“At me?”
I don’t want to answer her but I have to. It’s only fair.
“Yeah, I was mad at you for a long time.”
“I was mad at you too.”
“But you’re not anymore.” It’s not really a question.
“No. Not anymore. Mostly, I feel like I found something I lost. Something really important, that I never got over. Now that I found it again, I want to make sure I’m careful not to lose it again.”
Fuck.
That’s almost exactly how I feel.
She just said it more succinctly.
“I have no intention of getting lost—or losing you either.”
Chapter 10
Victoria
Dinner is wonderful. We spend close to three hours enjoying a bottle of wine, appetizers, a three-course meal, and then an after-dinner drink. We talk about anything and everything, almost like no time has passed since our last date. Except it’s been four long years of living our lives separately. There’s so much to catch up on, but it’s not hard. In fact, being together is as easy as it ever was.
We’ve grown, changed, and experienced a lot of life this time but we’re fundamentally the same two people who fell in love at first sight. Part of me wants to say it’s my imagination, me finally back with the only guy I’ve ever loved.
But it doesn’t feel like my imagination.
And when he takes my hand and leads me down to the beach after dinner, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I kick off my high-heeled sandals and hold them in my free hand as we traipse through the sand toward the water. It’s dark now but still warm and there’s light coming from the restaurants along the water.
“It’s beautiful here,” I say, moving closer to him as we walk.
“I guess you still love the beach,” he says.
“Yup. I don’t get down here as often as I’d like but I try to.”
“Two of my teammates married professional surfers, although Scarlett is retired now. Anyway, she and her friend Tawny own a surf shop up in Cocoa Beach. We spend a lot of time up there. Surfing, hanging out at the beach, supporting the store.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is.”
“You still learning to play guitar?” I ask.
“I’m pretty good now,” he responds. “I’ll have to play for you sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
We amble along the shore, far enough from the water to keep from getting wet but close enough to enjoy the waves crashing onto the sand.
“I don’t know what to do now,” I say as we walk.
“You mean with us?”
“Yes.”
“I know. I’m having the same problem.”
