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Until the cruise. Until I went against the very core of who I am and allowed myself to be selfish.
Maybe this is the universe punishing me for what I did. When I agreed to meet Zach, I knew what I was walking into. I knew my feelings for him were just as strong as the day I last saw him. I knew—Iknow—I’ll always love him. But I love Blake, too. More than anything in this world. I was just swept up in it for a moment. The first man I ever loved walked back into my life, looking at me just the way he always has, and I lost sight of things.
I wanted to feel the way I felt all those summers with him. Wanted to remember a time before responsibilities and stress kicked in. When I look at him, even now, I see the kid he was. The boy building sandcastles with me and burying me in the sand; the preteen who carved our names into the underside of the bar at his parents’ restaurant; the teenager who gave me my first kiss, who said he loved me more than anyone had ever loved anyone. The man who told me he’d marry me someday.
It’s my fault, not his, that didn’t happen.
I met Blake, fell in love, and stopped coming back. Stopped answering his calls. Stopped returning his texts.Ichanged the plan, not him. So, I guess, in a way, I felt I owed him a conversation.
When I saw him across the restaurant the first night, something flipped in me. A selfishness that made me feel both terrible and exhilarated at the same time. Lying to Blake about knowing him was silly. I should’ve just been honest, but a part of me wanted to keep the secret just for myself.
If I told them who Zach was, I had to share him. To downplay what we were, how much he meant to me once. And the truth is, I didn’t know how I felt about him at that moment. I hadn’t seen him since I walked away. I needed time to process.
So, for a while, I allowed myself to get swept up in what could’ve been. In the ghosts of memories of simpler times, in loving him as much now as I ever did. But when he kissed me, I felt the spell break. I knew if I crossed that line with him, there would be no going back. I pictured my husband—the sweet, trusting love of my life—sleeping upstairs in bed, and I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take things any further.
Saying goodbye to Zach, knowing it was for real this time, was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever done. It was the right thing, though. I know that.
Still, karma, maybe? It’s small when you compare the two, I think. But maybe not to Blake. Maybe not to Zach, even. I’ve hurt two amazing men who didn’t deserve it.
I force the thoughts away, refusing to wallow in self-pity. No matter what I’ve done or whom I’ve hurt, I don’t deserve this. No one does.
Whatever is coming for me, whoever is coming for me, I don’t deserve this.
My parents don’t deserve this.
Blake and Florence don’t.
Bitter tears sting my eyes as I hear a door open and shut from across the room I’m in. For a moment, there is only silence. Then I hear slow footsteps heading in my direction.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
They stop directly in front of me. I can hear him breathing, smell a hint of the smoky scent of his cologne. I hold my breath.
“Hello, Mae.”
His voice is familiar. I can’t explain it. Can’t put a finger on why, but I could swear I’ve heard it before.
“Hello,” I say softly.
“How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
He chuckles. “Yes, well, my men do tend to be a little rough. I’m sorry about that.”
“What are you going to do to me?” My worst fear comes out in the form of a question.
“I’m going to take the bag off your head.” Without another word, the dark cover is pulled over my face and the room comes into focus. The man has his back turned away from me as he places the bag on the chair behind him.
