“You're right,” I admit, the words painful as they scrape past my pride. “I had made up my mind about you."
She watches me carefully, her eyes searching mine for sincerity.
“If I'm honest, I was terrified of how much I wanted you from the beginning. It was easier to paint you as somethingyou weren't than to admit how fucking vulnerable you made me feel.” I explain.
Her eyes drop to where our bodies meet beneath the water, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my chest. She takes a deep breath, her ribs expanding against mine.
“Did you...” she hesitates, voice suddenly fragile as glass. “Did you feel this way about me when Joe was still alive?”
Her question hits me like a physical blow. My brother's face flashes in my mind—his smile, so like mine but somehow brighter, more genuine. This is the question I’ve been dancing around in my own head. I have buried these feelings so deeply that I am completely unable to uncover them.
“I don't know what you want me to say,” I finally manage, my voice hollow, rubbing my forehead.
“The truth,” she whispers. “Just the truth, Liam.”
“I always thought you were beautiful. Anyone with eyes would, but Joe...” I trail off, memories of my brother's grin when he talked about her flooding my mind. “I tried not to.” The words feel like a betrayal even now. “I buried it so deep I convinced myself it wasn't there.”
She nods slowly, her eyes still downcast, a sadness coming over her.
“Baby, look at me.” I lift her chin to me. Her eyes meet mine, glistening, the vulnerability in her gaze makes my chest ache.
“I genuinely thought you hated me Liam,” she whispers, her voice breaking on the last word. “All this time, the way you looked at me, like I was something you wanted to annihilate. I thought—”
“I couldn't look at you without seeing him.” I interrupt, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Without seeing everything I'd lost and, in my mind, I could never have you. You were everything I wanted and could never allow myself to want. A twisted twist of fate.”
Her body presses against mine, our heartbeats syncing in a rhythm that feels both foreign and familiar.
“When Joe died, I thought I'd lost everything, Sara. It hurt so bad, it still feels suffocating. He was always the better half of me. The one who knew how to love without borders, but I resented anyone that made me feel weak.”
“Weak?” she whispers, her eyes searching mine.
“You are my weakness, Sara. I would never have acted on us if he were still around,” I continue, needing her to understand. “Never. You were never meant to be mine.”
A sudden shift occurs in Sara's expression, something flashing behind her eyes that I can't quite read. She sits up straighter onto her knees between my thighs, facing me, water cascading down her body, my breath catching at her grace and beauty, and I cup her face.
“Weakness,” she repeats, the word soft on her lips. She reaches up, her wet fingers tracing the contour of my jaw, “is that what you think this is?”
I swallow hard, unable to look away from her gaze. “What else would you call it?”
She shakes her head slowly, her eyes full of redemption.
“Strength, Liam. The courage to feel something, despite everything. Despite loss.”
Her lips softly find mine, kissing me so gently as she continues, “I've been holding onto ghosts, we both have. I've been so afraid of betraying Joe's memory that I've been punishing us both.”
I reach for her, but she shakes her head, needing to finish what she's started.
“I kept thinking, hoping, that if I let myself feel this—feel us, it would somehow erase what Joe and I had.” She places her palm against my chest, right over my heart, and I’m enthralled by her.
“But that's not how any of this works, does it? I was looking at it all wrong. It doesn't replace. It grows.” She leans into my neck, kissing me right under my ear. “It grows Liam, and you don’t have to worry about anyone else because despite how painful the road has been, I'm exactly where I want to be. I’d breathe in all the hurt and heal all of my scars over and over if it still led me to you. And perhaps destiny always intended me to be yours. We will never know for sure, but I am certain of it now.”
If Joe were still alive, would she ever be mine? Answers I’ll never find, but I have drawn a truth that was hidden beneath her gaze for far too long, and her words break something open inside me. I move forward, my mouth locks onto hers, my hands sliding into her wet hair, cradling her head as I pour everything I want to say into the kiss. She gasps against my lips in abandon, her body arching into mine.
“Sara,” I breathe against her mouth, barely breaking contact. “You're not my weakness. You're my ruin.”
I kiss her deeper, hungrier, as if I'm trying to consume the very essence of her confession. My hands roam over her skin, tracing the curve of her spine, the swell of her hips. She responds with equal fervor, her fingers digging into my shoulders, anchoring herself to me. I lift her closer onto my lap, her legs straddling me, our bodies pressed together in the cooling water.
“I've been drowning for years. Since before Joe died. I never thought I deserved to be happy… Never. And you have the power to make me so fucking happy, baby.”
