I chuckle under my breath as she hangs up, tosses the phone onto a towel, and pulls on her denim shorts. She strides toward the shore, golden hair gleaming like spun sunlight, looking like a goddess walking the earth.
Sam’s on his feet in an instant, trailing after her. Probably this is not the best moment for me to talk to her.
When I roll back onto my side, Vincent’s watching me again. His eyes smile without moving his lips.
I look up at Steven, searching for an anchor, but he’s absorbed in a phone call. Judging from his expression, it’s a supplier.
Is it selfish to want Steven to pull me back to him, to smile at me with his eyes? Sometimes it feels like... No. I shake the thought away because it’s ridiculous.
He needs me. I’m his girlfriend. I care about us, and I can’t lose him.
So why does it feel like someone keeps knocking at the door of my heart, begging to be heard?
I glance back at Vincent, who’s now staring up at the sky and my heartbeat stumbles, racing. I turn to Steven again, and pain grips my chest. Finally, he looks up, offers me a small smile, and mouthsI love you.
I sigh.
I need to clear my head.
-*?? . ??? ? ?.-*??
"Steve!"
My boyfriend rolls his eyes. "Like I said something wrong."
In the last few hours, things have spiraled, and I want to make them right, but I don’t know how.
It’s true that Steven went too far this time, but he’s going through a lot—his surgery, Vincent’s situation, and now we’ve managed to argue twice already. First because Will and I laughed too loudly, then because I asked too many times if he remembered his doctor’s appointment.
We’ve never fought this much before. It’s not Vincent’s fault. He has nothing to do with it. It’s like a vase cracked between Steven and me, and every time something happens and we don’t talk, the crack grows wider.
The truth? We’ve never been a couple that communicates much. Maybe what kept us together was pretending everything—our lives, our relationship—was perfect. But the problem now isn’t between us. It’s between Steven and Max, and they need to work it out if the group’s going to stay intact. I love all my friends and I don’t want to lose any of them.
If only Steven would open up. If only he’d trust me enough to say what’s really eating at him.
Aurora has her eyes closed, shutting herself off from the tension. Sam and Maggie still haven’t returned from their walk. Max watches Steven with confusion written all over him. Will’s handing out fruit popsicles, trying to smooth things over, while Vincent picks at his cuticles like he wants to tear them away.
I open my mouth to say something, but my phone rings. I snatch it from my skirt pocket—it’s my mother.
My heart leaps, my smile so wide it hurts. I reach for Steven’s hand, but he’s too busy arguing with Max. I let go and catch Vincent’s gaze. He arches a brow when I flash him my screen. Then I run toward the parking lot to take the call.
I lean against Steven’s car door. "Hey? Ash—"
My mother’s voice cuts me off, sharp as glass. "Asher doesn’t want to talk to you."
It feels like my whole world just collapsed. Not again. "What? But... I thought—please, put him on. Just a minute."
"I said he doesn’t want to talk to you, Nova Elizabeth. Try again at Christmas."
I’ve been trying for six years. Six years of trying.
"Mom, please—just a few minutes. I can send more money if—"
Her words slice through me. "It’s no use trying to buy us with money. You’re just like your father. You destroy families, then think gifts can fix it. Try again at Christmas. Maybe he’ll have forgotten what a shitty sister you are."
"I—Okay."
"I’m sorry, honey."
