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“You’re our friend,” Blake adds, stepping up beside Annabelle now that he’s finally got his jeans back on.
I look at him, at the boy who’s been by my side since we were twelve and I break. I swear to god, I hear my heart fucking break in two. He has his arm around Annabelle’s shoulder, holding her tight against him and it ruins me. Because here in front of me is a boy who’s claimed my girl as his own and I know that I will never be able to stay friends with either of them. It’ll hurt too much. So I do the only thing I can. I walk away.
“Not anymore,” I spit.
The memory is stillas painful today as it was back then. Twenty years might have passed by, but that doesn’t make it any easier to remember. In fact, it’s so much harder now because I never got the chance to make peace with Annabelle and Blake. I never got to say goodbye.
“Hey, are you okay?” a pretty voice asks me, one that sounds so familiar that chills run over my skin. I need to get a grip, it’s just the woman from the beach not a ghost from my past.
Ignoring her, I draw in a breath, and continue climbing the stone steps.
“You looked like you were going to pass out or something,” she continues, climbing the stairs behind me. There’s concern in her voice, but something else too. Curiosity, interest even.
“I’m fine,” I bite out.
“Yeah, if you call a personality lobotomy fine,” she mutters.
“I’m not here to make friends,” I snap. I’m not sure why I choose to say that of all things, but it’s what comes out of my mouth regardless.
“Then tell me what, exactly, are you doing here onmybeach?” she snaps back, that curiosity making way for annoyance now as my foot hits the top of the stairs.
Her beach? What the fuck?
I twist on my feet, staring down at her. She has that bloody ridiculous straw hat on and despite looking up at me, I can only see the bottom half of her face because of the way it flops over her forehead. From this position, I also have a bird’s eye view of her cleavage encased in a navy swimsuit that shouldn’t be sexy but somehow is. My mouth suddenly goes dry at the sprinkle of freckles across her shoulders and chest that only seem to draw my gaze back to her ample cleavage.
For fuck’s sake. This is not what I need right now. Get in, get out. That was the plan. I do not need a distraction.
I. Do. Not.
“This beach belongs to the Silva family, and as far as I’m aware Ma Silva is the only surviving heir,” I comment with as much conviction as I can muster.
The woman before me laughs, the light, tinkling sound sending my pulse racing as it draws more long forgotten memories to the forefront of my mind. Coming back here was a mistake. I’m clearly losing my fucking head.
“Not the only surviving heir,” the woman responds, before removing her sunhat and smiling at me with eyes that are the exact same shade as the girl I once loved.
“Annabelle?” I whisper, knowing how ridiculous that sounds the moment her name leaves my lips, because this girl can’t possibly be the Annabelle I knew. She’s dead.
The girl’s smile falters, her deep blue eyes flashing with a pain that reflects my own.
“No, I’m Annabelle’s daughter.”
