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We live in such a beautiful place with the ocean on our doorstep and the mountains cradling this city.
If this is it for us, it’s a picture-perfect finish.
I really should shut my mind up and appreciate every second.
The wind streams across my face as we plow through the open waves, the edge of coolness softened by the summer evening.
I hold up my fingers, feeling the way the breeze slips through them like invisible silk.
Seagulls cackle overhead, and for a second, I can believe we’re alone in the world.
Nothing but us.
Shepherd and Molly and me. After we head back to her, Molly leans her head against my hip, enjoying the rush of air through her fur.
“Thanks again for doing this. I hope it isn’t interrupting your work too much,” I say, wondering if he’ll tell me anything.
“Dess, I would’ve dragged you here. When I heard about the whales, I couldn’t let you miss it.” He glances at me kindly and then looks back, leaning on the railing.
When did our conversations become so stilted?
It’s like the air clogs with everything we’re not saying, and nothing else can get through.
“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a kid,” I tell him. “They’re so rare. I mean, it’s such anunlikelyexperience, you know? This group is the first one that’s been spotted in Washington waters all year, I think.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “You’ve got to seize your chances. Grab them and hold the hell on.”
My heart twists again.
“...do you think we’ll really see them today? I know it’s never guaranteed, especially with how fast the weather changes up in the islands.”
“Guess there’s some thunder and wind later, but we should have a good window of opportunity.” Shepherd walks over to the lounge chair where he set his bag down and pulls out his tablet. He shows me the pulsing green dot that looks like our last whale report, not far from Friday Harbor on San Juan Island.
“They were here around noon,” he says. “No promises we’ll find them, of course, but at least we know the area. You feeling lucky today, Miss Destiny? Like you’re going to live up to your name?”
Damn him.
The way he smiles crushes what’s left of my heart.
I have to turn away, blotting my eyes as I pretend to fix my windswept hair before I can face him again.
“Everybody used to make dumb jokes about my name in middle school. I don’t need you joining in,” I tease back, loving and hating how he laughs.
It’s an amazing sound, almost as rare as those breathtaking animals.
This is such a perfect moment—and this pit in my chest is ruining it.
I feel every tear of my heart like thin paper ripping apart.
Slowly but surely, piece by piece, one lost second at a time.
Go ahead and call it cheesy and sentimental.
It won’t change the fact that I’m losing him and I hate it and there’s nothing I can do.
The thing they never tell you about falling for someone is that sometimes you don’t land in their arms for a happily ever after.
Sometimes you miss, you hit the pavement, and you shatter apart.
