I want to scream at her to tell me she loves me. That there’s nothing holding her back anymore.
But I can’t, because I stupidly promised to give her time.
I can’t give her any more time. I have to know now.
She stands in front of me, taking my breath away.
“You seem stressed,” she says.
“That’s because I’m ready to fucking explode!” I yell at her. Shit. I didn’t mean to yell. “I’m sorry. I just need you to tell me. Are you still in love with him? Do you just want him? Or me? Will you date us both? How’s this going to work? Did you sleep with him? Wait. No, don’t tell me.”
She was looking into my eyes, but now she looks down and kicks at the sand nervously.
“Aiden, there's something I need to tell you. Do you remember what Logan told Maggie? About how it doesn’t matter where you’ve been, but only where you end up? Brooklyn told me that. I didn’t get it back then. But I do now. This whole mess. Almost being kidnapped. Going to Eastbrooke. Making new friends. Meeting you. Fighting for my family. It was all part of shaping me into who I’ve become. It’s so weird. I’m back here on my beach. I’m home. Exactly where I wanted to be. But I’m not the same girl.”
She gives me a wide, dazzling smile. The same smile she gave me the first time I saw her. Cocky. Confident. That ha-ha-I-totally-just-scored-on-you-wearing-cowboy-boots smile.
“Not everything has changed, though,” she continues. “I still believe in fairy tales.”
It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes, because if she tells me Brooklyn is her prince, I’m seriously going to puke.
She takes my hand and leads me closer to the ocean.
Her hand is shaking and I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement.
“I should've told you this in St. Croix,” she says, “but I didn’t because I thought I might never see you again. And I wanted you to be able to move on without me.”
Is she trying to tell me that I should move on? That she’s home with Brooklyn where she belongs?
Doesn’t she know that I’d never get over her?
I look deep into her eyes, hoping mine convey the love I feel for her.
She takes a deep breath, turns away from me, and looks up at the moon.
I don’t want to hear it yet.
I can’t hear it yet.
“Dance with me,” I say. “Before you tell me. Please?”
I know I sound desperate, but maybe if we dance it will remind her of all those nights we danced under the twinkle lights in my room.
And the night under the gazebo when a simple dance turned into something so incredibly hot.
And then afterwards.
The way our bodies fit together perfectly.
I’d never felt more perfect in my life.
I cling to her, taking in everything.
The way her hands are laced together behind my neck.
The smell of her hair.
How her chest feels when it’s pressed against mine.
How we’re so close that I can feel her heartbeat.
Feel her chest rise with each breath she takes.
How there’s no music, but we’re somehow swaying to the same song.
When she lays her head on my shoulder, I feel cool tears trickle down my neck.
I want to push her away from me and ask her why she’s crying.
But I don’t want to know the answer.
I’m so afraid of the answer.
Maybe we can just stay here forever, dancing.
But then her lips graze my neck.
She kissed me.
Hope floods through me.
Please, let her say she loves me.
She pulls out of my arms—well, arm, since I have this stupid sling— ending our dance, and says, “Remember how I told you about my prom night? How it didn’t go according to my script and I sat on the beach afterward?” She points down. “This is where I was sitting.”
“And Brooklyn was sitting here with you?” I snap.
I don’t mean to snap at her, but, fuck. Why the hell is she dragging this out?
She turns around, looking surprised by my question. “Well, later he came out to talk to me. That was the night when he and I sorta got started. But, I meant before that. When I was sitting here alone. It was about two in the morning. I was sad and, it sounds crazy, but I was sort of talking to the moon. Telling it what I wanted. What I didn’t tell you in St. Croix, Aiden, is that I made a wish on the moon, too.”
“What did you wish for?”
“My perfect boy. And I thought he was staring at the moon at that very moment, wishing for me, too. I swear, I could almost feel you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we wished on the moon at the same time. If you had told me about your wish the night we first danced, I would’ve let myself fall in love with you right then because I so desperately wanted it. I would’ve loved you even if we weren’t right for each other. When I made my wish, I didn’t really understand what love was. What it should be. What it could be. I just knew I wanted it. It was like the green flash. I didn’t know I hadn’t felt it until I experienced the real thing.”
There are tears shimmering in her eyes.
Mine too. Because I swear that night I felt her too.