“When she didn't have to behave like a princess anymore, she got to just be herself.”
Brooklyn touches my hand and says, “And she learned that she was smart, and strong, and a good friend.”
“What about her prince? Did he rescue her? Did the bad man find her?”
"Well,” Brooklyn says. “The bad man kidnapped the prince, so the princess rescued him.”
“No,” Emery interrupts. “That’s not how it works. The prince rescues the princess.”
B looks at me and grins. “Maybe the princess knows how to kick ass.”
Avery pulls on Brooklyn’s sleeve and whispers, “Ass is a bad word.”
“So, did the princess give the prince true love’s kiss?” Ivery asks.
“Under the stars?” Avery continues.
“No, I like it better when they kiss during the day. That's what makes the birdies happy. They chirp and fly around their heads,” Emery says.
“Let's just say the story is still being written,” I tell them. “But what's important is that the princess vanquished the bad man and now she's back home. With her little sister princesses.”
The triplets leap on me in a group hug.
“Time for sleep,” I tell them. “I love you.”
As I kiss them each on the forehead, I'm overcome with emotion. This is what drove me. This exact moment. My sisters safe, happy, and home.
B grabs my hand and leads me out of their room. “So, would kick-ass princess Keatyn like to go out on the beach with me?”
“Princess Keatyn would love that,” I tell him.
“I’ll grab a couple beers. You go find us a good spot.”
I go out the back door and wander down to the beach.
They're all good spots, but I'm drawn to one place.
The place I sat that night.
The night that seemed to set everything in motion.
The night I believed in true love and fate.
The night I wished for my perfect boy.
A lot has happened since then and I know I'm not the same girl. But, as I look up at the moon, I know that I got my wish.
B plops down next to me and hands me a beer.
We clink our bottles together and he says, “To being home.” He looks out at the ocean for a moment and when he turns back to face me, his eyes are shimmering. He clinks my bottle again and says, “And to you. Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome,” I say with a smile.
He shakes his head. “I still can't believe you picked up a live bomb and threw it in the ocean. Do you have any idea what it weighed?”
“It wasn’t that heavy; like, five pounds, maybe.”
“More like twenty.”
“Hmm. Must have been the adrenaline.”
“You didn't just save me, you know. They say that had the blast happened in the house, it would have taken out at least three homes—possibly more from the fires. Have you seen the crazy throng of reporters outside the gates? My dad says we should be out there talking about all of it. That you can't buy publicity like this.”
“And how do you feel about it? Do you want to be interviewed?”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t.”
“Other than the story I owed those reporters, I don’t want to talk about it either, B.”
“Were you serious about sponsoring me?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I have this production company. We’re looking to sponsor a hot young surfer. Although, I seriously have to come up with a new name for it.”
“What's it called now?”
“A Breath Behind You Films. The acronym of which is Abby.”
“Pretty creepy.”
“Exactly. I think the new name should remind us of this. Of all we went through. Of how we’ve both changed. I don't ever want to lose sight of what's important in life again.”
B reaches in his pocket and pulls out a joint. “Haven't had one of these in a while; what do you think?”
“I think I love you.”
“I love you too.” He lights up, takes a few puffs, and passes it to me.
“Ahhh,” I say, relaxing completely.
We don't say anything.
Just smoke in a comfortable silence.
“Captive Films,” he finally says.
“Captive?”
“Yeah. Vincent held our lives captive.”
“And we wanna hold our audiences captive.”
He grins. “Exactly.”
“That's perfect. You cool with having that name on your surfboard?”
“I’d be honored.” He laughs. “You know, tonight reminds me of that night. Your prom night. A lot has happened since then.”
“I’m so sorry for everything, B.”
He shushes me. “Stop feeling guilty. Vincent screwed up our lives, not you.”
“I know. But you managed to get through it and become an amazing professional surfer.”
He shakes his head. “It's hard to believe, isn't it? I can't wait to share it with you. Will you come to my next tournament?”
“I wouldn't miss it.”
He looks at me wistfully. “You always look so pretty in the moonlight.” He reaches out and touches my face. “Want to hear something silly?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning my cheek into his hand. His touch feels like it always has. Gentle and sweet.
“Remember your prom night?”