“Why do you keep checking the phone every five seconds? Are you waiting for a call?” Eden asked as she unwrapped her sandwich.

Somehow, ever since the beach, we’d found ourselves a good routine. It’d only been a week, but we managed to find a comfortable balance between work and friendly conversation. The door between our offices always remained open, and every day at noon—providing we weren’t in the middle of a conference call or meeting—we ate lunch together at my desk.

“Gabi finally made an appointment with her psychiatrist and it was this morning. She was supposed to call me afterward, but I haven’t heard from her. I’m starting to get a little worried.”

“What are you worried about?” Her concern was real, and it comforted me to know she cared enough to talk about it. It was new to me, since I wasn’t used to having anyone I could talk openly about Gabi to, but I was adjusting.

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been herself in a really long time. So I don’t know what kind of mood she’ll be in after leaving the appointment.”

The phone on my desk came to life and I instantly picked up the receiver, grappling with it until I finally settled it against my ear.

“Kauffmann.” I tried to sound confident, but felt ready to lose it at any moment.

“Well, hello there, Dane.”

The weight nearly crushed me when I recognized the female voice on the other end of the phone. I blew out a long exhale into the receiver in place of a greeting.

“Don’t sound so excited to hear from me,” she said with a giggle.

Janette. She was my publicist, and a damn good one at that. She had a husband and two boys who she kept in line, and she did the same things here at the office. Truly, she was a godsend. I always enjoyed hearing from her, but not when expecting a call from Gabi regarding therapy. It was just bad timing.

I rolled my eyes and loosened up a bit. “What’d I do now?”

“What makes you think you did anything? Guilty conscience?”

“That depends… Did you find out about me moonlighting as a high-priced male escort?” I’d forgotten about Eden’s presence until she laughed under her breath, catching my attention. I couldn’t help but smile at her. And just like that, all worry had vanished and I found myself living in the moment, lost in her green eyes.

“High priced? Please, Dane. You wouldn’t make a buck.”

Roaring laughter ripped from my chest until I was reclined in my black leather chair. “You’re just jealous. My going rate is five figures, easy.”

“Not on the corner I see you on at night.”

“Janette…I’d ask why you’re driving past corners with hookers, but I’m gonna leave that one alone.” I continued to laugh but stopped the second I saw the humor drain from Eden’s face.

“Whatever. I actually called for a reason, and it has nothing to do with you paying for sex. I returned from my two-week vacation to find out you’ve hired a new assistant. And to make matters worse, you stole her from me. She was supposed to be my new receptionist.” Her tone was filled with humor, so I knew she wasn’t legitimately angry.

“We both know she’s overqualified to be your receptionist. Consider it a win-win because you still get to work with her, and now it will be on a more collegial level.” Eden took another bite of her sandwich and wouldn’t meet my gaze. “We’ll schedule something soon so you two can meet. I’d like to brainstorm some ideas I’ve been thinking about.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”

I hung up and let out a sigh. I’d convinced myself it would be Gabi calling and almost had a heart attack. Living under this kind of stress wasn’t healthy.

“That was Janette, my publicist. She’s fantastic. You should set up a meeting in the next week or so to go over a few things.”

“Oh,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “That’s why the comment was made about still working with me.”

I nodded and continued eating my lunch.

“Tell me about how you and Gabi met.”

“Why?” I stopped mid-chew, both surprised and perplexed by her question.

She smiled and waited until she swallowed her bite before answering. “Sometimes when I’m worried about something, thinking about a more cheerful time gets me through. Maybe I’m way off base, but I assumed thinking of her when you first met might make you feel better about what’s going on.”

I couldn’t believe I was about to give in, but I did. “It was in tenth grade. Her mom had recently gotten married and they’d moved to town. She was the new girl, starting school mid-year, which every kid dreads. But it also made it hard to miss her. She was quiet and mostly kept to herself, so had it been the beginning of the year when there were tons of new kids, I might have missed our chance meeting.

“We had math together and she sat right in front of me. It was always one of my better subjects, but she was struggling, so I finally offered her my notes. And eventually, I started helping her after school a couple times a week. We’d meet in the library and work on our homework together. She didn’t talk much and I chalked it up to her being new. Her introverted attitude made conversation difficult and all we ever discussed was math. But I got to spend time with her so I didn’t care if we talked about math or the weather.”

“So you tutored her in order to spend time with her? That’s cute.”

I thought it’d be weird discussing Gabi with Eden, but her smile made me chuckle, and I was quickly reminded of how easy it was to talk to her about anything.

“Finally, just before the school year ended, I asked Gabi out to the movies. She said no.” I grinned, remembering it as if it were yesterday. “I kept at it, though. I asked her out every day until the last day of school. I didn’t know where she lived, and she wouldn’t give me her phone number, so I waited the entire summer until the first day of junior year and persistently started again. She readily agreed on that very first day of school. We went to dinner that Friday, and the rest is history.”

“That’s a really great story, Dane,” she said, the corners of her mouth curving up. “But now you have me intrigued. The rest is not history. Tell me more.”

“I was so used to her not saying much, that when I finally got her phone number and called, I was surprised by how much she opened up. We stayed up talking from eight that night until two in the morning. And then the next night, we spent five more hours on the phone. I don’t know what the hell we had to talk about for that long, but we managed to think of something interesting, I guess. There wasn’t one awkward moment of silence the entire time.” Those memories brought a smile to my face.

Eden finished her sandwich before asking another question. Leaning back in the chair, she tightened her features and took on an inquisitive stare. “So she started getting depressed after the baby? Things were good until then?”

The phone rang, and it couldn’t have happened at a more perfect moment. It disrupted the trip down memory lane at a point I needed to stop reminiscing.

My eyes met Eden’s and hers went wide. She glanced between me and the ringing phone on my desk, silently telling me to answer it. I wasn’t sure why I hesitated. I had been waiting for it to ring all morning, and when it finally did, I froze—paralyzed by what I’d hear on the other end of the receiver.

I picked up the phone and let out a sigh of relief when I heard Gabi’s voice on the other end. Eden smiled at me and got up to return to her office, leaving me alone with my phone call.

“What did he say?” I asked impatiently.

“I told him I didn’t want to be on medicine. I hate those pills, Dane.”

“I know you do. What did he say?”

“He said we can try a few weeks of counseling and see how that goes, but if I’m not improving then he thinks I should try a different medication. What if I get like last time? I can’t go through that again,” she cried.

“We’ll just have to try really hard to get through this together, okay? You have me, Gabs. I won’t let anything happen to you. I swore once that I would keep you safe from ever getting hurt again, and I’ve kept that promise to the best of my ability, have I not?”

“Yeah, you have. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I love you. You know that, right? I know I haven’t been very good to you lately—I certainly haven’t shown you how much you mean to me, and I hate that. You deserve better.”

I loathed the despair in her voice. It fucking killed me. I was heartbroken that she thought more about my happiness than her own. There I was, openly discussing my relationship with Gabi to Eden, while Gabi was at home, feeling like shit because she wasn’t able to be what I needed.

“Gabs, I know you love me. And we’ll get through this. Just you and me, like always.”

Gabi was quiet throughout dinner. I tried talking to her about the appointment, but all she gave me were general answers. I hated to push her, but I knew if I didn’t, she would slip further and further away. It’d happened once before. Although, what had caused that downward spiral would have made anyone slip so far down the cracks they never would’ve come back. But Gabi had. I’d pushed her so hard I ended up pulling her, right back into the living. It’s what gave me hope that there was light at the end of this tunnel, too.

“How about we go for a walk on the beach?” I asked her as we cleaned the kitchen together. At least that was an improvement. She normally retreated to the room with her e-reader and left it all for me. Much like the laundry and the cooking.

“No, I think I’m going to take a bath and finish this book I started yesterday.”

“Okay, then I’ll stay here.” I didn’t want to leave her all alone. I knew her visit with Dr. Greiner took a lot out of her, and my worry over her won out.

“Don’t. You love your walks. I swear, I’m fine. I’m just drained from today and need to unwind. Please, don’t let me keep you from your evening. I’ll even wait up for you,” she said with a short peck to my lips.

I wanted to argue, to show her some support by staying by her side, but she was right. My walks on the beach were cathartic and helped me clear my head—I needed them for my own mental wellbeing.

On my way out to the pier, I thought about how much I missed the days when Gabi would kiss me—like really kiss me. It had been so long since she last shoved her tongue down my throat like she really had to have it. It had been even longer since she said something dirty to me. And it made me wonder if that’s what happens in relationships when you’ve been with someone for so long. I guess after more than eleven years of dating—over nine years living together—I should’ve expected that to die out. The possibility of complacency never crossed my mind, but it could simply be the natural evolution of long-term relationships. Maybe she wasn’t as depressed as I believed her to be. Maybe I was too focused on the old version of Gabi and didn’t take into account that no matter how much therapy she participated in, she’d never again be the version of the girl I’d fallen in love with. I didn’t think I had changed that much since we first got together, but clearly I had. It was only rational for both of us to change.

The pier was empty when I walked up to it. But that didn’t surprise me. I hadn’t run into Eden there since that first night when we’d jumped into the water. Being here again without her left me thinking about a lot of things. The white noise of the waves on the shore took me to a place I’m not sure I was mentally ready to go.

I wondered if meeting Eden was fate—destiny. My relationship with Gabi was in the worst state of disarray—worse than it had ever been before. I couldn’t stop questioning how much worse it’d get before we would start to see hope on the horizon—if it ever would get better. I was miserable. I couldn’t deny that. Although, now that Gabi had agreed to seek help, I had hope for seeing some positive change, but the last thing I wanted to do was hang my hat on the possibility of a bright future. And for the last two weeks, Eden had been my saving grace. She’d been the light in the dark maze I’d been lost in. That realization only left me more perplexed.

Part of me questioned why I was still with Gabi. It sickened me when I allowed my thoughts to drift that way, but I couldn’t help it. Some days I felt as though I hung in there out of pure obligation, because of a promise, a commitment I’d made to her when we were teenagers. But I knew that wasn’t entirely true. I did love her. Even in her darkest days, I loved her. Although sometimes, I wondered if love was enough. There had to have been some subconscious reason I hadn’t married her yet, even though we’d been engaged for almost a year. But for the life of me I couldn’t reconcile any of it in my mind.

“Well, look who’s here.”

That melodic tone could only belong to one person—Eden. I instantly had a smile on my face before I even turned around, but the smile quickly fell once I saw her. She was dressed in a really tight skirt, which didn’t even look much like a skirt. It looked more like a tiny piece of fabric, barely enough to cover her ass. Her tank top was loose and hung on her, but her tits were heavy and noticeable. I struggled to not stare. When I finally made my way up to her eyes, I noticed she wore her makeup like she had that night we’d first met at the bar. And her hair was in those big curls I loved so much.

She looked hot, and I felt like a dick for noticing.

“You haven’t been here in a week,” she said as she walked closer to me before lifting herself onto the railing, causing her skirt to ride up higher on her thighs.

“I’ve been here.” My voice came out like a kid going through puberty. We each laughed awkwardly at the crack in my tone. And then we both audibly sighed.

“Well, I haven’t seen you.”

“Maybe we just keep missing one another. I take walks on the beach nearly every night, and I always end up here before going home. It’s like my safe place.”

“It is beautiful.” She stared into my eyes as she said the words, and my heart skipped a beat. A light breeze drifted past us, catching her perfume and wafting it over me. I leaned into it, needing to smell it again. It wasn’t until her breath hit my face that I realized how close I’d gotten.

Even her scent affected me.

“I shouldn’t be here.” I took a step away from her.

“No, you shouldn’t,” she said almost breathlessly.

“I should go home.”

“Yes, you should.” The words escaping her mouth were mostly filled with air and heavy breathing. Her internal struggle was as obvious as my own. The tension we both felt mirrored the other.

“No.” I shook my head. “I was here first. You should leave. You should be the one to go home.” I laughed, playing it off as a joke, even though it wasn’t. Work was a safe place for us to be near each other and talk, but here…it was dangerous. Painfully aware of our mutual attraction, and the admitted struggle to both fight against it, it was wrong for us to meet up like this on the beach.

“You’re right, I should go,” she said but didn’t move from her perch on the railing next to me. I’d put space between us, but it wasn’t enough. She was still within arm’s reach, and that was risky.

“Yes, you should.”

“Maybe I’ll come earlier next time, so you can’t make me leave,” she retorted with a coy smile.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll let you use my pier until I show up. Then you’ll have to go home so I can enjoy it. That’s how it’ll work from here on out.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Mr. Kauffmann.”

“I’m a thoughtful guy, Miss Clare.”

“If you were, you’d share it with me.”

“I am. I’m allowing you to be here when I’m not.”

“Are you afraid to be here with me?” The smile remained on her face, but her tone had taken on the slightest hint of uneasiness—mocking me.

“Hell yeah, I’m scared. You admitted to me last weekend you have to fight off your attraction to me. I can’t risk you trying to jump me. I’m a good-looking guy, and you’re very athletic. I feel like I need pepper spray when I’m in your presence.”

Her nervous laughter echoed in the silence, but she glanced down at her swinging legs.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” She met my stare again.

“Being shy.”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“You have nothing to be shy about.”

“It’s simply who I am, Dane. Always been like that, and always will be.”

“Well, then maybe that’s why we met. Maybe the purpose of you being in the same bar I was that night, and me owning the only company you want to work for, is to enable me to bring you out of your shell. Maybe it’s so I can un-shy you.”

She laughed and playfully swatted my shoulder. “Oh, yeah? So what’s my purpose for you? What’s the big reason the universe brought me into your life?”

To make me happy. To make me smile. To make me feel something other than down. To bring me light when the rest of my world is so dark, and to make me feel exactly how I do in this moment.

Of course, I didn’t say any of that.

“To make my job easier at work.”

“Good answer.”

I settled against the wooden railing again, leaning into it with my elbows, and watched the moonlight dance on the horizon. “Where did you go tonight?”

She shrugged and turned her attention away from me, staring off down the empty shoreline. It took her a moment, but when I didn’t say anything else, she finally answered me. “A date.”

“Oh, another one of your Internet dates?”

“Yeah. But it didn’t go well. There definitely won’t be a second one.” She sighed, her shoulders slouching, and she turned to find me staring at her. “He was an asshole who apparently thought I was easy. When he realized I wouldn’t sleep with him, he called me a tease and said I should dress like the prude that I am.”

I hated how giddy that confession made me. It shouldn’t have, but it did. I felt like a kid in a candy store. Not that this guy was an asshole, but that she didn’t give in and wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“What’s his name? I wanna kick his ass.”

“Don’t.” She waved me off with a gentle smile. “He’s not worth it. Trust me. He had a line on his ring finger, too. I’m assuming he’s a cheating bastard with a Mrs. waiting for him at home.”

My insides grew cold at her words. I knew I hadn’t cheated on Gabi—or anyone else—but it didn’t stop the guilt from weighing me down. It didn’t matter that my lips had never touched hers, or that I kept my hands—and indecent thoughts—to myself. On more than one occasion, I found myself thinking of her, and there were plenty of times I sought her out, craving her company. That was enough to make me feel like a cheating bastard.

“So, how did the appointment go? How was she when you got home?” she asked, effectively changing the subject and dousing more cold water on my already tepid thoughts. I guess she could sense my inner turmoil.

I stared into her eyes and saw her—really saw her, as though I had an open window into her soul. And, God, the view through that frame was stunning. Staring back at me was the most caring person I’d ever been associated with. Someone who genuinely cared to know about me, to talk to me.

And that’s when it hit me.

The revelation was monumental.

Eden had been the only person in months—months—to ask me about me. To ask about my day. To ask about important things in my life that truly mattered. No one else had bothered to find out what was going on with me.

“Tell me something about you.” I stood up straighter, giving her my undivided attention.

“I take it things didn’t go well?”

“There’s not much to talk about, so I don’t really have much to say. I kind of don’t want to get my hopes up. But I don’t want to talk about me, Eden. I’ve done enough of that by telling you all kinds of things I’ve never shared with anyone else. Now it’s time to learn something about you. Tell me something you don’t talk about with other people.”

Her head shook from side to side and her curls bounced on her bare shoulders. I could no longer look at her tattoo without thinking of the rest that connected to it. The image was ingrained in my head.

“I dated a guy all throughout college. I loved him. I thought we’d get married. But he broke up with me right before school ended. He kept the apartment and all the furniture since it was all his when we moved in together. He took all our friends, because I gave most of mine up when we’d first started dating. I was left with absolutely nothing for the last two weeks of school before I moved here. I came with my clothes and a sleeper sofa I bought at a garage sale on my way down. My parents don’t know any of that.” She’d unloaded an enormous amount of personal, intimate information as though she was describing the shade of green on the grass. She had to have been profoundly affected by the situation, but she delivered the story as though it was unimportant.

“Why did he break up with you?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask without so much as trying to console her wounded heart, but the question pressed past my lips before I could stop it.

“He couldn’t keep it in his pants. The worst part was it wasn’t just cheating—he had a full-blown affair. I don’t even know how long it went on before he chose her over me. I wish I could say I caught him in the act and chewed his ass out. Or that I at least had the privilege of leaving him instead of the other way around, but I didn’t even get that satisfaction. I was literally left with nothing. He kicked me out and the bitch immediately moved in.”

I didn’t know what to say. I never would have guessed she literally moved here with nothing after that kind of turmoil. She seemed so strong, so sure of herself, I never would have imagined she’d been literally stripped down to nothing.

“Wow. Did he have a reason?”

“Does it matter?”

“What if he wasn’t happy? Not saying you made him miserable, because I’m sure you didn’t. But what if, for some reason, he wasn’t?”

“Then he should’ve left me before he started seeing her. She knew about me. And you know what? I feel sorry for her. I pity her, because she was with a cheater, while knowing he was a cheater. And from now on, whenever he goes out without her, or comes home late from work, or uses his credit card at a department store, it will cross her mind that he’s doing the same to her. If he could cheat on me, then he can cheat on her.”

My mind swam with drowning thoughts. She was right—if he wasn’t happy, he should’ve left. I got that. But I also understood being bound by constraints that prevent someone from leaving simply because they’re dissatisfied. Sometimes, they stay to protect the other person—to make sure they’re safe. Giving up is easy, but it’s the hardest thing in the world when you’re fearful for the other person’s wellbeing, their mental health, their sanity. However, one thing did become painfully clear to me in that moment. I now questioned my reason for staying with Gabi if I was so miserable and had been for quite some time.

I stayed because I couldn’t risk her hurting herself.

I sacrificed my happiness for her life.

It wasn’t fair to me, but it was the path I chose.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Eden? Is this your subtle way of suggesting I leave Gabi if I’m so miserable?”

“No…not at all. I don’t presume to know anything about your relationship, other than what you’ve shared with me. And even knowing what little you’ve offered, I have no right to judge or form opinions. You were the one who asked me to tell you something about myself…so I did.”

When she cast her gaze toward the ground again, I moved to stand in front of her, putting my finger beneath her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze.

“Stop. Please stop hiding. It’s just me.”

A small smile appeared on her lips. She reached out and touched my cheek, letting her fingertips linger on my skin until it burned with the heat of an inferno.

I looked right into her eyes, which were hard to see with the sun gone, but that didn’t stop them from shining back at me. I wished I knew what she was thinking. What went through her head. I wanted to know all her thoughts, no matter the importance of them.

My forehead dropped to hers—it was unintentional and happened naturally. But she didn’t push me away. Instead, she ran her fingers lightly over my beard and closed her eyes.

Our breathing turned erratic and blended together in the small gap separating our mouths. Her panting breaths licked my lips, and it drove me crazy. I found myself in a war between right and wrong. But before I could do or say anything, she whispered the same words that burned the tip of my tongue, “You should go.”

It was a douse of cold water on our hot moment, but it was desperately needed. Neither of us willing to make a move, but it was too hard to push away. I knew she felt it, too. I could tell by the way her chest heaved, and the way her hand lingered on my face. She made the right call.

I stepped away, letting my hand fall from her chin as hers fell from my cheek, but I didn’t avert my eyes from hers. She didn’t turn away, either. It wasn’t all in my head—the chemistry between us wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It was there. It was almost tangible. The real question was whether it was right. If it was only physical or something else. The fact it was likely something else scared me the most. I wasn’t ready for that. Didn’t know if I ever would be ready to put something ahead of Gabi and her wellbeing.

“Goodnight, Eden. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. I turned around and started the lonely walk home. I should have spent that time getting my head straight, clearing my thoughts, and focusing on what was most important. But I didn’t. I strolled along, thinking about Eden and how different my life would be with her. No matter how promising that thought was, it could never happen. Someone else depended on me, and I couldn’t shirk that responsibility, that commitment.

Gabi was curled up in bed with her e-reader and didn’t even acknowledge me as I walked into the room. The light from the screen illuminated her face with an almost ethereal glow. She was beautiful, but very different from Eden. Where Eden’s eyes were shaped like almonds and the color of a forest tree, Gabi’s were large and dark. Eden had creamy colored skin, not quite pale but certainly not tan. It looked like she could probably tan if she really tried. But Gabi was light brown all over, as if she spent hours in the sun instead of inside reading. Their hair was completely different, too. Both were long, but Gabi’s hung limply against her body. She used to put forth effort to make it look good, style it every day. She didn’t do that much anymore. If she did anything to it, she only put it up in a ponytail. It made me think about how I used to play with it across my chest as she laid on me.

We didn’t do that anymore, either.

I finally stopped staring at her. It was pointless. She didn’t notice me there, too engrossed in her book to pay any attention to me. Comparing the old version of Gabi to that of Eden wasn’t beneficial to anyone, but most importantly, it simply wasn’t fair.

After my shower, I climbed under the covers, moving closer to her. I tried kissing her shoulder, hoping to gain her attention. It didn’t. “How’s your book?” I asked as I ran my fingertips down her small arm to her hand. That didn’t make her look my way, either. I finally gave up, knowing she was lost in the book, and the story was more important than me. They all were. Once she’d finish one, she’d be on to another. I hated those damn books. She used them as a way to escape reality.

And in the process, me.

I rolled over and gave her the space she clearly wanted. “Good talk,” I mumbled to myself.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathe, I thought for the first time about leaving her. I knew I couldn’t simply walk away after everything we’d been through—after everything she’d been through—but there was a part of me that desperately wanted to. However, that would make me an asshole. I had to think about Gabi and what would happen to her. What she’d do to herself if I left.

After my very brief contemplation of putting myself first, I made up my mind. I couldn’t leave. She was making an attempt to heal. For her. For me. For us. I couldn’t be selfish and give up merely because things weren’t perfect. We’d been through hard times before, and we made it out on the other side. I had to have faith we’d get there again. I had to believe in her. If I didn’t, no one else would.

She’d always been my priority.

I just wished someone would make me one, too.