“No.” I stop blinking as I stare at the waves crashing onto the shore, and then I look out further at the surfers trying to stay on their feet. “I don’t. It sounds weird, but all I remember is her perfume and Malibu. My therapist thought I probably blocked out a lot of my childhood memories. She says that’s normal when there’s been a trauma.”
We lie back on the sand with our hands entwined, and I close my eyes and allow myself to dream.
And I hear myself say, “You want to stay here tonight?”
Dylan doesn’t flinch although I’m pretty sure he had to work at it. “Sure.”
“Because of your parents’ visit,” I say quickly.
“Right.”
“So.” I start talking very fast. “At your house?”
“Yeah. We can drive by my other place tonight, since we’ll have time now, and I can show you where I actually live.”
“And I want to stop by and see Bessie and Balaster again.”
“Why don’t you bring them with us for the night?”
“Dylan, they’ll get fur everywhere. And your place is so nice—I don’t want them to ruin it.”
“I don’t care. God, I bought the house to live in it. Let’s actually make it look lived in. It’s just been sitting there like a freaking monument.”
I squeeze his hand.
* * *
We pull off at Palisades Park in Santa Monica on our way to dinner. It’s a beautiful evening, and I lean on the fence by the overlook and stare down at the ocean below. I love the smell of sage that’s so strong this time of year. I love the rose bushes lining the walkway. No one is nearby, and except for a lone woman seeking a quick picture with Dylan, nobody approaches us at all. His arms are around me, my head’s on his shoulder, and right about now, life feels more perfect than it ever has.
“Look.” Dylan’s turned his head to the right.
I glance over and see a bride and groom as well as plenty of photographers.
“Lots of people get married down here by the water. It’s where I was going to have my wedding when I was engaged.”
I try to suck that last part back in, but it’s too late.
Dylan tenses behind me.
“You—” He pauses for breath. “You were engaged?”
I sigh. “It was no big deal.”
“Marriage was no big deal?” His voice is low and strained.
He takes a seat on an empty bench a few feet away, and I reluctantly join him.
“Of course marriage is a big deal,” I say quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t care for Joel is all.”
“Well, why’d you get engaged to him then?”
Dylan’s possessive tone would annoy me if it were coming from any other man, but from him? I enjoy the low growl in his voice as he asks me the question. I bite back a smile at the way he’s glaring at me but pretending not to be. And I put my hand in his and tell him the raw truth.
“Because I was so lonely.” My eyes fill with tears without my meaning to. “I missed having a family. I always kind of feel that emptiness, and I probably always will. And of course, it’s no excuse for getting into a bad relationship. But I don’t know—Joel asked me to marry him after a couple months of dating, and I jumped.” It was the longest I’d ever been with someone. It was also one of the worst jokes I’ve ever played on myself. Because I didn’t love him, not even a little. “Looking back, I can’t believe I ever convinced myself to say yes. I really can’t. I sure as hell didn’t love him. Or him me.”
Dylan squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry you were lonely.”
“Me too.” I look into his dark eyes focused on me, and I know he’s still feeling vulnerable. “It wasn’t something big. There was no ring—not that that matters obviously—but we had no love or commitment is what I mean. We were drunk, we had sex, and he said, ‘so you wanna get hitched?’”
