She squeezes my hand.
“His life with you. His home. And staying completely silent for ten years just to keep you safe? That’s not a man who didn’t care. That’s a man who cared too much and believed silence was the only way to protect you.”
Tears prick my eyes.
“You’re allowed to be angry about that silence,” she continues softly. “God knows I would be. I can’t imagine what you’ve carried all those years by yourself. But don’t hate him for something he had no control over.”
“That’s the thing.” My voice comes out quieter than I expect. “I can’t hate him. Not anymore.”
Emily hesitates, like she’s weighing whether to ask the next question.
“What happened over there?” she finally asks. “The crew was freaking out when we lost power—especially when your mics went dead.”
If they don’t know now, it’s probably best they never do.
“Last night…” I swallow. “God, Emily. I’ve never felt anything like that.” Heat creeps up my neck even thinking about it. “And it scares the hell out of me.”
I stare out at the endless stretch of ocean.
“But I still want him.”
She exhales slowly. “If you let him back in—and history repeats itself, no matter the reason—you’re afraid of getting hurt all over again.”
She reads me like an open book.
I nod, my throat tight.
She takes both my hands in hers. “Here’s the thing. Forgiveness isn’t about erasing the pain. It’s about deciding if the man in front of you is worth the risk. The longer he stays here, the longer he fights for you—even if you choose someone else—the more proof he’s giving you.”
“But what if that proof is only temporary?” Anxiety twists tighter in my chest.
“Lyla, sweetie,” Emily squeezes my fingers. “You don’t have to decide everything right this second. For now, until he fully proves himself to you, protect your heart. But don’t shut him out completely. Just…watch him. Observe.”
I turn my gaze back to the water stretching endlessly ahead of us. Sunlight scatters across the ripples.
“What if I choose wrong?”
“There’s risk in everything we do. That’s just life.” She shrugs lightly. “And if it turns out you did choose wrong? Then you choose again. Except for death, almost nothing in this world is permanent.” She studies me for a moment longer. “But don’t choose out of fear. Choose the man—whoever he ends up being—because you want him. Because the risk feels worth it.” She stands, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m here if you ever need someone to listen. No matter what.”
As she walks away, I sit there with her words.
My heart feels torn. Torn between safety…and the terrifying pull of him. And the only decisions I feel capable of making are to take a long shower and put on fresh clothes.
Chapter Fourteen
Lyla
* * *
Despite the scalding shower and clean clothes, my skin still feels branded.
Emily’s words won’t stop looping, low and relentless like the tide dragging sand from under my feet. Hate what he did all you want, but you have to admit how much he gave up. Vincent’s threats. The impossible choice Scott made at eighteen. The way his body had felt like coming home and a free fall at the same time—hard muscle, rough hands, that low growl against my throat when he’d pinned me last night and rasped You’re still mine.
What could have been. What still is.
But sacrifice doesn’t equal safety. Not here. Not when every camera is hungry and the show keeps rewriting the rules just to watch us bleed.
The wooden platform creaks beneath my sandals as the rest of us gather. Salt wind snaps at my pink tee and shorts, plastering the thin cotton to my chest and hips like a second skin. I cross my arms, pretending it’s the breeze and not the memory of Scott’s hands that has my nipples tightening.
