And that was that. So simple. And why shouldn’t it be? Falling for someone wasn’t supposed to be hard. And when I was with Scott, it wasn’t.
“You remind me of her, you know?” he said.
Instinctively, I knew who he meant. His mother.
“Not in looks,” he added. “More… in the way you carry yourself. You’ve got her same strength.”
Scott was comparing me to the woman he’d loved most, the one who’d shaped him, the one he’d watched die. And he didn’t flinch after saying it. His gaze held steady, certain. To him, it wasn’t a line. It was truth—the highest praise he had.
A lump rose in my throat. My whole life I’d been measured by what I wasn’t—never thin enough, obedient enough, perfect enough. My mother’s voice had carved those judgments deep. But lying in Scott’s arms, hearing him call me strong like her… the old shame lost its grip. He didn’t see disappointment. He saw me. And he saw strength.
“I hope I can someday live up to her. To what she meant to you.”
He lifted his hand and traced his thumb along my skin. “You already do.”
His fingers slid to the back of my neck and drew me in. Thekiss was unhurried, less about heat and more about promise. Everything we hadn’t figured out how to say passed between us. When we finally broke apart, he hovered close, and something heavier settled behind his eyes.
“It was an accident,” he said. “Her death. It never should’ve happened.”
I could feel the hesitation, the way his words were fighting their way up his throat, and instinctively I stayed quiet, letting his memories quietly reveal themselves.
“We were in the car when she spotted a dog on the freeway. My mom volunteered with an animal rescue. Carried a slip lead in her car just in case.”
He closed his eyes, inhaled, then opened them again. “She didn’t hesitate. Pulled over, got out, and in a few minutes, she’d coaxed the terrified dog right to her. And as she wrapped the lead around his neck, he lurched forward…” Scott’s voice cracked, and he stopped, taking in a breath. “Dragged her into oncoming traffic.”
“Oh, my god.” The words tore out of me. “You didn’t see—”
“Yes.” His nod was slow, agonizing. “The whole thing. Right in front of me.”
Tears filled my eyes, feeling his pain like it was my own. Empathy wasn’t something I’d grown up with. Emotions were to be hidden, managed, pushed down. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t have the right words, so I leaned into him, letting my closeness say what I couldn’t. We lay there, silent but connected, the waves keeping time for us. Our breathing fell into an easy rhythm, and somewhere inside it, the night slipped away, leaving morning to catch us by surprise.
“Michelle!”
The sharp voice cut through my dream, snapping me awake.
Scott stirred beside me as sunlight poured across the deck. My father was standing a few feet away, his cold, furious expression carved from marble. His boardroom face.
“Daddy!” I scrambled upright, only then realizing I was completely naked. I yanked the blanket higher. “How did you—?”
Scott had somehow snagged his jeans off the deck and was halfway into them when he swore. The buttons were all wrong. He looked like he’d assembled himself out of spare parts in a panic.
“The neighbor called me. Said there were trespassers.” His eyes swept over me in disgust. “Are you…? My god. Put some clothes on. What a disgrace.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said, the lie so pitiful it almost insulted both of us. “He’s my friend.”
“Your friend?” My father’s voice cracked like a whip. “You’re naked, Michelle. With an equally naked dock rat.”
Dock rat. My shame curdled into fury.
Scott straightened, barefoot, shirtless, out of place, and still somehow dignified. “With respect, sir,” he said, “don’t talk to your daughter like that.”
My jaw dropped. No one spoke to my father that way. Not employees. Not colleagues. Not even my mother, when he got that look in his eyes.
And yet here was Scott—the surfer boy my father had dismissed on sight—planting himself between a man who could ruin him with a phone call and me. The audacity stole my breath. The bravery made me proud. And the loyalty, when he owed me nothing, made me want to cry.
My father didn’t move, and for a split second, something like hurt flickered behind the fury.
It didn’t last.
