Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1) by Abigail Davies, Danielle Dickson (19)

“Jessica, that’s amazing. I had no idea you wanted to be a dancer when you grew up.” Of course I’m telling a little white lie, the eight-year-old girl hasn’t stopped pirouetting since she joined us three weeks ago.

She nods enthusiastically. “My mommy said I can be anything that I want to be.”

“Your mommy’s a very smart woman. She’s right, you can; you all can,” I reply, smiling.

I stand and inhale in a deep breath, looking around the room at the children talking animatedly about what they want to be when they grow up: astronauts, cowboys, doctors, dancers, artists, princesses.

At what point in life do we start to lose this belief that we can be anything we want to be or do anything we put our mind to? I guess it’s drilled into you when you start high school and you have to start being serious about picking subjects and colleges. You’re told to “be more realistic” or that you’ll never succeed at what you want to do because you don’t have the grades. But sometimes that doesn’t matter; if you have the utter determination to reach your full potential, you’ll get there with a little encouragement from the people around you.

I know what it feels like to be knocked down for doing something that you love or have always wanted to do. Gerry used to make me feel like my dreams meant a big fat nothing in the grand scheme of things, but so what if these kids don’t remember me in ten to fifteen years’ time? At least I will have had a positive influence on their lives now. He thought it was all just one tiny little blip in someone’s life, and it may be, but to me it’s everything.

I clap my hands to get their attention and they all turn toward me, their conversations pausing. “You’ve all done amazing today finishing off your dream boards and I’ve really enjoyed learning about what you all want to be when you become adults. You’re more than welcome to take them home if you’re finished with them. If you’re not, they need to go in the back room ready for next week. It’s cleanup time, first one to have a clean station gets to take home Willow Bear for the week.”

They all shoot up out of their seats, grabbing paintbrushes and paper as I giggle at their enthusiasm. Willow Bear was Mom’s idea, they do it in kindergarten and she thought it would work well here too. Each child gets to take the stuffed bear home for the week and they write in a “Bear Journal” about the adventures they go on and the fun they have. It doesn’t work with the older ones, but for this session where we have four- to eight-year-olds, they love it.

“Miss J?” a small voice says.

I kneel in front of Izzie who has a small smile on her face. “Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m all clean,” she says, holding up her hands. I look over to where she was using a mountain of glitter and sure enough, her place is spotless, but Clayton’s beside hers is still a mess.

I smile at the fact that he’s helped his sister. “Wow, you sure are. Willow Bear will be coming home with you then.”

Her face lights up and her pigtails swing as she bounces up and down. “Yay! I reaaally wanted him because my daddy is taking us to the beach tomorrow.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of her dad. After our impromptu lunch on Monday, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. Which is extremely frustrating because all I’ve tried to do over the last decade is put him to the back of my mind.

“That’s fantastic, Izzie. Willow Bear will love the beach, I don’t think he’s been there before.”

She seems to contemplate something before asking, “Have you been?”

“To the beach?” She nods. “Sure, lots of times. It’s one of my favorite places to visit.”

“It is?” she squeals, her eyes wide and excited.

I chuckle. “It sure is.”

The bell above the door rings out and I stand up, my eyes connecting with Tristan’s. I didn’t get to see him this morning, by the time I’d finished up a phone call in my office, he’d already dropped off Clayton and Izzie, and gone.

“Daddy!” Izzie cries, running toward him and pulling him by his hand toward me. “I get to bring Willow Bear home.”

He chuckles, the sound causing goose bumps to prickle along my skin. I see Mom out of the corner of my eye staring over at me with her arms crossed, watching our interaction.

“You do?” he asks, his eyes widening with excitement for her.

“Mmhmm, can he come to the beach with us, Daddy? Pleaasseee.”

“Of course he can,” he answers, his voice raising an octave.

I chuckle and start to walk away until I hear her say, “And Miss J?” making me halt in my tracks.

“Oh… Erm…” His eyes meet mine, his gaze unsure. “Not this time, pumpkin.” Izzie’s stomps her foot and he chuckles. “Miss J probably has plans.”

Izzie pulls on my hands. “Please come, you said it was your favorite.”

I stand with my mouth wide open, not knowing what to say. My eyes flick to Tristan’s and he smiles slightly before bending down in front of Izzie. “Another time, huh?”

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” I add.

Izzie looks up at me, her face screwing up like she’s about to cry. “But… I want you there.”

I kneel down in front of her, holding her hands. “There’ll be other times, sweetie. And I’ll see you next week.”

Clayton walks over toward us when he sees us standing by the door. “Hi, Dad.”

Tristan stands and ruffles his hair. “Hey, buddy. You ready to go?”

I watch the interaction, a weird sensation running through me.

“Clay, Miss J won’t come to the beach with us,” Izzie cries, her bottom lip jutting out.

Clayton turns toward me. “Why don’t you want to come?”

“I… I err, I’d love to come, but I wouldn’t want to intrude on family day.” My gaze flits to Tristan before moving back to Clayton. “And I’m sure your mom wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

His head snaps to the floor. “Mom isn’t—”

“Clay,” Tristan interrupts. “Let’s not talk about Mom.” His eyes fill with sadness before he says, “Why don’t you two go and help everyone else tidy up while I talk to Miss J?”

Clayton walks off without acknowledging either of us, but Izzie looks up at Tristan before swinging her head toward me, her lips dropping into a pout as she walks away.

“I don’t—”

“You’re—”

We try to talk at the same time, laughing awkwardly at the exchange before he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Izzie really wants you to come.” I nod, looking over at her trying to carry an armful of paint palettes but turn back as he sighs, his gaze flitting about the studio. “You’re more than welcome to come if you want… for Izzie of course.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I reply, looking down at my hands.

“I won’t even talk to you if you don’t want me to.” His statement has me looking back up to him, seeing playfulness in his gray eyes.

I snort, glancing over at the kids. The war raging in my head is a losing battle for the side of me that wants to run and hide in my office, but the side that wants to go with them has me nodding my head against my better judgement.

“Sure, but on one condition,” I say as I turn back toward him and see him raise a brow at me in question. “You answer my question of why you were here last Friday.”

He waits a beat before nodding. “Sounds fair. Be ready around ten. Where should I…” He fidgets on the spot, his hands pushing inside his jeans pocket.

“My mom’s,” I say sheepishly, reeling off the address for him.

“Right... So, ten?” Izzie and Clay walk back over and he takes Izzie’s hand in his. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she squeals, looking up at us both with a hopeful look in her eyes.

Tristan chuckles and I stare after them as he pulls Clayton into him and walks out of the door so I don’t hear his reply to her.

I jump as my mom sidles up to me. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I overheard the conversation—”

“Listening in more like,” I grumble.

“So? I still heard what I heard.” She turns toward me, a serious look on her face. “Do you really think that this is the best move for you right now?”

“How could I say no to Izzie?” Or Tristan for that matter.

She sighs. “Be careful, Harmony, you’re playing in dangerous territory. You two have history; I don't want you getting hurt again.”

I wholeheartedly agree with her about everything she said; I’m even second guessing my split-second decision to go to the beach with them now. But it’s not like I have the intention of going because I want to spend time with him; Izzie’s hurt face when I said no was the only thing on my mind when I said yes, but I guess I can see how it looks to my mom.

“I will. I really didn’t think it through when I agreed to go, but I can’t let Izzie down now.”

She nods in agreement with me and claps her hands together, much like I do to signal the end of a session. “I guess we should get set up for the next class.”

She flits off and starts to wipe down the tables, but I’m still standing, staring at the door and thinking about what a stupid move it was to agree to go to the beach with them.

I pack the sandwiches in the cooler bag along with bags of chips, bottles of water, and cake. Can’t forget the cake—it’s Izzie’s favorite food. I close the lid when everything is in there, zipping it up before lifting it off the counter and walking toward the front door, placing it next to the beach bag that’s full of towels and sunscreen.

I remember a time when going to the beach was simple; I’d jump in the car in my shorts, taking only a towel, not needing anything else. Now it’s not that simple; now I have to pack everything but the kitchen sink.

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, pumpkin?” I call back, walking toward the stairs and climbing them two at a time.

“Do you think Miss J will have a swimsuit?”

I smile wide as I make it to Izzie’s door, seeing that she’s packing her own bag, stuffing it with things that she’ll probably never even use.

“I’m sure she will have.”

“Are you really sure? I could let her borrow one of mine?” she asks, a frown on her face.

I lean against the doorframe, chuckling at her as Clay comes to join me, a book under his arm. I look down at him: his dark blue shorts fall just below his knees and his white t-shirt is as crisp and white as the day it left the store. He has a cap on his head facing backward and his sunglasses clutched in the hand that isn’t holding the book.

When I picked the kids up yesterday, I never expected to have Izzie want Harmony to come to the beach with us, she caught me off guard and I panicked. Truth be told, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since Monday. The memory of her sitting opposite me in Zanders and watching the glow on her face as she ate the steak flits through my mind before I push it away.

“She won’t fit in yours, Izzie,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“Ugh! You’re such a… a boy!”

I chuckle at them as Clay rolls his eyes. “Hurry up already! I want to leave.”

“Clay,” I warn.

He shrugs. “What? She’s taking too long.”

Izzie stomps off into her walk-in closet, coming out with her floppy summer hat in her hand and placing it on her head before she grabs her giant sunglasses and pushes them over her eyes.

“I’m ready,” she says, picking up her white and pink bag and the bear that she brought home from art class. She pushes between us, her flip-flops slapping against the stairs as she walks down them.

“Come on,” I say to Clay, chuckling.

I follow him down the stairs, meeting Izzie at the door as she opens it. I click the button on my fob to open the car so that they can get in as I carry all of the beach bags and the cooler bag with the food in it.

Once it’s all loaded in the trunk, I slide into the driver’s seat and check that they’re all strapped in, including the bear who is sitting in the middle with its own hat and sunglasses on.

I smirk at Izzie’s concern for the bear before turning the ignition on and reversing out of the driveway.

It’s not until we’re halfway to Harmony’s mom’s place that I realize that I’m about to spend the whole day with Harmony and the kids. Being at the adult art class and the restaurant was different; there were other people there as a buffer, but here at the beach, there’s only going to be us and the kids. I asked Amelia if she wanted to come, hoping that she’d say yes, but there’s still something not right with her. She was laid up in bed watching Netflix, hardly paying attention to me as she waved me off, telling me to have a good time without her.

“Are we there yet?” Izzie asks as colorful houses loom in sight, bouncing in her seat.

“Nearly,” I answer her, driving down the road and pulling up outside of a navy blue paneled house.

Harmony is standing on the small porch with a bag at her feet as she waits for us, her eyes watching the car as it comes to a complete stop. My eyes scan her, taking her all in; the denim shorts that she’s wearing show off her legs and I can’t help but stare at them before moving to the green tank top that covers her torso. My eyes linger there for a second until my gaze lifts up to her face. She’s even more beautiful than she was all those years ago.

“Is that Miss J’s house?” Izzie asks.

I swallow as Harmony walks down the couple of steps, her own bag in her hand, entrancing me.

“Yeah,” I answer, shaking my head. “This is her house.”

“But... it’s so small. How can someone live there?”

I pull my gaze away from Harmony and turn around in my seat. “Not everyone has a big house like us, pumpkin. Some people live in small houses, some people don’t even live in houses, instead they live in apartments.” I stop for a second, watching her eyes as they take in all of the information that I’m giving her. “And some people don’t live inside at all, they have to sleep outside.”

“But… don’t they get cold?”

I clear my throat as the door opens, fighting with myself to not look at Harmony as she slides in the passenger side.

“I suspect they do, pumpkin.”

She thinks on that for a couple of seconds, moving her eyes from mine to the window before nodding her head at herself. “We should help them.” My eyes widen at her. How can a nearly six-year-old little girl think such selfless thoughts? “Can we, Daddy?”

“Of course we can.” I smile at her and lift my hand for a high-five.

She smacks her small palm against mine before I spin back around, catching Harmony’s gaze.

“Hey.” I smile, clearing my throat and shuffling in my seat. The confined space we’re in makes me all the more aware of her.

“Hey.” She spins around in her seat facing the kids. “Hi, Izzie, hi, Clayton. Are you excited to build some sandcastles?”

“I am!” Izzie squeals as I pull away from the curb. “I wanted to bring you a swimsuit to borrow.” I don’t even need to see her face to know that she’s pouting. “But they said that you already have one.”

Harmony chuckles, the freeness of it lifting the tension I’m feeling for a split second. “I do, sweetie, but thank you. That was very thoughtful.”

“I told you she would,” Clay comments, his head already stuck in The Horse and His Boy.

I drive for another ten minutes, the car silent apart from Izzie’s humming before I blurt out, “I made a picnic.”

Why did I just say that?

My eyes widen and my mouth opens and closes, trying to say something else to explain why, but I come up empty.

Harmony looks over at me and grins. “That’s nice, I hope you packed cake.”

“Of course.” I scoff, taking a right turn. “Can’t forget the cake.” I lower my voice to a whisper as I raise my brows. “Izzie would kill me if I did.”

“That makes two of us,” she replies, jokingly.

I chuckle, my lips spreading into a huge grin as she shuffles forward, pressing the button on the radio and screwing her face up at the song that starts to play. She continues to press buttons until she finds a song that she likes and then leans back, smiling softly at me.

Things feel easy with us right now; nothing like the tense atmosphere that has been wrapping around us since I found out that she was the kids’ art teacher. I still have that anger simmering inside, but it’s not toward her anymore; it’s toward the situation that we’re in and the hand that we were dealt.

“We have to have good music on a road trip. Isn’t that right, Izzie?” She spins around in her seat again and sings a line of the chorus with Izzie.

I shake my head at them but I can’t deny that it warms my heart to see them like this. Izzie only has Amelia and my mom to do things like this with, and even though they give her all the attention she needs, it’s still not the same as what a mom would do, no matter how hard they try.

I slow down as I come to the exit for the beach, flicking on my turn signal and pulling the car to the right. Izzie squeals when she sees the sign for the beach with a picture of a sandcastle next to the name.

“I’m so excited!” She shuffles in her seat, lifting up to look out of the window. “It’s the sea! Do you see that, Willow Bear?”

I turn into the makeshift parking lot, putting the car in park and spinning around in my seat. “Who’s ready?”

“Me!” Izzie and Harmony shout at the same time.

I pick my Raybans up off the dash, putting them over my eyes and opening the door, popping the trunk and grabbing the bags as Harmony gets the kids out of the car and holds onto Izzie’s hand.

I hear them chatting away as Clay meets me at the trunk, waiting for me to close it before walking over to the beach with me.

“Izzie likes her,” he comments, tilting his head to the side before looking up at me.

“And you?” I ask, wading through the sand and feeling it filling my shoes.

He coughs. “Yeah, she’s nice.”

My heart skips a beat at the sad look in his eyes but it soon disappears as Izzie calls over to him, asking him to go in the sea with her. He holds his book out for me to hold and I tilt my head, telling him to put it inside the bag that I’m carrying as I have no free hands.

He runs down the beach, stripping off his t-shirt and I turn around before remembering that the kids need—

“Wait! You need sun—” No sooner have I said it do I turn around to where Harmony is standing, a bottle of sunscreen in her hand as she plasters Clay with it before he gets any further.

“Miss J already did it, Daddy.” Izzie sticks her tongue out before placing Willow Bear next to Harmony.

I nod in reply and set the bags down in the spot that Harmony has claimed.

“This spot taken?” I ask, pulling my own t-shirt off.

Her gaze flits over my chest before coming to meet my eyes. “Sure looks that way now.”

I shrug before taking all of the towels out and setting one down on the sand before sitting down next to her, a giant grin on my face. “Yep.” I turn my gaze to Clay and Izzie where they run down to the sparkling blue ocean before saying, “Don’t go too deep into the water.” I pause. “And stay where I can see you!”

“Okay!” Clay shouts as he turns back around to face me before Izzie cheers and continues running toward the water, Clay on her tail.

Harmony chuckles lightly as we watch Clay lift Izzie up, her squealing in delight. “He’s so good with her, not all siblings have the bond that they do.”

“They don’t.” I lean back on my elbows before crossing my ankles. “Clay seems to be less… stressed lately,” I comment. “He hasn’t come into my room in the middle of the night scared for a few nights now.”

I close my eyes as I realize what I said to her. Why did I say that? She doesn’t want to know about Clay and the fact that he gets into bed with me most nights, scared to death of the dark and the nightmares that haunt him when he closes his eyes.

I turn to face her, seeing the sadness shining in her eyes at the mention of Clay. “Does he normally get into bed with you?” She worries her bottom lip. “Izzie mentioned that he’s scared of the dark.”

I run my hands down my face. “He is… and I don’t mean your average scared, he’s petrified. For the first couple of years after…” I trail off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air before I shake my head and clear my throat. “He sleeps with me most nights, he’s too scared to be in a room by himself. My mom keeps saying that I need to get him counseling but… I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of being judged by some shrink.”

“I guess the firefly jars aren’t helping the way I thought they would,” she mumbles to herself, biting her lip before turning toward me. “It’s not my place to say at all, but… I think he would benefit from seeing someone. No one is going to judge you for loving your kids and wanting to do what’s best for them.”

“I don’t know,” I reply before looking down at the water and seeing Clay and Izzie splashing each other. “I don’t want someone thinking that I don’t look after my kids, but it’s hard. People see a single father and start to think things.”

“Anyone with two eyes can see how much you care for them.” She frowns, looking away before turning back and catching my gaze. “So... it’s only the three of you?”

I sit up, my back straightening as nerves run through me. I knew this was going to come up at some stage, but I didn’t think it’d be right here, right now. “I…” I turn my face away and back toward her, my brows dropping low into a v on my forehead. “Yeah.” I clear my throat and shuffle uncomfortably. “Their mom, she…” I can’t say it; the words don’t want to physically come out of my mouth as a lump forms in my throat. “She… died.” I say the last word as a whisper, the wind carrying it over to her.

Just thinking about what happened to Natalia that day obliterates me, but the fact that Harmony still doesn’t know who their mother is feels like someone is stabbing me in the heart over and over again. I know that I have to tell her, but it doesn’t stop me not wanting to cause her more pain than I already have. We’ve both had enough pain to last a lifetime; I can still see the hurt I caused her all those years ago when I look into her beautiful honey eyes. I have no doubt that she can see the pain reflected in mine too; however much I try to hide it, I’ve never been good at shielding myself from her and now isn’t any different.

“Tristan, I…” I can see the emotion start to fill her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

I look down at the sand, scooping up a handful and watching it dissipate between my fingers as I splay them open. “Why do people always say that?” My voice comes out harsher than I meant it to and I immediately snap my head in her direction. “I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

I move my hand from out of the sand, dusting it off on my shorts before running it through my hair and feeling the leftover grains rubbing against my scalp. “It’s just… I don’t know how to say this.” I swallow, taking a deep breath as I gather myself. I can’t believe I’m about to tell her. “You knew their mom.”

She pulls away slightly, sitting up straighter as she frowns. “I… What?”

My muscles are so tense, I don’t know how she’s going to take this. After I left her that summer, she had no idea what I left her for—who I left her for. “Their mom is Natalia,” I blurt out before holding my breath, waiting for her reaction and expecting her to shout or scream, or at least storm off.

I wait a couple of seconds before I turn my gaze back toward her, watching as her breath hitches and a tear escapes her eye and travels down her cheek. “Natalia? She… she’s gone?”

“Yeah,” I croak out and close my eyes, trying to fight back the memories from that day—so much blood—before I center myself and open them back up, staring into Harmony’s eyes. “She died after she gave birth to Izzie.”

Her hand covers her mouth as the tears track down her cheeks like rain battering against the window in a storm, her sadness and grief obvious. “So, Izzie never met her?”

I shake my head, my stomach bottoming out as I look down at the crystal blue sea where Izzie and Clay are playing at the edge of the water. “I sometimes wonder who has it worse—Clay for meeting her and missing her, or Izzie for never having met her.”

I don’t know what I’m trying to achieve by telling her something that has always bugged me, but I say it anyway.

She’s silent for so long that at first I think she hasn’t heard me, so I turn my gaze from Clay and Izzie to her, watching her reaction as she faces the water, watching my kids in the same way that I was, all the while mourning her friend.

“You two were... You were married?” she asks suddenly in a voice that has a slight edge to it.

I clutch my hands together, squeezing so tightly that they turn white from the force as I look down at where they sit between my legs. “We were,” I answer, not wanting to keep anything else from her. “There was a lot of things going on back then, Harm. Things you didn’t know about—”

“Don’t.” She turns to face me, wiping at her cheeks. “Don’t try to make excuses for it, own your decision.” Another tear rolls down her cheek.

“I… I’m not...” I desperately want to say more to her, to tell her everything, but now isn’t the right time—I don’t know when will be.

She swipes at her face, dispersing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m mad as hell right now, so don’t bother.” She pauses before saying, “I am sorry for what you all went through though. It can’t have been easy having all of this on your shoulders and bringing the kids up on your own at the same time.”

I lift my head and stare at her, watching as her eyes flash with understanding but also sadness and anger. “It wasn’t… it still isn’t,” I reply, my voice low.

She could be sitting here, telling me that she doesn’t want to hear about any of this and storming off, but she doesn’t. Instead she’s sitting here listening to me as I tell her all about the woman who took her place; the one who gave me the two most precious things in this entire world.

I watch her, enthralled as she tips her head back, looking up at the sun and closing her eyes.

I lean forward, entranced by her, not able to rip my gaze away from her because I’m captivated by all that she is and all of the goodness that runs through her; something that I’ve always been drawn to.

A single tear tracks down the contour of her cheekbone, but she doesn’t bother to wipe it away, sitting there in silence as she wanders off somewhere in her mind.

I don’t disturb her, I let her have this moment.

My heart hurts; Natalia will never get to meet her baby girl, she’ll never get to sit here like I am, talking to her husband.

Her husband.

I should be feeling resentful toward her for marrying Tristan after my life was turned upside down, but I’m not, not even a little bit.

I’m angry at him though for trying to justify it to me. I’m curious what he was going to say, but at the same time, I don’t think that I’m ready to hear it.

I take a few moments to mourn for my friend who lost her life, and for the kids who will grow up without a mom. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

“Miss J!” Izzie shouts, making me open my eyes and wipe at the tear that’s settled itself on the end of my chin. She comes barreling toward us and stops between Tristan and me. “Come swim with me!”

My eyes flick toward Tristan, seeing his broken expression and then back to Izzie. I paste a smile on my face before standing up and grabbing the bottom of my tank top, lifting it up and over my head.

My head swivels toward Tristan as I hear him suck in a breath and I raise a brow at him, causing him to look toward the water as I undo the button on my jean shorts and shimmy out of them.

“Ready?” Izzie shouts and I take her offered hand.

As she drags me toward the water, I turn back toward Tristan, inhaling deeply as I see his eyes are trained firmly on mine and Izzie’s joined hands. I turn away and walk toward the lapping water, feeling the coolness of it touch my toes, all the while my heart breaking for this little family.

No kid should have to grow up without a parent, and no one should have to go through the pain of losing their spouse before they’re both wrinkled and ready to leave this world.

“Clayton? Want to come in the water with us?” I call to him, finally getting my emotions under control. He looks up and shakes his head at me before turning back around and piling more sand into the bucket in front of him.

My eyes catch Tristan’s as he leans back in the sand, his gray eyes focused on both Izzie and me.

Izzie squeals, making my head snap back to her. “It’s cold!”

“It’ll only be cold until we get in and start moving about.” She clings onto my leg and I chuckle before picking her up and wading farther into the sea until I’m knee-deep. “I’ll lower you down into it and as soon as you feel the water on your toes, sit down.”

Her blue eyes search mine—the same blue eyes I used to look into when I looked at Natalia—before she nods her head. “Okay, but you have to do it too.”

“I will,” I squeak out, my throat clogged up with emotion. I cough to clear it. “Ready? One, two, three.” I don’t wait for her to protest as I sit us both down in the salty water, squealing and laughing together as we splash around.

We jump up as each wave comes toward us and she flaps her arms about, trying to capture Tristan’s attention back on the beach. “Daddy, look at me! I’m a dolphin!”

Tristan laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, showing that the youthful look they once held has been weathered by the years that have passed.

He pushes up off the sand and my eyes widen when I get my first proper look at his defined torso, the muscles rippling as he runs down the beach toward us. “Can any dolphin join in?” he asks, diving into the sea and splashing us as he swims closer.

Izzie giggles. “Daddy! You’re splashing me!”

He chuckles and dips low, putting his head under the water and disappearing again. I spin around looking for him and we both squeal as he pops up next to us, taking Izzie out of my arms and spinning her around in the air.

She giggles, throwing her arms wide and lifting her face up to the sky. “I can fly!”

I let them have their moment, watching the father/daughter relationship they have. The notion of why she’s a daddy’s girl finally hits me full force, making me need a moment to collect myself. I may be mad at him, but he’s had a hard time too, he doesn’t need me making it worse.

I turn around and ring the excess water out of my hair, wading back through the sea and onto the beach, sitting down beside Clayton.

“That’s a pretty spectacular sandcastle.” He eyes me and smiles cautiously, turning his head back toward it as a blush creeps up his cheeks. I can see that he’s not good at taking compliments. “Mind if I join in?”

He shakes his head and I pick up the bucket, filling it with wet sand as a still giggling Izzie is placed down beside me.

Tristan runs his fingers through his sandy-blond hair and shakes the water out of it before sitting down in front of me. “I think I might’ve turned to ice,” he says, chuckling and placing his cold hands on my back.

I screech and jump up, backing away from him. “Don’t do that, I’ve only just warmed up!”

He stands up slowly, bending at the knees and crouching slightly before stepping toward me and holding his hands out in front of him. “Is Harmony scared of cold hands?” He raises his brows up and down and dives for me.

I spin around and run away—clumsily—as Izzie and Clayton cheer their dad on in the background. I don’t know why I’m entertaining this, but it feels good to not think about anything for once and just be in the moment.

He catches me as I stumble and wraps his arms around my waist, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder before walking toward the sea.

“Tristan, what are you doing? Tristan!” I squeal as he wades in and tosses me into the waves. If I’m going in then so is he, I don’t let go of his neck, causing him to topple in with me.

He gasps when he breaks the surface just after I do, seeing me spluttering. “Oh, shit, sorry.” He’s not, he’s the furthest from sorry that he could be and the giant grin that covers his face attests to that.

I splutter as I try to stand up, wiping the salt water from my eyes. While I can’t see, I lose my footing and stumble before dipping back under the waves.

I’m not under for long because with Tristan’s quick reflexes, he pulls me out of the water and up against his taut body. His eyes shine with concern as he holds onto me, conveying that he wouldn’t ever let anything happen to me.

I cough and laugh at the same time, causing him to laugh with me.

“You okay, Harm?” he asks when I don’t stop the weird cough-laugh, his voice gruff.

My laughter dies off as I look up into his gray eyes, the starburst around his pupils sparkling just like the sea does when the sun hits it.

When he looks at me like that, I don’t know what to do or say. He’s rendered me speechless.

“I—”

“Miss J, are you okay?” The sound of Clayton’s voice breaks me from my trance and we pull apart quickly, both looking at the edge of the waves, seeing Clayton and Izzie with worried expressions on their faces.

“I’m fine, guys, we were only playing,” I assure them, walking over with Tristan following behind me.

“Daddy, you shouldn’t have done that,” Izzie scolds him and I turn my head to look at him briefly, mocking him with a raised brow.

He winks at me, making me blush and murmurs a not very convincing, “Sorry,” as he wades through the water. He walks past me and whispers, “Not really.” Which causes me to narrow my eyes at him as I watch him walk over to where the towels are laid out.

He throws me one as I reach there and I catch it, wrapping it around Izzie before holding my hand out for another.

He startles and looks between Izzie and me with an unreadable look on his face before shaking his head and handing me another towel that I wrap around myself. “That was… Never mind. Are we ready to eat?”

“Yeah!” the kids chime together and we all sit down, tucking into the sandwiches that Tristan has packed up for us as deep-rooted feelings that I’ve kept locked away swarm in my belly like bees in a hive.

Today feels like an awakening. I’ve been focused too much on my own pain and grief that I haven’t been paying enough attention to what is going on around me, but I see it now.

I see the way that Clayton keeps looking over at me every now and again, a strange expression on his face. I see the way that Izzie gravitates toward me, seeking a bond, and it scares me. But most of all, I can see the sadness and the pain that is locked behind Tristan’s eyes every time he gazes at his two perfect children. And that about guts me. I’m not the only one suffering with hidden pain.

As soon as Tristan pulled out of the parking lot at the beach, the kids fell asleep, making the car fall into companionable silence—save for the soft snores coming from the back seat.

After eating our picnic, I built more sandcastles and played in the sea with Izzie and Clayton, laughing more than I have in a long time. Seeing them both be so carefree and happy warmed my heart, and even though the day had been emotionally draining, I’m glad that I went in the end despite my trepidation.

Being back around Tristan feels surprisingly good, I’ve always missed him, but being in the same place as him; breathing the same air that he is, it’s thawed my icy exterior toward him.

I watch the lights on the freeway illuminating the inside of the car every couple of seconds, my gaze drifting over to his strong hands as he flicks on his turn signal to take the next exit.

He clears his throat. “Thank you for coming today, the kids loved having someone else other than their boring dad to play with.”

“I had a great time, it was nice to do something fun for a change,” I reply, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake up Clayton and Izzie.

“It was,” he says, flitting his eyes back on the road. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.”

I wring my hands in my lap. “Yeah, me neither.”

I’m silent for the next few minutes, not knowing what to say or do. Worrying my lip, I open my mouth to say something again but nothing comes out. I’ve been alone with him a couple of times now, but for some reason, this feels different. Almost like the darkness makes it more intimate.

“So…” I say, trying to distract my own thoughts that are telling me to ask him more questions about his life. “How’s your mom?” I have no idea why I asked that.

He quirks up his brow, he knows how I felt about her when we were together. “My mom?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

“She’s okay,” he replies, driving through the tunnel toward Mom’s house before clearing his throat. “She and Edward are… a thing now.”

My head swivels toward him. “A thing… like… together?” He nods, screwing up his face in mock disgust. “But… what about your dad?”

He scoffs. “She divorced him the moment he set foot in prison.”

I smile, turning my head to look out of the window as we pull onto my street. “Good for her.”

“How’s your mom?” he asks.

I nod. “She’s doing a lot better now that I’ve moved back. I think she was lonely without my dad.”

“Your dad?” he asks, his brows drawing down into a frown.

“He passed away two years ago, it was hard on the both of us and I felt bad for living so far away. But she seems happy now.”

“I’m so sorry, Harm,” he says, coming to a stop outside the house.

I lift my beach bag off the floor and turn toward him. “He was a good man, and I miss him, but that’s life.” He nods, his hands twisting around the steering wheel as he turns away from me and I wonder if I should tell him about who my mom is. Deciding I should, I bite my lip before blurting out, “Tilly is my mom.”

His head snaps toward me, a shocked expression on his face before he chuckles a few seconds later. “That actually makes sense.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why’s that?”

“She… I’ve caught her throwing me shade a few times, that’s all.”

I chuckle. “Don’t you say you didn’t deserve it.”

He turns away from me, the tension I’ve caused from what was meant to be a joke filling the car.

I clear my throat. “Thanks for today, I’ve had a great time.” I turn my head, smiling at the kids’ sleeping faces. “Tell them I said I’ll see them next Saturday.”

“Will do,” he replies, watching me as I shoulder my bag, opening my door and sliding out.

I shut the car door behind me and wave before spinning around and climbing the steps up to the front door of Mom’s house.

As soon as the door is closed behind me, I press my back against it, shutting my eyes and breathing in deep. What am I doing?

“Harm?” Mom calls.

I try to clear the emotion that’s collected throughout the day out of my throat. I’ve tried to act normal, but what is normal when you’re spending the day with your ex and his kids that he had with your best friend from college?

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute. I’m going to put my wet things in the laundry basket.” I trudge up the stairs and shut myself in my room, the bag over my shoulder dropping to the floor as I slide down my wall.

I hang my head in my hands, finally letting the emotion overwhelm me. I’ve always been so in tune with mine and others’ emotions that I seem to feel deeper than most.

I crawl across the floor to my old desk that I used to study at and open the bottom drawer, pulling out a framed photograph from my college days. I stand and move over to sit on the end of my bed, looking down at the smiling faces of our “gang.”

Tristan and Nathan have me in their arms like a baby and I have an arm around Natalia’s neck who is crouched down, her face pressed against mine with her dark blue eyes sparkling into the camera.

My chest seizes and I struggle to take my next breath—she’s gone. She’s really gone and I never kept in contact with her. But if I had, would I have ever been able to forgive her for marrying Tristan? Did he leave me for her? Had he always wanted her over me?

I’m trying not to feel bitter toward either of them but it’s hard; it’s hard when we were such good friends—best friends. She knew how much I loved him, how we were the other half of each other, or at least that’s how I felt.

“Say cheese,” a random passerby that we grabbed to take our photo says.

“Pickles!” Nate shouts, making us all laugh.

The guy looks at the photo, smiling. “That’s a good one, guys.”

Nate and Tris put me down before running over to the guy for the camera. “Thanks, man. Have a great day.”

The guy salutes us before walking off down the sidewalk next to the field we’re on.

I flop down beside Natalia on the grass, leaning back on my hands as I watch the guys walk over to join us, admiring Tris’s muscular thighs in his cargo shorts.

“Let me see,” Natalia says excitedly, holding her hand out to Nate for the camera. He hands it to her and she presses a button and laughs. “This is a really good one.” She sighs as she hands it over to me and I smile down at the photo of us all having fun. “I’m gonna miss this.”

“Miss what?” Tris asks, slotting in behind me so I can rest my head back on his chest.

“This,” she says, pointing to each of us with a sad face. “We finish college in a month, well, you, Nate, and I do.” She smiles apologetically at me; she knows how much I’m going to miss them being around all of the time: it’s going to feel like I’ve lost a limb. “No more messing around, no more ditching class… Nate.”

“Hey! I object!” he shouts in his no-nonsense lawyer tone, tackling her to the ground and making her squeal.

“Nate! Get off me, you big buffoon!” Natalia squeals, making Tris’s chest rise and fall rapidly as he chuckles at their antics.

She gets up off the ground and runs away from him, her long blond hair flowing behind her in the wind. Nate chases after her, his long brown hippie hair—as I call it—flowing behind him like hers. They’re incorrigible. As cousins, they always find some way to wind each other up.

My eyes flutter shut as Tris’s thumb starts rubbing gentle circles over the top of my thigh, eliciting the heat to start building deep in my stomach.

A large huff causes me to open my eyes and I watch Natalia staring down at the grass stains on her new summer dress. “Thanks a lot, dweeb.”

Nate sticks out his tongue and Natalia laughs, rolling her eyes as she catches my gaze. “So, what are you two doing when Tristan leaves college?”

I feel Tris tense behind me and I sit up, turning my head to look at him. “I… I assume Tris will go and work for his dad and I’ll finish up my last three years of college until I can open up my own studio.”

Tris nods, leaning closer and kissing me on the sensitive skin below my ear. We’ve not talked about what we’re going to do yet, but I’m glad that he has no objections to the thoughts swirling around in my head.

Natalia claps her hands, a big grin on her face as she says, “Oh, you guys are too cute.” She pauses before saying, “But get a room.” I laugh at her. “No, seriously, go!”

Her dark blue eyes have a sparkle to them so I know she’s only joking, but there’s nothing more that I’d like to do than go back to Tris’s dorm room right now.

He must have the same idea as me because he stands, pulling me with him by my hands.

“I’ll message you later,” I tell Natalia, smiling as she stands and pulls me in for a hug.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I chuckle, giving Nate a high-five before turning and entwining my fingers with Tris’s.

I grimace at the memory, trying to both hold onto the feeling of Natalia’s hug and Tristan’s hand wrapped around mine. But Nat is gone now, and Tristan and I? We’re different people. It’s been a decade since he left me and I need to let this go; too much has happened between now and then and I’m tired. I’m tired of holding onto these feelings and letting them take me back to the past.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this is a new beginning.