Chapter 49. This Love.

"In silent screams. In wildest dreams. I never dreamed of this… This love is good. This love is bad. This love is alive, back from the dead."

Erik had helped me down the stairs and to the pool area, the sun was unforgiving at this hour and I could feel it. The air was fresh and salty as it brushed against my sunscreen lathered skin. The final days in paradise feel both daunting and exciting. I watched as Erik took the first few steps into the pool. Grimacing at the temperature change against his golden, warmed skin.

"Ready?" he asked, reaching up for my hand.

"My ankle's still a little tender," I said, gesturing vaguely to the wrap. "I can't exactly cannonball in."

"No cannonballs," he promised. "Like I said. We'll float." He stepped up a few stairs, offering his arm like it was something out of an old movie. "Come on, I'll help."

I let him take my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine with a quiet steadiness. As I limped slowly down the first step, he shifted behind me, one hand at my waist, the other light on my elbow.

"Tell me if it hurts too much," he murmured.

"It's okay," I said, even though it wasn't. Even though my chest was aching in a completely different way.

His touch was sweet. Careful. And it was killing me.

Because all I could think about was how Justin wouldn't have asked. He would've just picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and made some stupid comment about how I was "dead weight" or "how I'm lucky he works out." And I would've laughed. God, I would've laughed and pretended to protest while secretly loving how easily I fit into his arms.

But Erik… Erik was treating me like I might break. And there was something heartbreakingly lovely about that too.

When we reached the last step, the water curling just above my thighs, he paused.

"I can carry you in, if you want," he said, voice low, eyes searching mine. "Really I don't mind."

My heart stuttered. He wasn't playing. He wasn't teasing. He was just offering.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

And then he lifted me. Carefully, steadily, like I was something worth holding onto. And for just a moment, just long enough for my breath to catch, I let myself believe I had made the right choice. To walk away from something that was nothing, and straight into the arms of an actual something.

By the time he'd eased us into the water I was half-weightless in his arms, the pool soft and cool around us, something in me began to unravel. Slowly. Quietly. Like the loosening of a tightly drawn bowstring that was holding on for dear life.

"See?" he said, grinning down at me. "Floating. Effortless. Ten out of ten experience."

"Easy to say when you're not the one being carried like a damsel in distress." I joked.

"You say damsel, I say mermaid. Totally majestic. A little dramatic. Mildly threatening."

That made me laugh fully, freely, before I could stop it. He chuckled too, his eyes lighting up with something boyish and pure and oddly charming.

And then we just… floated. My arms looped loosely around his shoulders, his hands gentle at my waist, my legs curled around his waist. He let the water carry us in slow circles while the others laughed and splashed on the far end of the pool, leaving us in this little orbit of soft voices and slower time.

Justin and Hannah were still out. They probably wouldn't be back for a while.

For once, I didn't think about that.

For once, I didn't think about him.

Erik was telling me some story about his childhood best friend and a tragically bad haircut that cost him a summer crush, and I was laughing. I wasn't forcing it. I wasn't faking ease or feeding the performance version of me, I was just me, and he was meeting me there.

Every so often, he'd nudge us gently with his heel off the pool wall, keeping us moving. Not rushing. Just guiding. And this was the effortless feeling I first felt for him. God, it was ridiculous how warm that made me feel. I couldn't remember the last time someone made me feel so at ease. So safe. Not because I was hiding anything but because I wasn't expected to be anything other than myself.

And it hit me, somewhere between the floating and the laughter and the casual touch of his fingers under water:

I really liked him.

Not just the idea of him. Not just the safety, the sweetness, the "good on paper" appeal. But him. The way he watched people when they spoke. The way he remembered the details I dropped in passing. The way he made everything feel less heavy. How he made me feel like I deserved more..

There was no chase. No tug of war. Just…gravity. And I let myself fall into it. It happened like all quiet things do, slowly, then all at once.

One minute I was laughing at something stupid he had said and the next, I was kissing him.

It wasn't dramatic. No sweeping gesture. No firework sound cue. Not like our first kiss in this exact pool. Just his hand slipping around my waist, fingers brushing the dip of my spine beneath the water, and our mouths finding each other in the in-between of a smile. His lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly like sunscreen and whatever he'd sipped earlier. Sweet and a little hesitant. Respectful, but curious.

I kissed him again. And again. In between bursts of laughter, in between stories about summer camp or the best way to eat a mango. It was easy—stupidly easy. Every time we floated closer, we kissed. Every time I made a joke, he kissed the corner of my mouth like it was just part of the rhythm now. And I let it be. I wanted it to be.

The rest of the pool had gone a little quieter around us. I didn't notice. I didn't notice the sound of footsteps near the patio, or the creak of the gate, or the way voices returned lower, paired off, coming closer.

Because he was smiling at me like I'd just told him a secret. He tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a beat too long, and I leaned in, kissing him again just because I could. The ease of kissing someone you can call yours. 

Erik's arms floated around me like driftwood, his hands cradling the water just beneath my shoulder blades. Every now and then, he'd nudge me playfully backward and reel me in again, grinning like he couldn't quite believe his luck.

I wasn't used to this kind of affection. Gentle. Steady. Like he didn't need to win me, he just wanted to know me.

He kissed my forehead. "So. When we're back in Seattle, I was thinking brunch at Oddfellows. Or that little Greek place you said you've never tried?"

My heart did a quiet somersault. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do," he said, like it wasn't even a question. "And then after that maybe a drive out to the San Juans? Ferry ride, a quick weekend getaway, just us."

A tiny smile curled at the edge of my mouth. I didn't answer right away. I was too busy watching the sunlight cut diamonds across the surface of the water. Too busy wanting to believe this version of me, here in the water, with this good man and his warm plans.

I rested my head against his shoulder. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds… really nice."

"Nice?" he teased, brushing his nose against mine. "I'm out here planning the perfect post-vacation getaway and all I get is nice?"

I laughed, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. "Fine. It sounds ridiculously romantic, and I'm obviously the luckiest girl alive."

He smiled. Not smugly. Just softly, like the idea of me believing that made his whole chest warmer.

So we stayed there, floating in our little world of maybe-someday plans. He kissed me. I kissed him. A rhythm built between us, lazy and sunlit and safe.

And then I felt it, a pair of eyes. Heat. The sting of a gaze I knew like my own reflection.

I didn't turn. I didn't look. But something shifted in the air, like gravity pulled a little harder all of a sudden. Erik didn't notice, he just kept brushing slow circles against my back, whispering something about how I'd have to rate his cooking on a scale from one to ten. I laughed. I kissed him again. I didn't look at Justin.

But god, I felt him.

His stare pressed into my skin like sunlight too long on bare shoulders. But I let it burn. I stayed right where I was floating, warm, kissing someone who made me laugh. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I told myself this is what happiness is supposed to feel like.

Even if it had to be chosen. Over and over again.

The night progressed, eventually we took a break from the pool to have dinner. I tried not to pay too much attention to anyone but Erik, I really wanted to focus on where I could see myself fitting into his life. We sat side by side at the patio table, eating and talking as the others were just as involved in their own conversations.

"My parents are going to love you," he claimed. 

I laughed because he forgets that I very much already knew his parents because of Mallory's ties with them. But I just listened, listened as he talked about his moms traditional cooking or his dads obsession with those tiny boats in bottles. The way his older sisters used to boss him around but he gladly obliged. And then I saw it. Where I would fit in his life. Laughing around the Christmas tree drinking hot cocoa with his sisters who already liked me. Learning how to make food from his culture which was also mine but because my dad wasn't around I was never introduced to it. Hunting for a bottle boat in antique shops for his dads birthday. The quiet nights in the apartment we share, maybe he's cooking, maybe I'm reading but I could see it, all of it. 

And then I caught a glimpse of Justin, with a drink in his hand, watching me with a soft intensity I hadn't seen before. I tried imagining what it would be like fitting into his life and it was… different. The warmth was different. I could see endless nights drinking until night blurred into morning, hours at the gym pretending it was enough, a house that could fit a whole life but maybe never would. I could almost feel the ache of it, the hollow places we'd try to fill with each other and fail. Maybe the sex would still be as hot, maybe hotter, or maybe without the need to sneak around it would cool into something careless. I could see it, it was wild and exhilarating, but different.

I didn't let my stare linger like I would've before, I had to actively choose to look away. I didn't need to be wrapped up in chaos anymore, no matter how much I loved it, no matter how much I'd miss it. I don't need it. Instead I fixed my gaze to Erik whose smile is always effortlessly charming, demanding without trying, warming me in ways I never expected. 

After dinner we lounged around the patio a little longer, someone hooked their phone to a speaker, the playlist was something I didn't know but enjoyed all the same. Allie lit the string of lights that laid along the edge of the lanai. Soft glows wrapped the patio in gold, the kind of light that makes everyone look a little more beautiful, a little less real.

Hunter mentioned a bonfire on the beach. Nancy brought out marshmallows and cheap wine. We wandered down toward the beach, barefoot, bottles in hand, wrapped in that sleepy warmth that only comes from being sun-kissed and slightly drunk.

I stayed close to Erik. His hand found mine again, and I liked the way it felt. Like his girlfriend, the girl who makes sound decisions and was never caught between two fleeting emotions. His hand felt safe, like finding the porch light on after a long night.

And yet, somewhere behind me, just like always, I felt the shift before I saw it.

Justin laughed at something Jacob said, too loud and too fast, like he needed the noise to cover something else. He hadn't looked at me since dinner. But I still felt him. The way you feel the moon pull the tide, even when you're trying to stay dry on shore. His arm was wrapped tightly around Hannah's waist and I couldn't help a little tinge of annoyance. Because I knew I shouldn't be jealous, this shouldn't annoy me. But it did. And I hated him for that. I hated how no matter how wrapped up I was in Erik I would be pulled out of my bubble. By the sound of his voice or the way he tilts his head back while he's laughing. 

I squeezed Erik's hand that was still in mine, willing it to ground me just enough. Hunter and Jacob lit the fire and we all stood around, taking in the warmth, feeling the humid air and listening to the sounds of waves crashing behind us. The bottles of wine were passed around and the more I had the less I felt suffocated by emotions I shouldn't have. 

The fire crackled as it came alive, flames flicking at the night. We spread out in a loose circle around it, sitting on towels and driftwood, tucking into the warmth. The air was heavy with salt, and the stars were bleeding through the dark like secrets waiting to be told.

The conversations weren't loud, just pockets of chatter: Allie and Jacob whisper-laughing about wedding venues. Dani arguing with Nancy over some old work story. Mallory leaning on her palm, sipping from a bottle of rosé like a girl without a care in the world.

And I—I was trying not to look for him.

But the thing about Justin is that you don't really have to look. He's a presence. A temperature change. A frequency only I can hear.

He sat across the fire, beside Hannah, but not really with her. She was draped against him like a claim, her laugh a little too bright, her hand resting high on his thigh. And still he didn't look at me.

Which, somehow, felt worse.

He laughed at something Jacob said, leaned back on his hands like he didn't have a care in the world. But I could see it. The way his jaw ticked when Erik shifted closer to me. The way his drink sat untouched in the sand.

The pull between us hadn't gone anywhere. It was just hiding. Like embers under ash, waiting.

I tried to tune it out. Focused on Erik's arm brushing mine, on the heat of the fire, on the soft roll of waves. I laughed when I was supposed to. I drank when I wasn't sure what else to do. I watched the flames dance like they could hypnotize me out of wanting something that never made sense.

Someone threw more wood on the fire. Sparks flew upward, catching the night like fireflies.

And for a moment, it all felt suspended. Perfect and painful. Like the edge of something ending or maybe just about to begin.

The fire crackled on, casting long shadows over the sand. Laughter bounced between driftwood logs and tilted wine bottles, but Erik's focus was all on me. He was sitting close, knees brushing, one arm braced behind me. Every now and then, he'd glance at my wrapped ankle with this gentle mix of guilt and affection, like he blamed himself for gravity.

"You warm enough?" he asked, already adjusting the corner of the blanket over my lap.

"I'm fine," I said, softening. "Not like I'm doing much moving."

His grin tilted, crooked and disarming. "That's kind of the point. You're supposed to relax."

I tilted my head, watching him. "You're making that awfully hard."

That earned me a raised brow. "Oh? Am I that charming?"

"Infuriatingly so," I teased, nudging his leg with mine. "But in a very safe, tax-paying, future-having way."

He laughed, then leaned in, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret. "Speaking of the future… I was gonna wait until we got home to tell you, but Mallory convinced me that surprises are better when you're tipsy and trapped."

My eyebrows lifted. "That sounds promising and mildly terrifying."

"I had your stuff moved into the apartment from her parents house," he said. "All of it. Mallory helped coordinate with the movers back at home."

I blinked. "Wait. You what?"

"It's all there," he said, smiling like he couldn't help himself. "Your books. Your clothes. Even the weird mug collection I promised not to judge."

I stared at him, the wine bottle forgotten in my hand. "You… you moved me in?"

"I know you still want your own room," he added quickly. "And that's still the plan. You don't have to give that up. I just thought you've had enough to carry lately. Let us carry this."

My heart climbed into my throat and just stayed there. For a long, quiet moment, all I could do was look at him, the firelight dancing in his eyes, his expression so open and sure.

"You're unreal," I whispered, tears threatening to form.

He bumped my shoulder with his. "No, just a guy with a spare key and an unhealthy attachment to making your life easier."

I laughed and maybe, for a breath, I did forget the ache pulling at the edges of everything. Maybe, for a second, I let myself believe in safe things.

And I didn't mean to throw myself at him.

Okay—maybe a little. But the warmth in my chest had nowhere else to go. It bubbled over, uncontainable, and I shifted my weight, draped myself across Erik's lap, arms wrapped around his neck. He caught me without hesitation, laughing into my hair like he'd been waiting for me to do just that. I felt him kiss the side of my head, felt his breath there, and for once I didn't overthink it.

"You're ridiculous," I murmured, smiling against his skin.

"Ridiculously prepared," he countered, and I could hear the smug grin in his voice. "Now you don't have to stress when we get back. You'll walk into a home that's already yours."

I leaned back just enough to look at him. "You really thought of everything."

"I tried," he said, voice soft. "Mallory helped."

I twisted in his arms just enough to catch her across the firelight. She was sitting beside Dani, leaning into her lazily with the bottle wrapped around her hand. 

"Hey, Mals?" I called.

She looked over, eyebrows raised.

"Thank you," I said, loud enough for only some of the group to catch it, but with all the sincerity I could press into two words.

Her grin cracked open. "Always."

A few people glanced between us, curious but unbothered. No one asked. No one needed to.

But I felt the air shift. Again. A pocket of silence folded itself into the group, cool and quiet and sharp. Right where Justin sat.

Then—

"Pool!" Hunter declared, pushing to his feet and brushing sand from his shorts. "Bonfire's getting too warm. Someone do a cannonball."

The group stirred, a wave of energy pulling us back toward the backyard. Erik stood easily, lifting me with him like I weighed nothing. I didn't protest. I just let him carry me, wrapped in his arms like a thing he didn't mind holding onto for a while.

He kissed the side of my face, whispered, "I told you I would move mountains to make you smile and make you happy."

And I was. I really was.

But still, behind us, someone wasn't. And I didn't have to look to know who. But for once I didn't worry. Erik deserved my undivided attention, he earned my undivided attention, not just because of his surprise but because he's consistent. He's never afraid to show me how he feels or never afraid of feeling in general. And I needed that, I deserved that. So I pushed the knot that stayed in my throat as far down as it would go, and clung to this moment between us. 

Erik gently set me down at the edge of the pool, walking in the pool first and patiently waiting for me to follow. I limped down the first step before I felt his arms wrap around my thighs and lift me into the pool. I laughed louder than I had all day and I could feel his chest rumbling the same. He set me down gently, the water pooled around me, cool on my sun-kissed skin. The backyard glowed like something out of a dream. The pool shimmered with soft reflections from the string lights above, casting gentle ripples of gold across the water. 

I heard laughter surrounding me but I wasn't paying anything no mind, my focus stayed on Erik, and his warmth. He took my hand and we walked further into the pool, all the way to the edge where the deep end starts. I felt his arm wrap around my waist, pulling me closer but I didn't fight it, instead I embraced it. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs instinctively followed, curling around his waist. He smiled, then leaned in to kiss me like earlier, but slower this time, like we had all the time in the world. 

All around us, the group splintered off into smaller clusters. Nancy and Allie were dangling their legs in the shallow end. Jacob swan-dived into the deep end with a ridiculous splash. Dani was perched on Marshall's lap, drinking wine from the bottle, and laughing like they were sharing secrets. And for just a second I caught a glimpse of Justin across the pool, laughing at something Hunter said, but it didn't reach his eyes. Hannah tucked against Justin's side like she belonged there, her hand sliding across his chest in a way that seemed performative. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the quiet resentment I felt towards Justin for ignoring my existence. But there was something too practiced in the way she leaned into him, too loud in the way she laughed. 

Erik's hand rested on the small dip of my back, anchoring me again. "How's your ankle?" His voice was a low hum against my ear.

I nodded. "It's okay honestly, just feeling sore."

I leaned into Erik's touch, letting my head rest easy on his shoulder as he pulled me closer into him. We stayed like that until I shifted my head to look at him. I studied his face, the way his thick eyebrows were somehow perfectly sculpted yet messy enough to tell me he didn't get them done. The corners of his lips curved into a natural pout—not moody, just soft, like he was always halfway to saying something kind. I loved how his nose crinkled when he smiled and laughed at the same time, like he couldn't hold it all in. His jaw stayed flexed, not in a try-hard way, but like it didn't know how to be anything else, but sharp and steady, like him.

Up close, I noticed the faintest freckle just beneath his left eye, like a secret the sun had left behind. His skin smelled like sunscreen and the ocean, warm and familiar, and when I pressed my palm to his chest, I could feel his heart beating steady beneath it. It was slow, calm. Unlike mine.

Whatever happened with Justin was fun and I wouldn't take it back. But with Erik, it feels real. Like the world's slowing down around me just so I can keep up. Like a future that's so close I can almost taste it. Safety, for once, didn't feel like something I had to earn. Erik held on tight. I let him. I wasn't letting go anytime soon. I was so wrapped up I hadn't even noticed the group had thinned out. Someone turned the music down. The buzz of laughter dimmed, folding into the kind of silence that meant everyone was realizing how late it had gotten. Even the pool shimmered less like a dream and more like a puddle of leftover light. Slowly but surely everyone started going their separate ways, either back to the patio or to the other rental. 

Erik helped me out of the pool, wrapping a dry towel around me. "I'm gonna help Marshall pick some stuff up, wanna wait for me in the kitchen so I can help you up to your room?" 

I shifted my weight on to my bad ankle and the pain wasn't as sharp. "I'll be okay going up alone, besides I want to get out of these wet clothes as soon as I can."

He gently rubbed my arm and placed a soft kiss on my temple. "Okay. I'll be up there soon." He walked away and toward Marshall who was attempting to move the patio table, he jumped right in without hesitation. I headed for the back door, passing the kitchen, the living room and started making my way to the stairs.

The hallway was quiet, dimly lit, nightlight filtering in through open windows, the scent of salt clinging to everything. I moved slowly, carefully, ankle still tender but my heart steadier than it had been in hours. But the minute I made it to the top of the stairs I heard it. The familiar rhythm of a bed moving, the headboard hitting the wall, the creeks of each thrust. And then I heard a moan. High-pitched. Deliberate.

I froze.

Then another, louder this time, sharp and echoing off the thin walls. It didn't sound natural. It didn't sound real.

Hannah.

Her voice again, drawn out like a bad imitation of a porn scene. Overacted. Loud enough to be heard.

And then, faintly beneath it was his voice. Lower. Rough. Familiar in a way that scraped through me like sandpaper. The way I memorized each noise he made turned something in my stomach. 

I didn't mean to freeze. But I did. The sound of Hannah's moans pushed past the walls and straight into my chest like a slow, sick punch. Too deliberate. Too loud. A performance, made for me.

And I hated that it worked.

I stood there in the hall, towel clutched to my chest, every nerve in my body flaring to life. I heard one last grunt from Justin and that's when something in me cracked. I slammed the bedroom door behind me. Hard. Not subtle, not careful. I wanted him to know I heard. I wanted the echo of it to rattle through the floorboards and into whatever little cocoon they'd built.

 Let him wonder. Let him feel it. Let them hear it. Let him know exactly what I'd just heard, exactly what I now know.

I didn't bother locking the door. I didn't change. I didn't crawl into bed or wipe my face or pretend like I was okay. I just sat. Right there, on the floor beside the bed, legs folded to the side and arms draped over my knees. Like maybe if I curled small enough, I could disappear into the night. The cold hardwood pressed against the skin of my thigh, the same spot where Justin's hand had once rested, soft and reverent, on a night that felt oceans away now. I let my head tip back against the edge of the mattress, blinking up at the ceiling like it might offer answers. But all I got was silence.

The silence buzzed louder than any voice. And in it, I heard his laugh.

Justin's laugh.

The first night. Justin and I passing a bottle of vodka back and forth like we were trying to chase down something real. He'd made me laugh. Really laugh. The kind that warmed me from the inside and made me forget, just for a moment, that my whole life was in pieces. We sat just like this. On the floor. Our shoulders bumping. His laugh had been soft. Unpracticed. Like he didn't know he still had one in him. I remember thinking he looked younger that way. Human. His eyes crinkled when I said something stupid and brave. That night I felt seen. Not for who I should be, not for who I was trying to be, but for the raw, restless version of myself I was still getting to know.

I hadn't meant to remember that. I didn't want to remember that.

Now, he just looked like a stranger across a wall. And I hated that I still wanted to find him in the sound of a memory.

A knock shattered through the door.

I flinched.

"August?" Erik's voice came low. Careful.

I scrambled to wipe my face, though I wasn't even sure if I'd cried. My chest felt too tight to tell.

"Yeah?" My voice came out thin.

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated, then glanced at the knob. "It's open."

The door creaked softly. He stepped in, then stopped when he saw me sitting on the floor.

"You okay?" His brows pinched together with concern as he crossed the room. "What happened?"

I forced a smile, a little too wide and too late. "My ankle. Just... flared up worse than I thought."

He crouched beside me instantly. "Why didn't you call for me?"

"I didn't want to be a bother." I shrugged, staring at a spot on the wall. "Didn't want to pull you away."

He didn't answer at first. Just looked at me like he could see past the lie, but wasn't ready to challenge it. Not yet. Instead, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're not a bother. Ever."

I let out a soft breath and leaned into his touch, willing my heart to stop chasing things that never stayed. His voice barely cut through the fog in my head, but it grounded me anyway.

I realized then how cold I was. Still damp from the pool, still in my swimsuit, the air conditioning prickling against my skin now that the wine had worn off and the noise was gone.

Erik's brow furrowed. "You're freezing."

He stood before I could respond, already grabbing a towel from the bathroom. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes. I'll give you some space, I'll just go change and come back, okay?"

I nodded, grateful and relieved. I wasn't ready to fall apart in front of anyone. Not yet.

He wrapped the towel around my shoulders with careful hands, and his eyes held mine for a beat longer than I expected. "You'll be okay for a bit?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "I'm good."

"Okay." He squeezed my shoulder, then backed away toward the door. "I'll be right back."

The door clicked shut behind him.

And I was alone.

Still sitting on the floor, towels draped around me like it might hold me together. I hadn't moved. My swimsuit clung to me like a second skin, cold and suffocating, and I let my head fall back against the edge of the bed one more time. Trying to forget the sounds of her breaths escaping her, or the way he grunted. Begging them away, but nothing was working. 

I stood slowly, peeling off the wet fabric with a wince as my ankle throbbed. I limped over to my suitcase, grabbing some underwear, an oversized shirt, and some cotton pajama shorts. I towel-dried my hair half-heartedly and sank onto the bed and into the sheets. 

The ache had just begun to spread again when the door opened. Erik stepped back inside, changed into dry clothes, softer now. His smile was faint but genuine when he saw me tucked beneath the blanket.

"Hey, I'm back, care for some company? I brought an ice pack, some water and advil." His voice had a tinge of concern but I knew he wouldn't press for more. 

"I want company, I don't want to be alone." I let the words out, barely above a whisper.

He shut the door behind him, and took a few strides to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and lifted the blanket off of me, enough to expose my ankle. He quietly pressed the ice pack to my ankle. I let out a small wince…playing the part of someone with a hurt ankle and not a hurt heart. I took a deep breath and let him continue taking care of me. 

"Thank you," I whispered as he handed me two pills from the bottle. I tossed them into my mouth and took a drink from the glass of water he brought. 

 He lifted the ice pack off of my ankle and inspected it closely. "Your ankle isn't looking too swollen so that's a good thing, are you planning on packing tomorrow or the day we leave? Maybe I can help you so you don't have to stand too much on it."

"I'm thinking about starting tomorrow but Mallory already offered to help, thank you though." I smiled softly, he watched me closely and shifted slightly on the bed, leaning closer to me. "We should probably get to bed soon though, I have to be up early for the tattoo appointment tomorrow. Still thinking of getting that hibiscus flower?" I let out a small laugh, trying to hide my discomfort. 

His smile widened, and he let out a laugh. "Yeah I think so, if they can fit me into their schedule." He paused for a moment, a small smile landing on his lips. "I can start heading out, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He stood from the bed, and stretched slightly. But I didn't want him to go, I didn't want to live in this ache Justin created. I wanted to feel grounded, and not lonely. 

"No…stay please?" My voice cracked down the middle. I didn't even try to fix it. He caught on, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

"Guess it's a good thing I decided to come in my pajamas." His smile was soft, easy. He looked down at his t-shirt and joggers like they were some kind of accidental blessing.

He walked over and flipped the switch on the ceiling fan light. I leaned over and clicked on the lamp beside the bed, bathing the room in a dim golden hush.

I gently patted the open space beside me, and without skipping a beat, he slipped under the covers. While I scooted over to make room.

We lay there in silence, not touching, but close enough that our legs brushed under the sheets. He didn't pull me closer.

I turned to look at him.

He turned too.

Our eyes met, held and still, we said nothing. Still, we didn't move.

Finally words started forming in my mouth and I did nothing to stop them from coming out. "I can't believe the trip is basically over. I'm terrified of what comes next."

"I'm not. I'm excited for what comes next." The way he said it tore something in me, he was so sure of himself, so sure of us, without a hint of doubt. And here I was feeling sorry for myself because someone who wasn't mine was moving on while I had someone so eager to be with me. I should be doing the same. I should be excited for what's next, for what we're bound to build, for what I deserve with him. 

I felt his arm shift under the covers, and seconds later I felt his hand slowly glide on my waist, finally pulling me in. I let him. I wanted to make myself at home here in his arms. I wanted to forget every longing glance, every stolen moment, every night I shared with Justin in this bed.