“It’s a part of your dad’s memory, so you’ll keep it. We’ll stay here when we visit.”
“Right.” She thought about waking up at sunrise to tall buildings and concrete. Thought about having strict structure to her days based on Everett’s and Kelsey’s needs. Thought about not needing to hold a job or have a purpose because he’d take care of all her needs.
“This is going to be perfect. God, I love you,” he said, closing the distance between them and gently taking her in his embrace. The familiar warmth and strength of him soaked into her tense muscles. Hekissed her and his taste swamped her, the scent of musk and the man she loved with her whole heart. When he eased away, his face practically beamed with excitement. “I know this is a lot and you need to process. But I think you’ll realize it’s everything we both want.”
With one last kiss, he pulled away. “I gotta go. See you later.”
He left.
Rowan stared at the closed door. As her brain ticked back on after her body’s weakness, she replayed the conversation.
Then realized there hadn’t been any.
No discussion or argument. Nothing. Just him telling her everything he’d decided and how great it would all be. Had Everett assumed she’d pack up her shit and leave Hawaii just because they’d decided they loved each other?
She paced back and forth, frantically going over the scene. Okay, in a weird way it was romantic. He wanted to sweep her away and spend their future together. But in true Everett fashion, he hadn’t listened to her response, and figured he’d simply push forward and fix everything.
And that was when the anger hit.
How dare he act with such arrogant smugness! Yes, she loved him and Kelsey. Yes, she wanted this relationship to work. But he’d just assumed she’d be thrilled for him to take her away from all of this and into his life, where he didn’t have to change a thing.
Her head spun. The pressure inside felt like an explosion ready to happen.
Rowan didn’t take long to decide what she needed.
Within the hour, her feet were on the dirt path leading to Cliffs, her new board planted beside her. Studying the line of surfers, Rowan let the feel of the waves and the direction of the breeze settle in. Down below, the break was already alive, sets marching in clean, steady lines.
Perfect for clearing a head full of static.
Lea was already there, as if called by a higher power. Emotion pricked the back of her throat as her friend stood beside her, not looking surprised she’d suddenly shown up. “You picked a goodday,” Lea said, nodding toward the water. “Light trades, mid-tide pushing in. Sets are shoulder-high, maybe a few overhead on the outside. Nothing too wild. Enough to remind you you’re alive.”
Rowan looked down at the reef shelf and the familiar funnel of the inside bowl. Her pulse picked up, but not with fear. Something like anticipation. Something she’d shoved down so long it had grown stiff and unused.
“You scared?” Lea asked lightly.
“Of you? Always,” Rowan said.
“Of the ocean.”
Rowan ran her hand over the rail of her board. “No. I’m scared of remembering how much I missed this.”
Lea’s expression softened. “Then let’s remind you. Come on.”
The water wrapped around Rowan’s ankles like a greeting she wasn’t sure she deserved. She paddled out beside Lea, muscles warming, breath syncing with the rhythm she used to live by. Halfway to the lineup, Lea said, “Sets are looking clean. When you’re ready, pick one. Don’t overthink it.”
As if Rowan ever could outthink this place.
The next set rolled in. Three waves, the first two workable, the third heaving over the far reef. Lea whistled. “That third one’s yours.”
Rowan’s chest tightened in an old, familiar way. Lea paddled to the shoulder and grinned. “Go get your joy back.”
Rowan turned, stroked hard, let the wave lift her. The drop wasn’t fast. It was honest—steady, powerful, the kind of wave that didn’t demand perfection. The board connected like it remembered her. She carved down the line, rail biting into the face, spray catching sunlight and scattering into the air.
And for the first time in months—maybe a year—she wasn’t broken or afraid or stuck between who she’d been and who she was supposed to become.
She was just . . . free.
When she kicked out and paddled back to the lineup, Lea slapped the water. “There she is! Damn, Rowan, I felt that one.”
