"Then you'll learn to live with the consequences."
He started walking away. His cane left small round marks in the sand. Then he stopped. Turned back.
"My wife was furious with me for three months once. I'd made a decision without consulting her. Something about the hotel, back when we were young and I still thought I knew everything." His eyes grew distant, remembering. "She said I didn't respect her enough to include her in my own thinking. That I'd treated our partnership like my personal kingdom."
He looked at me.
"Sound familiar?"
I closed my eyes. "Yes."
"It took me three months, a grand gesture, and a level of humility I didn't know I possessed. But I got her back." When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. Small and sad and knowing. "The best things in life are worth fighting for, Mr. Dubois. Even when—especially when—you're the one who broke them."
He turned and walked away. His silhouette grew smaller against the darkening sky until it disappeared over the dune.
I sat there, unmoving, lost in my thoughts.
The stars came out, one by one, scattered across the sky like they had been every night for billions of years and would be for billions more. Indifferent. Eternal. The waves kept crashing, that endless rhythm that had nothing to do with human grief or human love or human stupidity.
I sat there all night.
I thought about Aria. The way she looked in the morning, sleep-soft and unguarded. The way she laughed, her whole face transforming, her whole body joining in. The way she'd kissed me on the beach, tasting like salt and wine and something I'd never be able to forget.
I thought about love. How I'd spent my whole life avoiding it. Building walls, keeping distance, convincing myself that wanting things only made you weak. And now here I was, wanting something more than I'd ever wanted anything, and I was too late.
I thought about all the ways I'd failed. Not just with Aria. With Evie. With Caroline. With everyone who'd ever tried to get close to me and found nothing but ice.
How could I win her back?
What could I possibly do to make her forgive me?
The questions circled in my head, chasing each other like dogs after their own tails. I didn't have answers. I didn't have a plan. I didn't have anything but the hollow ache in my chest and the memory of her walking away without looking back.
The sky began to lighten. Pink at the edges, then orange, then gold. The sun rose out of the ocean, the same way it had risen every morning since the world began.
I watched it climb. I felt the warmth hit my face.
And somewhere in that slow dawn, something changed.
I couldn't undo what I'd done. Couldn't take back the threat or the betrayal or the look on her face when she'd realized who I really was.
But I could fight. I could try. I could become someone worthy of her forgiveness, even if she never gave it.
By the time the sun was fully up, I had a plan.
19ARIA
The universe has a reallyfunny way of kicking you when you're down, of proving that the moment you abandon your principles and do something stupid, you'll pay for it tenfold.
I'd decided to count the fling with Sebastian as my something stupid for the year. Maybe for my entire existence. Never again would I let myself be that foolish. Never again would I let a man past the walls I'd spent years building. Never again would I mistake manipulation for connection.
A week back in New York, and the wound was still fresh.
He hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Hadn't tried to reach me at all.
I told myself I didn't want his apology. Wouldn't accept it even if he offered. He'd hurt me. Used me. Tricked me into believing there was something real between us while he was scheming behind my back.
But it would have been nice if he'd at least tried.
