CHAPTER 2

FAMILIAR STRANGERS

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away. The sound of the ocean, the wind in her hair, even the weight of her own worries disappeared. All Emma could focus on was him.

Luke stood a few feet away, framed by the fading sunlight. He looked the same yet different, the way people do after years of carrying unseen burdens. His jaw was more defined, his shoulders broader, and his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—held a depth that hadn't been there before.

He was no longer the carefree boy she remembered. He was a man now, standing tall with a calm, grounded presence that both comforted and unnerved her. His gaze held hers, steady and searching, as if he was trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with the girl he used to know.

"Luke…" Emma's voice was barely a whisper. She wasn't sure what to say. What could she say after all these years? After the silence, the distance, and all the questions she had left unanswered?

He took a step closer, and the intensity in his eyes softened slightly. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again."

"I didn't think I'd ever come back," she admitted, her heart pounding.

Luke nodded, as though he understood more than she was saying. "Why now?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Emma swallowed, feeling the weight of everything that had brought her back to this place, to this moment. She could give him the easy answer—the job loss, the need for a fresh start—but that wasn't the real reason, and they both knew it.

"I… needed to get away. And this was the only place that ever felt like home," she said finally. "I didn't know if you'd still be here."

Luke's gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes. "I never left."

Silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken things they'd both been carrying. Emma had imagined this moment a thousand times over the years, but now that it was here, she had no idea how to make sense of it.

He glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was sinking lower, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. "It's still beautiful, isn't it? This place."

Emma followed his gaze. "It is."

She hadn't come back for the scenery, though. She'd come back for the feeling this place gave her—the same feeling she'd always had around Luke. But standing there now, with the distance of a decade between them, she realized how much they'd both changed.

"Are you staying long?" Luke asked, his voice careful, measured.

"I'm not sure yet," she replied. "I haven't really planned that far ahead."

Luke's lips curved into a small, wistful smile. "Still the same Emma, then."

The comment stung more than she'd expected. She wasn't the same girl who left Westbrook all those years ago, but she didn't argue. Maybe to him, she was still that impulsive, headstrong dreamer who ran off without looking back.

"And you?" Emma ventured, tilting her head slightly. "Are you still the same Luke?"

His smile faded, and he looked down at the ground, kicking at a small stone near his foot. "Not exactly," he said softly, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. "A lot's changed."

She wanted to ask what he meant, but there was something in his eyes that warned her not to push. So instead, she simply nodded, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"You must be busy," she said awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate the conversation. "I didn't mean to—"

"I'm not," he interrupted, taking a step closer. "I'm not busy."

Their eyes met again, and for a moment, the years between them seemed to dissolve. The connection they'd once had, that deep, unspoken bond, still flickered beneath the surface, fragile yet undeniable.

Emma's breath caught in her throat. She had spent so long wondering if she'd ever see him again, and now that she was standing in front of him, she didn't know if she was ready for whatever this was. Was he angry? Did he still care? Or was she just a ghost from his past?

"I'm glad you're back," Luke said suddenly, his voice softer than before. "I never understood why you left the way you did. I tried to. But… I guess I thought if you ever came back, you'd have your reasons."

Emma's chest tightened. She could feel the weight of the truth pressing against her, the truth she had buried so deep. She had left Westbrook not just because of her dreams, but because she had been afraid—afraid of how much she loved him, afraid of losing herself in him.

"I had reasons," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know how to explain them back then."

Luke nodded slowly, though his eyes held a trace of hurt. "Maybe you can explain them now."

Emma blinked, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. She had expected him to be angry or indifferent, but instead, he seemed open, willing to hear her out. She owed him that much, but the words stuck in her throat.

Before she could speak, a distant shout from the direction of the town broke the moment. A man waved at Luke from the edge of the path, calling his name.

Luke glanced over his shoulder, then back at Emma, a shadow of regret crossing his face. "I should go," he said reluctantly. "I've got to help with the docks before dark."

Emma nodded, though disappointment tugged at her. "Of course. I… I'll see you around?"

He hesitated for a second, as if deciding something, then nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you."

With that, he turned and jogged off toward the town, his broad figure disappearing into the fading light. Emma watched him go, her heart heavy with everything unsaid.

She stood there for a long time after he left, the wind cooling as the sun dipped below the horizon. In the distance, the lights of Westbrook began to twinkle, and the comforting sounds of the ocean filled the silence.

Emma sighed, finally turning back toward the town herself. She had come here seeking clarity, hoping to find some way to rebuild her life. But now, standing at the edge of a past she had never fully let go of, she realized that her return to Westbrook wasn't just about starting over. It was about facing what she had left behind.

And Luke was at the heart of it.