But I don’t stay pissed. Panic takes the lead and runs rampant after endless minutes of fruitlessly combing the resort and coming up empty. Muscles aching, heart racing, her pained cries echoing throughout my mind, I start my search along the beach, seeing no signs of her. Fear snatches me in a chokehold as I stop briefly, panting heavily, gut churning. In an attempt to calm myself, I brace my hands on my thighs.
Fuck, Beauty, where are you?
Sweat dripping from every inch of my body, I spot a dune a short distance away and stalk toward it. It’s when I reach the top of it that her voice carries to me on the wind. Relieved, I let the anger seep back in as I lose my footing on the other side of the dune, all but tumbling down, before barely managing to catch myself in time to land on my feet. Feeling crazed and possessed, emotions in overdrive, I slap at the sand covering me in irritation as I stalk toward her where she sits, her back to me, phone lifted to her ear.
“No, I’m not,” she sniffs. “And I haven’t been okay for a long time.” Hunched over in my jacket, her wedding dress, I bat the sentimental thought away, ready to lay into her but am stopped dead in my tracks when she speaks again.
“I’m glad, Daddy, because I want to tell you about the man I fell in love with in Seattle.”
Her tearful admission grips my seizing heart like a vise as I’m frozen where I stand, waiting on bated breath for Nate’s reply. During those short seconds, I toss up a prayer, if only for her sake, for him to finally hear her out. It’s when she begins her tearful confession that I stop breathing altogether.
“He’s perceptive. He can read people easily and usually judge people’s character within minutes. He speaks the way he lives—with intent, and it’s fascinating to me because I’ve never met anyone so brave. He’s brilliant, magnetic, and…magical, and I’m drawn to him more than I have ever been to any other soul in my life. He listens to my passion like it’s his favorite pastime and treats me like I’m the most precious thing on earth—with the utmost respect and care. He’s fiercely protective and has a temper. Still, it’s mostly directed towards those who endanger the ones he loves, who purposefully play ignorant, or treat others unfairly, but would never, ever hurt me.”
She runs my jacket sleeve along her face as my heart stalls out altogether.
“Like me, he’s close to his parents and mildly superstitious because of his mother. He habitually practices a few of her quirks, though he’ll be hard-pressed to admit it. He idolizes his father, too,” her voice cracks painfully with that admission, as does my chest. “He’s insanely talented and can memorize songs in mere minutes, the notes, the lyrics, all of it, though he’ll never call himself a prodigy or a genius, he’s too humble… He’s famous and hates it, but only because he’s an empath to his core and doesn’t want to be idolized or held responsible for other people’s life choices.” She cups her mouth briefly to stifle her cries before continuing. “He’s my supernova, the only star in my sky, and oh…how he shines. Every time I look at him, my insides light fire, and I am every bit a moth to his flame. But I don’t care if I burn because…because I would rather burn with him in any capacity, than exist safely anywhere else without him.”
Raking my hand through my hair, I stand back helplessly, unraveling with every word she speaks.
Damn this woman.
“I’m in love with Easton Crowne, Daddy, and I’m never going to fall out of love with him, and I t-think…” she hangs her head, her cries carrying over to me and breaking me down completely, piece by piece as does her next declaration. “I think it’s way too late. I think…I think I’ve lost him for good, but I’m going to try like hell to get him back, and if I do…I’m going to put him first.”
Every ounce of my anger dissipates as my frustration also threatens to shake free. Gutted by her admissions, by what I still feel for her, emotions strangle me as the words I thought I would never hear in my lifetime continue to pour from her lips.
“I just wanted to tell you why I have to break your heart again, Daddy. Despite it being the worst twist of fate imaginable, Easton is the man who fills my heart and soul, and with me, he comes first.”
I send up another quick prayer as brief silence lingers before she speaks again. “I l-l-love you, t-too, thank y-you, Daddy. I’m g-getting t-too upset to talk. I need to go now, okay? I’ll c-call you when I’ve c-calmed down.”
A pause, a sniff, another muffled cry into the sleeve of my jacket. “O-kay. B-bye, Daddy.” She ends the call, bends her head, and sobs into her hands.
Destroyed by the sight of it and unable to handle another second, I move to go to her just as she snaps her shoulders back, stands, dusts herself off, and turns. Eyes lowered, she begins charging toward the resort, toward me with determination.
I’ve never in my life loved the sight of anything more.
A few steps in, she pauses as if sensing me, lifts her head, eyes widening when she sees me standing there. Posture faltering, she croaks my name in defeat before again dropping her face in her palms.
I Don’t Want to Talk About It
Rod Stewart
Natalie
“This feels familiar,” Easton’s coarse voice cuts through the whirring breeze filling my ears as I allow myself a few more seconds of reprieve in my hands. I look over at him where he stands, soaked by the light of the moon, head tilted back, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
I notice he’s covered in sweat, and there’s sand coating his right side, his jeans and boots dusted with it, chest heaving, as though he’s just run a marathon.
“What’s going on. What happened?”
“What happened?” He croaks incredulously. “You can’t be serious.” He stares back at me, bewildered. “Jesus, I thought I was supposed to be the showstopper,” he relays in a gruff whisper, “but you definitely upstaged me tonight.”
“Easton,” I swallow, “I’m—”
“You’re right. You’re still you, and I’m still me,” he continues, tears spilling over and gliding down his cheeks. “And you’re still a nightmare…but you should know…” his voice shakes, “you’ve become a master at arguing your point.”
“Is Misty…”
“Oh, you drilled your point into her very well and sent her packing, literally.”
“I’m sorry for what I did, for the way I did it—hurting her. But I’m,” I lift my chin, “but I’m not at all sorry for what I said.”
“Oh, I believe you, Beauty,” his shoulders slump as he steps forward. “Now tell me what you were going to say when you found me.”
Itching to go to him where he stands feet away, rattling with emotion and residual hurt, unchecked tears gliding down his face, I drop my hands to my sides.
“We broke a lot of promises being young, reckless, and na?ve—but I think I figured out where we went wrong—at least, where I went wrong.” Taking a steadying breath, I keep swinging. “Love is patient, Easton—it has to be, and we both needed it. Love is kind. We had that in abundance and lost it along the way. We both needed to remember that, we…I,” I run the sleeve of his jacket over my face. “Those promises we made, they mattered, but it was the vows that would have kept us together—the vows I wish I would have paid more attention to. You were always protective, but I wasn’t the only one that needed protecting, and I didn’t do my part, and for that, I’ll forever be sorry.”