for a while, still without speaking, the silence pulsing between us. I catch glimpses of staff through the hedges. They’re laughing, hauling crates of wine and paperlanterns for tonight’s festivities. It all feels surreal. Like the world is still spinning even though mine is splintering.
Eventually, we find a bench at a small overlook, but we don’t sit. Just stand with a few feet between us.
“Start talking,” I finally say.
Jake runs a hand through his hair. “I kissed him.”
It lands like a punch. Not because I didn’t know. But because hearing him say it makes it real in a way that rips something open.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I was there.”
“I shouldn’t have. I know that.”
“But you did.”
He nods once, slow. “And I told him he needed to go after you. That he was a fool to let you go.”
I cross my arms. “Was that before or after your tongue was in his mouth?”
He winces. “I deserved that.”
“You think?”
Jake steps forward, voice low. “I didn’t do it to hurt you. And believe it or not, neither did he.”
“But you did hurt me,” I say. “You both did. And now I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel.”
Jake’s blue eyes meet mine. They’re beautiful. Lighter than Brett’s, even. He must have been gorgeous even as a lanky teenager.
“But you still love him,” he says.
I blink. “I do. But let’s be real here. It’s only been days, Jake. And you just blew a crater through whatever we had.”
“I know.”
Silence again, broken only by the distant squawk of a gull overhead.
“I had no idea what he felt back then,” Jake says. “But thetruth is, I felt it too. And I buried it. Deep. Because I had to. Because I loved someone else, and I made choices I don’t get to take back.”
