She pulls away first, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“You’re just sad because I’m going to New York,” she says, forcing a smile. “That’s all this is about.”
I nod, grateful for the easy explanation. “That’s what it is.”
I stand at the water’s edge, watching waves crash against the shore. The sun hangs low on the horizon, slashing the dark sky in shades of red and pink.
My pulse races.
I’ve checked my watch twenty times since dropping Poppy at ballet. Time moves like molasses when you’re waiting for something that terrifies and thrills you in equal measure.
Sand rustles behind me.
I turn, my breath catching in my throat.
Amara approaches, her steps cautious, uncertain. Her bruised face is still stunning despite the purple shadows beneath her eyes.
The confidence I’d grown to love seems dimmed, but she’s here. That’s what matters.
“You came,” I say, the relief in my voice embarrassingly obvious.
She stops a few feet away. “I did.”
I extend my hand as my heart pounds against my ribs, waiting for her to take it. “Do you remember me?”
She looks at my outstretched fingers, hesitates, then slides her hand into mine. Her touch sends electricity through my veins, just like always.
“No,” she says softly, shaking her head. “I don’t remember you.”
My heart plummets. I try to mask my disappointment, but she catches it.
“But I found my diary,” she continues. “I read all about how I feel about you. How we met. How you told me you felt about me.”
I swallow hard. “You know about the website?”
She nods, looking away toward the ocean. “I can’t believe that person is me.”
“She is. But she’s only part of you.” I squeeze her hand gently. “Would you walk with me? Along the shore?”
“Okay.”
We move in silence for several steps, the wet sand giving beneath our feet, waves lapping at our ankles.
“In your diary,” I finally say, “did you read about our plans?”
“To run away together?” She glances at me. “After Poppy leaves for Juilliard?”
“Yes.”
“It seems...impulsive. Dangerous even.”
I laugh without humor. “It is. But I meant what I said then. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Why? Why risk everything for me when I might never remember you?”
“Because I’ve spent ten years in the dark. And then you came along.” I stop walking, turn to face her. “I never expected to feel this way again.”
She studies my face, her eyes searching for something familiar. “My diary says I love you. That I fell hard and fast.”
