From here, Ben could see his parents’ house nestled atop the rocks across the cove. How many times had he taken the Boston Whaler or the row boat across to come here? A few paddle boarders snaked the shoreline where the water was calm. In the distance a yellow-and-white sailboat whipped across the water, where it was choppier. Ben’s parents still had both boats, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to take either out all summer. He thought about this as he continued up the sand.
Midway up the strip of shoreline, there was still no sign of Holly. The public beach was up ahead, dotted by sunbathers and swimmers. If he kept going, he’d reach the other side.
He’d just turned back when he spied her, sitting on an overturned kayak, by the dune grass. She was wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and reading a book. He should’ve known.
“Holls,” he called.
She looked up.
“You hiding from me?”
“What time is it?” She looked at her phone and hopped up. “Oh God. I need to get back. Come on.”
“I came to say goodbye,” he said, keeping pace as she rushed up the beach.
“I know, sorry. I lost track of time when I came down to take a break. Before things get crazy.”
“Crazier.”
“You’ve no idea. We had the food critic last night,” she told him.
“The one from theGlobe? That’s incredible.”
“Well, let’s see what she says first. Reviews come out on Mondays. So, I finally heard from my grandmother, who still won’t come by but has at least shared her reasons. Oh, and I talked to my mother.” She was babbling and filling the space between them, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Holls.” He stopped, and waited until she did, too.
“What?” She looked impatient.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I have to go home, and I’m most sorry to not have more time with you.” He let this sink in. “But I will be back.”
Holly dug her toes in the sand and looked into the distance, something she’d always done when upset. “Remember when you used to sneak out and row across the cove at night, and come get me?” She nodded out to the water.
“I was just thinking about that,” he admitted.
She looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I think that’s how I want to remember things.”
It was not what he wanted to hear. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this, and I know the timing is tough for both of us, but like you said the other night at the Squire, timing can work both ways. Friend or foe. We can make it work for us.”
“Ben, stop. I’ve been thinking, too.”
He felt the weight of what she was about to say. “And?”
“We have a history together that’s forever. It’s not going anywhere, and nothing can change it. I treasure it, more than almost anything.” She paused. “But I think we’ve proven that it’s best left there.”
Ben stared back at her in disbelief. “Providence is two hours away. We could try seeing each other, long distance.”
“And you have a house and a job and a life there.” She nodded toward the inn. “While mine is here. I don’t think either of us is changing that, are we?”
He shook his head ruefully.
“Long distance is just killing time before one person or the other moves,” Holly told him. “If neither of us is planning on that, what are we doing?” She was biting her lip now, and he understood. She’d thought hard about this, too. She didn’t want it to end any more than he did. And yet what would they accomplish by keeping it going if nothing else changed?
He took her hand, and she let him, and they walked the rest of the way up the beach in silence. At the base of the stairs, Holly stopped and turned to him.
“I have spent the better part of my life loving you, Ben Walters.” Here, she started to cry. “And I want to remember you crashing through the waves, rowing across the cove, to come find me. Can you let me have that one thing?”
Ben felt his own lump developing in his throat. This time felt like a real goodbye, and he was unprepared.
