Jake was in love with a girl. Marnie. She was beautiful—wild and broken in her own way—and she lit up his world. He never once noticed the way I looked at him. And that wasfine. It had to be. Because I couldn’t risk it. Not in that town. Not at that time. Not with Jake.
So I kept it locked up. Every almost-touch. Every late-night conversation where I wanted to say something but didn’t. Every aching moment when I convinced myself that being near him was enough.
And then he was gone.
Gone without a trace, like a chapter torn out of a book. He left us that note—that devastating note—and we assumed he had drowned.
I cried in secret, alone in the dark, because grieving for a friend was acceptable, but grieving for someone you were never supposed to love? That had to be done in silence.
Now he’s back.
And River knew.
All this time.
River, who stood by me through the darkest years. River, who I’ve bled for. Who I would’ve taken a bullet for.
Heknew.
He knew Jake was out there breathing, living, hiding…and he didn’t tell me.
I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. Betrayal, guilt, heartbreak—twenty years’ worth crashing down like a damned tidal wave.
And Sienna…
My chest tightens.
Sienna is not a shadow. She’s real. She’s here. And I love her in a way that’s clean and bright, not tangled up in what-ifs and secrets. But right now, I feel like a man split in two, between the life I’ve built and the one I used to dream about in the quiet corners of my heart.
I never asked Jake to love me. Never expected it. But some part of me always hoped.
Maybe if things had been different…
If I’d said something back then…
If he hadn’t died…
Except he didn’t.
He’s alive. And I don’t know what I want from him—answers, closure, a second chance at a first love that never even happened?
The waves crash in the distance like they’re trying to shake me loose from the past. But I’m stuck. Still fifteen. Still in love with a boy who never looked at me that way. Still terrified that if I face him now, I’ll find out he still doesn’t.
I don’t know which would hurt more—that, or the look on Sienna’s face when she realizes I’m not the man she thought I was.
It took me twenty years to move on. Twenty years of burying that one name so deep inside me I could pretend it never meant anything. I drowned it in work, in top-shelf bourbon, in too many women to count. Always women.
Because that’s what I wanted. What I was drawn to. What felt natural. Jake was the exception. He always was.
I never looked at another man like that. Never felt that quiet, devastating pull toward anyone else with a voice like gravel and eyes like the ocean staring back at me.
What I felt for him was singular. And for a long time, I convinced myself it wasn’t even real.
But it was.
And still, I moved on.
Sienna changed everything.
