Page 49 of Hearts on the Line

I roll my eyes. “My brother didn’t pick up his phone.”

The mention of Branden hangs between us like a wall. My brother was Ethan’s best friend, his teammate, and the reason everything fell apart. The reason Ethan ended up in the back of that police car.

Something shifts in the air, and I turn away, sinking down on the front steps before the weight of it all crushes me.

Ethan gives me a few minutes, then sits beside me. We watch the waves crash against the beach below, the lighthouse blinking in the distance.

“Want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asks.

I fold my arms over my knees and lay my head down, turning to face him. Making myself small like I always do when things get too real.

“My mom sold it without telling me after the funeral.” The words taste bitter. “Not that I had the money to buy it from her, but I was hoping she would hold on to it for a while.”

“I thought you didn’t want to come back.”

“Didn’t feel right to come back.” I swallow hard, wiping at my eyes.

Ethan’s hand finds my spine, his fingertips soft against the linen of my dress. This is what always happens between us—the line between more goes blurry, and I can’t think straight.

But this time, I don’t pull away. I push into his touch, scooting closer until I lean against him. His arm wraps around me, and for a few minutes, we stay like that.

He clears his throat. “Do you remember that night we snuck out and made a bonfire on the beach, and then we all fell asleep and the tide came in⁠—”

“And your mom came down screaming at us at five in the morning because she thought we’d drown in the beach chairs?” I point to the cluster of beach roses. “I remember throwing up in those roses. You kept making those disgusting Malibu rum drinks.”

“You liked them enough.”

I shudder. “That night, maybe.”

We fall into easy banter about Jack and the fireworks, about all the stupid things we did as kids. But underneath it, there’s this current of something else, and I think I’m finally ready to face it.

“Are you mad Jack gets to play hockey and you don’t?”

The question comes out before I can stop it. His face shifts as he scratches the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s uncomfortable.

“He loves it,” he says diplomatically. “He’s good too. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to spend his life on a lobster boat.”

“That’s okay for you?”

He shrugs it off like he always does. But I can see the weight of the choice he made, the life he gave up, fall over him. Because of my brother. Because of me.

“No point in thinking about what-ifs, Sunny.”

Silence settles between us as the sky fades from orange to the brilliant teal of dusk. My head rests against his shoulder, and for the first time in years, I feel something in me settle back where it belongs.

I peek up, losing myself in those eyes that have haunted my dreams for over a decade.

“I need to stay for a bit, Ethan.”

“There’s no rush tonight.”

“No.” I sit up straighter, finding my voice. Finding my strength. “I mean here. In Merritt Point. I need a summer here, but then I’m leaving.”

I brush my hair back behind my ear, my heart hammering as I make the decision that’s been building since the moment I saw him jump out of his truck and storm toward me in the rain.

“I’m done running from things that scare me. I’ve spent twelve years trying to prove I could be someone else, somewhere else. But maybe the person I’m supposed to be has been here all along.”

I dart a glance at his mouth, then back up to his eyes.