“You’ll see,” he told her, lips twitching into a smile.
A breeze swept across the porch, stronger than usual. The clouds above started shifting—gray bleeding into the sky like spilled ink.
Claire tensed slightly. “What?”
Jaxon pointed toward the ocean. “Storm’s rolling in.”
He could hear it first—the low rumble of thunder, the soft hiss of wind weaving through the trees. Lightning danced far off, not close enough to worry, just close enough to admire.
“This is what I do,” he said, leaning back in the swing. “Anytime a storm rolls in off the sea... I sit right here and watch it.”
Claire didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, eating her quesadilla and watching the edges of the sky change.
But ten minutes in, she shifted in her seat.
“Okay. You’ve seen the storm. Ready to go watch a movie now?”
Jaxon turned to her slowly. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. It’s just rain.”
He blinked. “Right... go ahead and pick something. I’ll be in soon.”
She stood, dusted off her shorts, and walked inside without another word.
Jaxon stayed where he was, staring out at the way the clouds swallowed the horizon. The way the lightning crackled in crooked, beautiful chaos.
“I can’t believe she just said that,” he muttered to himself. “How do you live with a view like this and not want to witness it unfold?”
By the time he came inside, she already had the TV on.
“I can’t believe you missed half the movie to watch it rain,” she said, pausing the screen.
Jaxon sighed, setting the dishes in the sink. “I like to enjoy the simple things.”
“You live here. It rains all the time. I leave in two days, and instead of watching a movie with me, you choose that.”
He turned toward her, jaw tight. “Claire, I’m aware you’re leaving. But I’m not going anywhere. This is still my life. I didn’t stop living it just because you showed up.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” he snapped. “You wanted me to follow you inside. Like always. Like I’m supposed to chase behind every time you move.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re being hateful.”
“I’m being honest. There’s a difference.”
Claire stood now, her arms crossed, frustration flashing in her eyes. “You’re supposed to want to spend time with me.”
“And I have. Every second. Everything you’ve wanted to do, I’ve done. But the one moment I want to sit in peace—with you—you leave. And now I’m the asshole for not running after you?”
She said nothing.
He laughed once, bitter. “You know what I wanted, Claire? I wanted to sit outside in the middle of a storm with someone who understood why that matters. I wanted to share that with you. Not for you. With you.”
She still didn’t speak. Just picked up her phone.
The room crackled with tension. Jaxon leaned against the doorframe, jaw set.
