Page 81 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“I’m ready to go,” I said. “Ready for dinner. It’s an amazing seafood place. It’s so good.”

“Sounds great.”

The restaurant was stunning but I barely noticed. The aroma of grilled seafood was tantalizing, and the ambiance was calming but my attention was entirely on Kannon. He sat across from me, his dark eyes scanning the horizon where the city skyline gave way to open ocean. He had that same half-smirk he always wore when he didn’t want to admit he was impressed.

“You like it,” I teased, watching him sip his drink.

“It’s alright,” he said, the smirk widening just enough to betray him. “Not sure it beats the view from your dad’s place, though. Remember how the lake used to glow at sunset?”

I did remember. Too well. “I don’t know,” I replied, gesturing toward the view. “Ocean waves? Palm trees? City lights? It’s a tough call.”

“The view’s not just about the water, Merritt. It’s the memories. Night swimming, fishing off the dock, you trying to out-paddle me in that bright pink kayak.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “I did out-paddle you.”

“In your dreams.” He leaned back, his gaze softening. “The memories outweigh the scenery. That’s what makes it unbeatable.”

“You’re getting soft,” I accused, pointing my fork at him.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But only for a minute. Don’t get used to it.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics after our food arrived. I found myself genuinely enjoying the ease between us. We had not seen each other for ten long years and so much had changed about us and between us, but somehow, he felt the same. Rough around the edges, a little cocky, but steady in a way that felt like home.

“So,” he said, glancing around the restaurant before turning his attention back to me. “This is your life now, huh? Fancy cars, oceanfront condos, dinners at places like this?”

“What? It doesn’t suit me?” I arched a brow, challenging him.

“It suits you fine,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “It’s just different. I remember you saying you’d never leave home. That you wanted to stay close to your dad, buy a house…”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, stabbing at a piece of pasta. “Yeah, well. Things change.”

His grin faded and he nodded, waiting for me to go on.

“I needed something different,” I said, my voice quieter now. “After Mom died, I felt lost. I was always trying to be the person I thought she wanted me to be, but I didn’t know who that was. Moving here, starting fresh—it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

He watched me closely, his expression unreadable.

“But now?” I continued, swallowing hard. “Now Dad’s gone too, and I look back at all the time I lost… I can’t help but wonder if the choices I made to find myself only took me further from who I was supposed to be.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and uncomfortably honest. I hadn’t meant to say so much, but with Kannon, it was always hard to hold back.

“You’re still the same girl to me,” he said after a long moment. “Tough when you need to be, too kind for your own good. Like with that jerk on the plane. Confident and full of self-doubt at the same time. A workaholic. And, let’s not forget, a pasta fanatic.”

Despite myself, I smiled, glancing down at my plate of linguini. “I’ve changed, Kannon. Life changes people.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward. “But not entirely. You can dress it up all you want, but at your core? You’re still Merritt.”

The way he said my name made my heart ache. No one else could make it sound like that—like it was something sacred.

“Maybe. Can I ask you about Leah?”

“What about her?”

“I’m just curious to know the woman you married,” I said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Just curious. I want to understand you better. You see my life here. This is me. I want to know more about you and the last ten years.”