When we get back to my mom’s, Micah throws on his board shorts and gets his things together before his friend, Brogan, stops by to pick him up. After they leave, I shoot Kason a quick text.
Me: Is it all right if I head over now?
Kason: Just got back from a run. About to hop in the shower, but I’ll be here.
I wait around to give him time to clean up and go downstairs to check in with my mom. She’s on her computer when I walk into her office.
“I just heard Micah leave. I figured you went with him,” she says without lifting her eyes from the monitor.
“He went to the beach to skim for a while with a friend of his.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?”
I take a few steps in and sit down on a chair. “I told Kason I would come by.”
Her eyes finally lift, and her fingers stop typing. “Is everything okay between the two of you?”
I shrug. “I think so. He texted me earlier and apologized.”
“You know he didn’t mean it.”
“I know, Mom.”
“I’m glad he’s letting you come over,” she says. “He’s hardly said a word since his mom passed away.”
I lean back in the chair and mindlessly scan the room, looking at all of my mother’s law books and awards displayed on her bookshelves. But then a framed photo catches my eyes and pulls me out of the chair and across the room. Sitting on the end table next to one of the small loveseats in the corner of the office is a picture of her and Kason at his college graduation. I pick it up and look down at the two of them. He wears his cap and gown and has a beaming smile on his face, which doesn’t even come close to the prideful one on my mother’s.
I look over my shoulder to find her watching me. “It’s weird, you know?”
“What is?”
“To realize there’s another side to your life I know nothing about.”
She then stands and walks over to me. “It’s how you wanted it, sweetheart.”
“I know. I just didn’t think . . .” My words fall short when unforeseen emotions settle at the base of my throat.
She takes the frame from my hands and sets it back on the side table, and when we take a seat on the sofa, she prompts me to continue. “You didn’t think what?”
“That you two would still be a part of each other’s lives. I mean, I figured you would for a while, but . . . I don’t know . . .” I take a second to figure out what I mean before I continue. “The more time that passed, the more I moved on and the less space he occupied inside my head. Eventually, I stopped thinking about him. He was no longer a part of my world, so subconsciously, I assumed he wasn’t a part of yours.” I look into my mother’s eyes. “I never thought you two would get so close.”
“I never thought we would, either, but we did. It’s been difficult to keep it from you, because he’s become an extension of this family.” She takes my hand in hers. “It’s always been hard on him, you know? The fact that I have to exclude him at times to protect you and your wishes.”
A span of silence grows between us, and I look once more at the photo before murmuring, “This is all so awkward—to know someone so well, but at the same time, not know them at all.”
“Maybe you going over there will help bridge that gap to make it less uncomfortable for you.”
“Maybe.”
“How is Micah handling all of this?”
“He seems absolutely fine,” I tell her. “I mean, I feel weird about it, but he doesn’t, so maybe I shouldn’t, either.”
“It’s normal to feel weird in this situation. And you’re lucky that Micah is so supportive. Not many guys would be as understanding as him.”
I look at my mom, and I’m so thankful for our relationship. “I’m going to miss you when I’m in California.”
“Oh no,” she warns. “Don’t you dare start that now. I’m nowhere near emotionally ready to deal with that just yet.”
I laugh at her dramatics, and she’s quick to dismiss herself from the conversation.
“I have to get back to this email.”
“I guess that’s my cue,” I say as I stand. “I’ll be back later.”
“All right. I hope the two of you have a good visit.”
I bring up the directions to Kason’s place, and it only takes a few minutes before I’m in the Channel District, pulling up to the apartment high-rise. It’s a far contrast to the apartment he used to live in with his mom, and I know my mother must be paying him above and beyond to afford to live in a place like this right next to the water.
The second I step off the elevator on the eleventh floor, my nerves kick in, and I wipe my sweaty palms on the back of my shorts. I don’t even know why I’m so anxious.
I knock, and when he opens the door, my heart drops when I see his face is marred in stress and sadness.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” I respond, but my voice comes out much too feeble.
I step inside and take a glance around the wide-open space that’s more of a loft than an apartment with its high, exposed ceiling that gives it an industrial look.
“Wow. This is really nice.”
I turn around, and he’s standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. It soothes me a bit to see he’s a little nervous, too.
“Your mom . . . she helped me get this place.”
I think back to his old apartment. Even though it was run-down and barely furnished, there was something about it that made me feel so comfortable. I used to love spending my time there, but this new place is so different, only spotlighting how much things have changed.
“You even have a water view,” I note as I walk over to the expansive windows that line the outer wall. I look down, and where my view back in Miami is filled with yachts, his is filled with porting cruise ships. Turning around, I watch him as he walks across the space and takes a seat on the couch. “I’m happy for you.” The moment the words come out of my mouth, I regret them, knowing he just lost his mom. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant.”
I step over and take a seat next to him. I’m tongue-tied behind my lips as I file through an array of conversation starters, but for some reason, I can’t speak. Kason takes the pressure away from me when he says, “So, when do you leave?”
“I have to get back home after the funeral. My flight leaves the next morning.”
His brows furrow, reminding me that he has no idea where home is for me. His lips twitch, and it takes him a few seconds to ask with so much strain in his voice, “Where was it you ran to?”
I can barely swallow when his words take me back to where I left him on the beach. A ripe, hot tear drips down my cheek while I fight to keep my composure.
“Tell me where you went.”
“Miami.”
His shoulders drop, and he slumps over, clasping his hands together, and I know he’s fitting the pieces together. Pieces I’m terrified to explain.
“I thought you went back to Texas,” he says and then lifts his head to me. “Why Miami?” Silently, we share a mutual understanding as of why, but he asks anyway to seek clarification, “Was it because Micah and Trent were there?”
I give him a slow nod.
His jaw flexes as he bites down hard. “I called them. I even went there.”
“I know,” I confess.
“You knew?”
“I was hiding in my bedroom.”
He presses his lips together as the muscles in his forearms constrict. “Do you have any clue what that did to me?”
And here we are again, skating around the true reason why all this happened in the first place. But I won’t mention it because it might be a topic he doesn’t want to touch.
“I needed a fresh start,” I tell him. “I didn’t know where to go, and then Trent and Micah offered me the spare room in their condo.”
“Is that where you’ve been living all these years?”
“Yeah.”
His breathing begins to stagger, and I can tell how badly he’s trying not to fall apart. “There’s so much empty space between then and now. It used to be so easy to talk to you, but now . . .”
“I’m sorry.”
“I fucking miss you,” he says, getting choked up, and I feel so guilty for all the choices I’ve made that have led us to this place. “I thought I was done feeling that way. But then you show up out of nowhere.” Unshed tears shine in his eyes, and I swear they cut straight through my heart when he reveals, “I thought I was over you.”
“Kason . . .”
His hand finds mine, and when he holds it, I suddenly realize I forgot to take my ring off. My body chills, and I freeze as I watch his thumb slide over the diamond. My head drops, and I think I hear the pounding of his heart as I avoid his eyes.
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath in complete shock as he holds my hand tighter.
After a second, I pull it from his grip and wipe my face as another tear spills over.
“Are you fucking married?”
With so much hesitance, my eyes meet his menacing, heartbroken ones. I catch my breath just enough to say, “Not yet . . . I’m engaged.”
“You met someone else?”
Everything inside me seizes when I see how much this just shattered him, and I can’t even speak.
He stands and paces away from me. All I can do is watch, wishing I had never come here. I’m only hurting him more and more all over again.
“God, I must’ve been stupid to think you’d come back to me when you were ready to love again.”
“Kason, please.”
He then turns, and with a vicious bite in his tone, he tells me, “I never unloved you.”
I stand and rush toward him. “I didn’t unlove you, either, Kason. It wasn’t like that.”
“You have a goddamn ring on your finger! How the fuck does that happen if you love me?”
“I don’t know,” I cry. “You just . . .”
“I just what?”
“You just . . . faded.”
“I didn’t fade, Adaline,” he lashes. “You pushed me away. You forced me out of your life!”
In desperation to console him, I reach out, only for him to take a step back, refusing my touch. Fury blazes from him, and it scorches me in unfathomable guilt.
“So who is it?” he then asks, his eyes growing sad through all his anger. “What’s the name of the man you felt was more worthy of your love?”
“I didn’t do this to hurt you.”
“Just tell me.”
Knowing how much I’m about to destroy him, I cower, dropping my head to my palms and crying loudly in utter fear.
“Say it, Adaline. What’s the name of the guy you gave your world to?” he presses, lifting his arms out as he says this.
Dropping my hands, I look at his face, which is swirled in muted colors through my tears. I have to tell him. I have no other choice, so I take in a broken breath and stab him straight through his heart. “It’s Micah.”
His face morphs into stone. Every curve, every line, every single feature goes rigid at my admission. His fists clench at his sides, and his chest rises and falls as he digests the fact that I’m marrying the guy who used to be his best friend.
“Let me get this straight.” His voice is so steady that it scares me. “You threw me away, vanished from my life, and fell in love with Micah?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“You let him . . .” His fists ball so tightly, the veins pop out in his arms, and then he loses it. “You let him fucking touch you!”
“Kason—”
“Get the fuck out!”
“Let me explain.”
“Explain what? That you gave him your heart, the heart that fucking belongs to me? Fuck you!”
I burst into uncontrollable tears, and every attempt I make to speak is buried beneath agonizing sobs as I reach for him, pleading for understanding, but he’s too far gone, yelling at me and throwing everything in my face.
All I want to do is explain that this isn’t about who I love more, but that I simply need a different kind of love than what I used to.
Everything happens so fast, and before I know it, he has me by the arm and is forcing me out, slamming the door in my face. My mind floods with maniacal guilt, wishing I could go back and change the past. And then I cry even harder because if I never would’ve walked away from Kason, I never would’ve found the love that saved me in Micah. So I crumble, hating that in this madness, I’m doubting myself. Because to doubt myself, is to doubt Micah and everything we share. And I can’t let myself do that. I love him.
And as scared as I am to admit it, there’s a piece of me, a piece I long ago buried deep within my heart, a piece I forgot was even there, that still loves Kason.