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The past comes bubbling back to the surface and I snuggle deeper into his arms, trying my best to push the thoughts from my mind. The past doesn't matter. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
“Come on,” I say, breaking the moment. “We don't have a whole lot of daylight left.” I step out of his embrace, taking his hand again as I turn and continue on down the stone path.
Westin doesn't say anymore and within minutes, we are approaching the entrance to the lighthouse. The building isn't much. Brick and white siding cover the exterior, which is worn and faded from the weather and water.
Technically the lighthouse is closed outside of the summer months, but one of the groundskeepers is a regular of mine and was able to get permission for us to stop out and visit. The only catch is, we aren't technically allowed to go inside, but that's not a problem seeing how it's not the actual house that I brought Westin to see, but rather the view, the peace that comes with removing yourself from a world where others exist. It's about the closest thing to being on a desert island that you can get in the great state of Maine.
Walking around the outside of the house, I lead Westin to the edge of the water on the far side and take a seat on the stone ledge that overlooks the open sea. It sits slightly higher than the path, acting somewhat as a half wall to keep the water from sloshing up onto the walkway.
Westin takes a seat next to me, resting his hand on my upper thigh as we sit in silence. Neither of us speak for a good five minutes, just taking in the beauty and peace surrounding us. Eventually he drapes his arm over my shoulder and pulls me closer to his body. Snuggling into his side, I can't help but feel like in all the years I have been coming here, it's never felt quite so perfect.
“This is incredible.” Westin's voice breaks through the sound of the wind rushing around us and the water lapping below.
“It is,” I agree, rubbing my hands together to warm them.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I forgot places like this exist,” he says, looking out over the water.
I take a moment to study him. From the side, his jawline is even more defined, his features more perfect. He is so incredibly beautiful. Like a masterpiece carved from stone. Every inch flawless, brilliant. He’s the type of beauty that literally takes your breath away.
From the corner of his eye he catches me staring and turns to face me, a slow smile pulling up the side of his mouth.
“What?” I say, feeling self-conscious and trying to play it off like I wasn't staring at him.
“You're beautiful,” he says, brushing my crimson cheek with the back of his hand, before leaning in and slowly lowering his mouth to mine.
The moment the warmth of his lips touch mine, heat rushes through my body, warming even the coldest of my extremities. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, loving the warmth of his mouth on mine.
He pulls away much earlier than I would like, but when he drops his forehead to mine and stares deeply into my eyes, I forget all about the kiss entirely. With Westin, it's always been a physical connection. But right now, he's showing me a level of intimacy I didn't even know he was capable of.
He's not trying to rip my clothes off. He's not telling me all the dirty things he wants to do to me as he runs his hands across my naked body. And while I love everything about that Westin, there is something to be said about having the man you have loved for half your life look at you the way he’s looking at me right now.
“Scar.” He pulls back a couple of inches. “There's something I need to tell you.” He hesitates. “About Jonathan.”
“Don't,” I say, freeing one of my hands from his to rest my fingertips across his lips. “I don't want to talk about my father or anyone else right now,” I say, watching the indecision in his eyes before he finally nods in agreement. “Tell me later, over dinner, with lots of wine.” I smile, even though every fiber inside of me wants to know what he was about to say. But I refuse to let Jonathan Ryan ruin this moment for me. He's already taken so much. I won't let him have this.
“Deal.” He smiles, relief flooding his face. “Come here.” Westin leads me the ten steps to the far edge of the water and slides in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist before dropping his chin to my shoulder.
Together we watch the sun disappear over the horizon and the darkness begin to surround us. The light from the lighthouse shines brightly over the now black water, providing our only means of light.
The moment is incredible. The feeling of his arms wrapped around me, of his hot breath on my cheek, of his thumping heartbeat against my back. If I had to pick a perfect moment, this would be it.
“I love you, Scarlett,” he whispers, straightening his posture behind me before turning me to face him.
He’s almost completely shrouded in darkness, but there is enough light that I can make out his face as he pulls me closer to him, his eyes skating across my face before finally meeting mine.
“I need you to know that, okay? Know that I love you.” The sense of urgency in his voice causes uneasiness to stir in my stomach.
Before I can think too much of it, he leans in. The kiss is gentle, like a whisper across my lips, and then it's over and his strong arms close around me once more.
“I love you, too,” I say softly, my words barely audible. I know by the way his body tightens around me that he heard me. And I know he realizes what it means.
I'm giving up control.
Until now I hadn’t expressed my feelings for him since our reunion just over a couple of months ago. I don't know if I was more scared that saying the words would give him power or simply make me weaker. But what are words if the meaning behind them is true? Whether I speak them or simply know them to be true in my heart, it's there all the same.
I love this man. I love him more than the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. I love him in a way that sends panic through every inch of my body. A fear that I can't quite extinguish.
When you love someone this much, what happens if you lose them? Do you ever truly recover from losing the one you know you're meant to be with? I know the answer without thinking any further. No. We never truly get over losing the person we feel we are meant to be with. I know, because I’ve already lost him once before. And I’m determined to never lose him again.
Tightening my grip on him, I squeeze him closer to my body, willing him to never leave again. He is my sanity in a world of crazy. My calm in the middle of chaos. My light in the darkness.
And as we stand here together, watching the bright light of the lighthouse dance off the dark water, I think we both sense the turning point for us. The moment that we both realize that a choice needs to be made. The moment where we admit that neither one of us wants to give up what we have but we aren't willing to give each other up either.
Or at least, I’m not willing to give him up. I can only hope it's the same for him.
