Page 12 of Secret Sins

“That’s the best story I’ve got about you, I guess.”

I knew he and I weren’t meant to stick, so I had been the one to break up with him. For a long time, he wouldn't speak to me, making our jobs a lot harder. Unfortunately for him, I had a bad habit of bolting when real feelings came into the picture.

Because for me, that meant they'd leave. Either that, or they’d die, which amounted to the same thing. I’d had therapy for it, but all that did was make me pick guys who were losers, knowing they had no sticking power.

“You were my one and only official long-term relationship, you know.”

Nodding, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Why is that, Bay?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nickname I’d always hated. “I don’t cope well with my abandonment issues; you know that.”

“I hope for your sake you learn how. You deserve that kind of happiness.”

I thanked him, told him congratulations one more time, and then tried to decide if I should go back inside or take a walk. For whatever reason, I was restless, but it was getting late.

Used to be, I didn't worry about walking around at night in my hometown. I knew its soul better than the back of my hand, and it was as safe as could be. But a certain man with a shifty look in his eyes and a set hunch to his shoulders had changed that perspective for me. Van was a mystery I couldn't solve; a nut I couldn't crack. He insisted he was sinister, but he gave off the vibe of a wounded animal. One that would sooner attack its savior than accept help because it was scared of being hurt again.

Mind made up, I set out to walk to the water’s edge. I didn't usually go down there as much, but something about Van’s arrival had made me want to visit the place I considered my parents’ memorial. Their bodies had never been recovered, lost at sea with their vessel after a sudden late winter storm. But the spot where the inlet bled into the bay was where I felt them the most. That was the spot where I mourned them annually, and then I avoided that place as though it was going to physically hurt me to be there.

In some ways, I knew I’d never healed from their loss. The psychiatrists told me I was too young to have suffered from anything like PTSD, but it didn't matter. Riley had been nothing but honest with me throughout my life, ensuring I knew where I’d come from and who Charlie and Sarah Moon had been. I knew what I’d lost at such a young age; I knew what I’d had the chance to be but had missed out on when I was too young to grasp it fully.

With the full moon hanging high and bright in the sky, I picked my way down the beach to stand at the water’s edge. Taking a deep breath, I held it briefly in my lungs before letting it escape. It smelled and tasted like the ocean, so familiar to me; it was the same comforting scent of my entire life.

On a whim, I stepped out of my chucks and waded into the water, yelping at the sharp cold assault on my ankles. Rolling my pant legs up, I took another few steps and threw my arms out, inhaling brine and fish and exhaling my troubled mind.

Van was too attractive for his own good, that was all. I lusted after him because he was hot, but it wasn't on me to fix him. My brain probably thought he was perfect for me because he was clearly not staying around. He was the love-em-and-leave-em type, exactly who I’d been choosing to sleep with since I became a legal adult. It would be much smarter of me to move on, knowing he was bad for me. Knowing my choices were bad for me.

But I wanted to heal his wounds, to be the one who taught him he wasn't damaged by his past unless he chose to be. He could be a better man than whatever haunted him from his past if he set his mind to it. But that path felt foolish, especially if he ran away and I was the one left hurting in the end.

With a sigh, I put my shoes back on, knowing I’d have to dry them out once I got home. When I made it back up the stone path to the parking lot, I would have sworn I felt someone watching me. My nape tingled, and I looked around to see who might be there.

I didn't see anything, and that made it worse. I would swear I wasn't wrong, but I didn't see anyone in the shadows or even further down the beach. As far as I could tell, the area was deserted.

So why did I feel as if someone had pinned their gaze to my back? My shoulders began to itch, and I reached behind me to scratch them. Trudging back down the road to the bakery, I kept my head on a swivel, uneasy in my town for the first time.

It was a relief to let myself in the back door, which I quickly closed and locked before going upstairs, locking my door immediately as well. Charlie meowed at me, and I picked him up to hug him close, needing his comfort.

The next morning, when I went down for coffee, Ellie waited to pounce the second I stepped through from the hallway to the kitchen.

“What was Jeremy doing here? Are you two getting back together?”

“Good morning, Ellie.” I hugged her, and she patted my back before letting me go. “No, not even close. He’s getting married and wanted to share the good news.”

“Oh.” The way her face fell was comical.

“You don't really want us to get back together, do you?”

I poured a cup of their amazing coffee, wishing for the millionth time that my best friend would tell me her secret so I could make it that way at home. As I took my first sip, Charlie sat beside me, curling his tail around his body.

“No, but I hate that you’re always alone.”

“I’ve learned to live that way, and to be content with it.”

Well, that was partially a lie. Sometimes I was extremely happy to come and go as I pleased, but sometimes I felt as if I was becoming a recluse. If not for Bookish, I would happily never see people.

“I hope you were gracious when he told you,” Ellie said with a wrinkled nose.

“Why wouldn't I be? He and I haven't been together in years.”