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Dane kisses me softly, the cool scent of Japanese wistaria and Queen of the Night filling my lungs.
“I saw that tattoo the very first day you were here. From the moment you stepped out of that hideous orange car, everything about you was so electric—it’s like you jolted me and restarted my heart.”
“Then why didn’t you text me?” I ask because I need to know. “And why wouldn’t you dance with me on the beach?”
“I’ll tell you,” Dane says. “But first, can I fix my mistake?”
I nod though I don’t quite know what he means.
“Wait here…”
He reenters the house then returns with a portable speaker, which he sets on a stump, careful not to crush the frilly Chanterelles growing from the old, dead wood.
The music that plays is soft and lilting but melancholy, too. In Dane’s eyes, I see the sadness that’s always there though he tries to hide it with anger and arrogance.
I understand because I’m sad, too, but I hide it for Jude’s sake. Pretending to be yellow sunshine when my heart is heavy with dark blue ocean.
I work and I work like that will fix my problems. And maybe it will, but it never fixes how I feel.
Dane takes me in his arms, his hands on my waist, while mine link behind his neck. He looks down into my face and I look up into his, and in this otherworldly light, there’s no barrier between us. There’s only him and me and the gently bobbing fireflies.
“I wanted to dance with you,” Dane says. “I was aching to take you in my arms…but Lila was the first person I ever danced with. The only person until now. After she died, I swore I’d never dance again.”
Unconsciously, his eyes flit to the house then back to me again. Guilt weighs him down like chains draped over every limb.
“Who did you promise?”
“I promisedher,” Dane says miserably. “I swore it.”
“But Dane…you can’t live your life like that forever. I don’t think that’s what she’d want.”
He laughs bitterly. “You don’t know Lila—that’s exactly what she’d want.”
“What was she like?” I say softly, though I know I’m asking for trouble. Whatever Dane tells me will gnaw at my brain.
“Gorgeous, charming, witty,” he says, and each word is a bite. “But also wild and reckless, with a horrible temper. We fought constantly. I thought that was passion—it was passion. But it was anger and resentment, too. We hurt each other again and again. But we loved each other so hard, I never would have—I never wanted it to stop.”
I don’t want to push, but I have to know the truth. We can’t be together otherwise.
“What happened?”
Dane swallows, throat jerking.
“We were kids when we met. Barely teenagers when we started dating. I was angry about my condition and jealous when she’d go anywhere without me. Lila was faithful, but she was also a flirt. And me…” He makes a disgusted sound and shakes his head. “I’m a shitty person, Remi, I always have been. But I’m not a murderer, I swear to you.”
I believe him. I’ve believed him from the beginning, before I had any reason to. Maybe I still don’t have a reason, except what I feel.
“Everyone’s shitty sometimes,” I say. “I wouldn’t want you to see the worst and stupidest things I’ve done.”
“You’re too forgiving.”
“That’s what Jude says.”
“Maybe he’s trying to tell you something.”
“About twenty times a day—but I’m a slow learner.”
“That’s not true.”
