I was born a beach child. I spent my younger years on the sand, learning lessons on the coarse granules. My emotions came and went with the tide as a teenager. As a woman, I look to the vast expanse for wisdom.

And even though the water can wash away the imperfections in the sand, they are still there. The surface has been glazed over, nicks and flaws erased. But the underlying issues still remain, eroding at the core until it collapses.

Kind of the like the inside of my heart. I’ve managed to staunch the bleeding, to tape it up and plug the gashes. But it’s still defunct, still slowly folding in on itself until the day it decides to give out.

And Carson Cole may have just cut my heart off at the knees.

I shouldn’t have even taken this meeting in the first place; I rarely go for an introductory meeting. But part of me had wanted to get out, and Melissa had sounded nice in her initial emails. It was stupid of me not to push her about what company she worked for, but I still liked a challenge. I thought it would be spontaneous, and plus I loved the Crab House.

“Blake! Blake, wait!”

I hear him calling my name, and the urge to escape has never been more primal. I can’t hear that voice ringing in my ears, I just know it will haunt me for years to come. My feet won’t take me fast enough, my hands fumbling in my purse for my keys.

“Stop!” A hand lands on my lower forearm, and the connection of skin-to-skin almost knocks me over.

My knees buckle as every molecule in his fingers reacts to every molecule of my arm. It’s indescribable, this meeting of our flesh. Like we were made for each other, two quilts stitched the same exact way. His touch is both heaven and hell, it’s repairing my bruised and broken heart and also slicing it ventricle from ventricle.

“Don’t.” One word, it’s all I can utter.

He pulls his hand away like I’ve branded him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know; I had no idea that this meeting was going to be with you. I had no idea … you’re a graphic designer?”

To his credit, Carson does look surprised. “I’m going.”

I turn on my heel, having no intention of explaining to him what I do now. Or what I’ve done, how I’ve survived, the last ten years.

“Please, Blake. Please listen to me.”

Something in his voice stops me, and I realize that in my bones, somewhere deep in the marrow, he still has the same power over me. I don’t turn, but I do stop.

“I had no idea that Melissa set that meeting up with you. She’s only three years in, has no idea about my past or us. I would never intentionally trap you like that. But I do want to talk. Ever since I saw you in the supermarket, ever since the first day I saw you when I was seven. You have to know, there are so many things I need you to know.”

I stay silent, unable to bring myself to walk away or just face him. My body won’t commit to any path.

“At least know that I’m back. I’m taking over the company; I’m going to be around. I should have called, should have gotten a message to you somehow. I’m sorry for that.”

“I wouldn’t have answered.” The first sentence I’ve spoken to the man in ten years, and that’s the one that pops into my head.

But I’m right, I wouldn’t have. And he knows it, which is why he didn’t. He also knows that his element of surprise was the only way he was ever going to see me.

I finally turn, the gorgeous man standing in front of me all too much and all too familiar. “So you’re back. Fine. Just stay away from me.”

Carson takes my facing him as an invitation. “Can’t do that. Especially after I’ve seen your work. Melissa is going to hire you, no matter how horribly that meeting went.”

His hair is longer than I remember it, dark tufts curling back on top of his head.

“The good thing about running your own company is that you can choose which clients you work with. I won’t see you, Carson.” Speaking his name is like taking a bullet.

Those deep brown eyes flash; he was always one to rise to a challenge. “We have to talk, Blake. We’ve both taken our wounded pride and went to opposite corners for ten years; this discussion is way overdue and a long time coming. Don’t you want to stop hurting?”

God, the idea that I could nurse this pain away was one that sprinkled hope over the gaping hole in my chest. But it wasn’t possible. There were no words that could soothe, no explanations that could act as a balm to my aching. And even if we did clear up whatever was unresolved between us, there was still an entire portion of the picture that would still be missing.

“That is all my life is now. Or did you not hear I’d had to bury another family member?” It’s a cheap shot, because I would have gone postal if he’d come to the funeral.

But in the back of my mind, on that day, I’d hoped he would come through that door. And he never had.

“You didn’t want me there anyway, so don’t throw daggers at a target that isn’t even there to begin with.” His expression goes fiery, the anger burning in his eyes.

I promised myself that I’d avoid him at all costs, that there was no use in seeking him out because it would only end tragically. But now that he was in front of me, this person who I’d shared all of life’s most intimate moments with, I couldn’t help but want to vomit all of the pent up emotions and feelings I’d locked away inside.

“Why would you even come back here?” In my voice, I can hear the unshed tears.

Carson combs a hand through his hair, the long silvery scar that scaled from just under his armpit all the way down to his elbow catching in the sun. That scar brought nightmares back from the dead.

“Because it’s my home, too. And eventually, you have to come home.”

I wish he’d never said that. I wish this was never his home. I wish I’d never met him.

“Because I respect your parents and what they’ve done for this community and the horses, I won’t stand in your way. But let me make myself clear … I don’t want to see you. Ever. I don’t want to know you, and I don’t want you anywhere near me. This, us? It died ten years ago with him.”

He clutches a hand to his chest, right over his heart, as if my words have caused it to fail. “Don’t think I don’t know that. Everyday I see his face, Blake. Everyday.”

Grabbing my keys, I unlock my car door and try to hold in the tears threatening to fall like hurricane rain.

“Don’t pretend that your pain is greater than mine. You took my other half.”

And with that, I slam the door, my hands shaking on the wheel as I drive back to my seclusion.