Chapter 18 The Edge of Things

Amy adjusted George in her arms, cradling him gently as she sat on the patio. The faint ocean breeze rustled the trees, carrying with it the distant hum of conversation and laughter from the resort guests. But what really caught her attention was the unmistakable sound of raised voices—coming from the beach.

She tilted her head slightly. "Is that…"

Mon, leaning lazily against the railing beside her, smirked. "Oh yeah. It's happening."

Amy raised a brow. "What's happening?"

Mon jerked his chin toward the beach, where Sloan and Sicily were locked in what could only be described as a heated argument.

"The meltdown," Mon said with a grin.

Amy chuckled, shaking her head as she watched Sicily stomp after Sloan, her arms flailing as she threw words at him like daggers. Sloan, on the other hand, had his hands in his pockets, walking toward the shore with an expression that was a mix of frustration and indifference.

"Ugh," Amy muttered. "Men."

"Excuse you," Mon shot back. "This is quality entertainment."

Amy smirked. "You really enjoy this, don't you?"

Mon shrugged. "Hey, when you live on an island, you take what drama you can get."

Amy rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips. It was almost amusing—if not for the underlying tension radiating from the couple below.

Then, as she adjusted George once more, a thought struck her.

"Where's Charlie?" she asked, glancing at Mon.

Mon's playful smirk faded just a little. "The secret place."

Amy's expression sobered. "Oh."

They exchanged a brief glance, both understanding the weight of those words.

Charlie had always retreated there when she needed to be alone. And it had been a while since she'd last gone up.

Amy sighed. "That's… not great."

Mon nodded. "Yeah."

They both knew something was off.

On the shoreline…Sloan had had enough.

He suddenly stopped walking, turning sharply to face Sicily.

"Why are we even having this conversation?" His voice was low, sharp.

Sicily scoffed, folding her arms. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Sloan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Sicily, we've talked about this. You agreed. We're open. We always have been. Why are you acting like this now?"

Sicily's jaw clenched. "Because things feel different."

Sloan narrowed his eyes. "Different how?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. You tell me."

Sloan shook his head. "This is exactly what I was talking about. You're making this into something it's not."

Sicily let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Because nothing ever changes for you, does it? You just move from person to person, acting like none of it matters."

Sloan's expression hardened. "That's not fair."

Sicily stepped closer, her voice quieter but laced with something raw. "Isn't it? Then tell me—why do you seem so different around her?"

Sloan's eyes flickered with something unreadable.

Before he could answer, a movement caught his attention.

His gaze lifted—to the rooftop.

And there she was.

Charlie.

Standing alone, arms crossed, watching.

For a second, he forgot what he was saying. Forgot everything.

Why was she up there? What was it about that damn rooftop?

His brows furrowed. What was she hiding?

Sicily noticed his sudden shift in focus and turned to follow his gaze.

When she spotted Charlie, her eyes darkened.

"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered.

But Sloan wasn't listening anymore.

His mind was racing.

Because for the first time, he wasn't just looking at Charlie.

He was looking at the one place she never let anyone else go.

The place that had always been off-limits.

And for the first time, he wanted to know why.

0000

The Rooftop Secrets

Charlie stood at the very edge of the rooftop, the wind playing with the loose strands of her hair. From up here, she could see everything—the waves rolling onto the shore, the golden glow of the setting sun on the horizon, and most importantly… Sloan and Sicily.

She had heard the argument. Everyone had.

She had heard Sicily's voice rise with something that wasn't just frustration—but pain.

And she had seen Sloan's face the moment he looked up at her.

That flicker of confusion. That brief pause of something deeper before he covered it up with his usual indifference.

She should have turned away.

Should have gone inside.

Should have done anything but keep standing there, letting their eyes lock like this.

But she didn't.

Because something inside her needed to see this.

Needed to understand why he looked at her like that.

Why, in that single moment, he seemed more unsettled than she had ever seen him before.

The Beach Below

Sloan couldn't look away.

It was almost unnerving—Charlie standing there, so still, so unreachable.

And yet… it was like she was waiting.

For what?

For him?

For something else?

Sicily's voice pulled him back.

"Oh, wow," she said, crossing her arms. "You're not even trying to hide it."

Sloan exhaled sharply, finally looking at her. "Hide what?"

Sicily let out a humorless laugh. "You think I don't see it? That I haven't noticed? You've been different ever since we got here."

Sloan clenched his jaw. "I told you. Nothing's changed."

Sicily tilted her head. "Then why do you keep looking at her like that?"

Sloan didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.

All he knew was that something about Charlie was pulling him in.

And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull back.

On the Patio

Mon leaned against the railing, watching the whole thing unfold with a smirk.

"Well," he said, "that's a whole mess."

Amy sighed, shifting George slightly in her arms. "It really is."

Mon glanced at her. "Wanna place bets on who throws the first punch?"

Amy gave him a look. "Sicily, obviously."

Mon chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. She looks like she's two seconds away from throwing him into the ocean."

Amy snorted, shaking her head. But then her expression softened. "This is going to get complicated, isn't it?"

Mon's smile faded slightly. "Yeah."

Amy hesitated, then looked at him. "Do you think Charlie knows what she's doing?"

Mon exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Charlie's always known what she's doing." Then, after a pause, he added, "But I don't think she expected this."

Amy frowned. "Expected what?"

Mon's gaze flickered back to Sloan.

"That he'd be the one caught off guard."

The Cliffhanger

Charlie turned to go.

But just as she moved, Sloan took a step forward.

And for the briefest moment, it almost looked like—

Like he was going to follow her.

Like he was going to break every unspoken rule between them and find out what was up there.

Charlie's breath hitched.

And in that exact second, he saw it.

That tiny flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

That moment of something unreadable.

Sloan's fingers curled at his sides.

And he made a decision.

Tomorrow, he was going to find out what was on that rooftop.

Whether Charlie liked it or not.