Unforgettable.
It was on Sunset Strand, years ago, that my life changed. That all the empty spaces in my heart were filled, and I found my home.
I let myself daydream and remember the day we swam with dolphins…
L’heure bleue.
The blue hour.
We’re over an hour and a half late when we return to the docks from our field excursion. I was expecting Nathan to scold me for not taking work seriously and not following the rules. Instead, he’s quiet. Not in a melancholy way, but in that way you get when you know something is about to change. He’s nervous. And I am too.
I mean, we swam with freaking dolphins today! I’d done it before during my stint at the Dolphin Research Center on Grassy Key, but wild dolphins just don’t do that.
But they did today.
“It’s too late to get it in. I’ll get my excuses ready,” he says as we step onto the dock. But I know him, and I know he’s going to get that damn log done tonight. He’s letting me off the hook.
“I’ll help you.”
He smiles, and we drive to The Blue Fin to work on the report.
Hours later, after we finish, he walks me home. The sky is ultramarine. The blue hour. Sunrise is coming.
“Are you thinking the same thing I’m thinking?” he asks, his sideways smile wide and mischievous.
“I am.” I grin and take his hand, then pull him towards the Sunset Strand access walk.
Carrying my sandals, I let myself enjoy the coolness of the sand against my feet. We stop at the tide line and sit.
I don’t think there’s any place you can feel closer to eternity than an empty beach before sunrise. Even out at sea, surrounded by the water, it’s not the same. On the beach, where it’s just you and the ocean, you stand in the in-between. The lemniscate. And if you let go of everything else and just exist in the moment, you can sense the infinite.
I watch Nathan and laugh as he rolls onto his belly and puts his chin on his crossed arms. He’s my best friend. I moved all the way to Maverick Key for him. To stay close to his brillianceand… to be near him. In my heart, I’ve always wanted more than friendship.
I join him, and we both gaze toward the water.
“I’m proud of your work on this project,” Nathan says, staring ahead.
“You’re an excellent teacher.”
I’m still looking at the water when I feel the gentle softness of his fingers brush across my cheek and turn me toward him. I lean in, hesitating before returning his gaze. Light golden-brown eyes. Warm and sharp. I know that look. Cautious but determined.
He’s going to bring it up.
That kiss earlier came out of nowhere. How many years have we known each other? Worked side by side. Laughed. Played. Slept in the same tent. It never occurred to me he might have dreamed of something more.
Just like me.
Nathan threads his fingers through my hair, his face open. His expression is one I’ve seen a million times before, but I never recognized it for what it is. “Crystal, today…”
There’s a ding from my cell phone.
His gaze stays fixed on me as I check the message.
Mark.
Are you home? I’m thinking about you.
Ugh. How do I tell Mark this little trial of ours isn’t working? I’ve been putting it off for weeks. But now—after that kiss—I’ve got to tell him today.
