don't head to the beach right away. My stomach is twisted with so many knots that I have to head home first, where I lock myself in my bedroom and replay our conversation over and over in my head. I'd tried so hard to bottle up my feelings to avoid an argument, but we ended up arguing anyway.

On the bedside table is a picture of my parents, happy and smiling. I wonder if Dad would choose to do it all again if he'd known what would happen, what their life together would lead to. Sometimes I wish I had a crystal ball, and I could foresee what situations would cause the most pain and stop putting myself in them.

When I'm finished with moping, I redo my makeup. I'm hoping – praying – that Jordan will be at the beach. I hate how we've left things, hate how tonight is the last night we have before everything potentially changes. If we haven't raised enough he'll be heading back to Chicago, and whatever this is will be another mental photograph in an already crowded album; I can't stand the thought of us leaving things like this. With my makeup done, I change into a different white dress, this one with a little more cleavage. If everything is going to change tomorrow, I want to go all out tonight.

The ride to the beach helps to calm me. I've always loved the island at dusk. The sky turns a dark hazy blue, and while the air is still warm, there's a gentle breeze that comforts me. The streets are relatively empty, the sound of crickets filling the air, and there's this second where I close my eyes and pedal faster, able to navigate these roads blind.

I wonder if I'll ever know another place as well as I know this island. Whether I'll close my eyes and be able to picture every building and turn clear as day. Probably not, but in a way it is comforting to know that this island will always have my heart, even when I'm gone.

As soon as I pull up to the beach, I tense. It's a shock to the system to see so many people gathered on a once deserted stretch of sand, but then I take in the fairy lights, the candle-lit walkway leading to a gazebo where people are dancing, and the tension eases away. This is how it should always have been, people coming together and enjoying what my mother and I have always enjoyed here: peace. Freedom. Togetherness.

Lexi spots me across the beach and lets go of Elliot's hand before making her way over. "You're finally here," she says, pulling me into a hug. "Were my clues too hard for you or something?"

I smile and say, "No, I just wanted to stop at home first."

She takes in my outfit, nodding in approval. "You look beautiful. Where's lover boy?"

My heart squeezes. I feign a casual shrug. "No idea. We kind of had a fight."

Her eyes soften. She doesn't ask what happened, because I'm certain she already has a pretty good idea. Instead, she pulls me over to Lina and the others, where we toast to an eventful night.

As I'm sipping at my drink, I take a moment to scan the guests. Most of those here are familiar faces, locals from all over the island, with only a tourist or two thrown in. Lexi was right, her questions were specific enough that the only ones who made it here were the ones who should have.

I'm busy scanning the rest of the crowd when I freeze. To my absolute surprise – and horror – Ryan is standing by the buffet next to Teddy. His hands are in his pockets, and Teddy is busy saying something, but Ryan is barely evening listening. Instead, he's looking right at me. I can't read the expression on his face. Or I can, I just don't understand it. He's looking at me with this look of regret, like he wishes he could take it all back.

It takes a couple of minutes before he gathers up the courage to walk over. I think about running in the opposite direction, but my feet feel frozen to the spot. Panicked, I put down my drink on the nearest table and search for someone to dart toward.

"Hey," he says softly. "You want to dance?"

Too late. "Hey. Um, sure."

Without much of a choice, I let him hook an arm around my waist and draw me in, the way we've done so many times before. But what once felt safe, comforting, feels so foreign and unfamiliar now, as if it's never felt anything else. It's strange how that can happen, how quickly we adapt to change. I'd thought I'd never get over Ryan, that I was destined to be alone; now I can't remember why were ever together.

Still, there's the tiniest part of me still stuck in the past, because my heart does this quick, fleeting glip. I focus on his eyes, trying not to think about how good he looks with his new tan. "Thought you were busy traveling."

"I was," he says, smiling slightly. "I came back early."

"So when you said you were leaving me to travel, what you really meant was you were leaving me to go on holiday."

"I thought I'd be gone longer," he admits, "but either way, the leaving you part was a mistake." He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes take in my dress, then my face, as if he's committing me to memory. "I missed you, Ev."

Hearing him call me Ev is both familiar and unsettling. There was a point after we broke up where I longed to hear those words from him, but standing here, back in his arms on a perfectly romantic night, I realize I don't feel anything.

That's when it hits me that somehow, I've adapted. Moved on. Survived. I guess that's what we do, what humans have been doing for thousands of years. We adapt and we survive, even when it feels impossible.

"Did you–" he pauses like he's afraid of the answer. "Did you miss me?"

I think about lying to make him feel better, but lying won't help either of us. "No, not really." His face falls, and I add, "I mean, I've been pretty distracted lately, what with the Big Fish cafe being sold."

"And with that new guy," he says. "The one from the cafe. You like him, right?"

I freeze in his arms. Just hearing the one from the cafe has the power to make my heart beat twice as fast. "I don't think we should be talking about this."

"There was a time when we could talk about anything."

"There was a time when I thought you wouldn't ditch me, too."

"I didn't ditch you, Evvy. Or at least, I didn't mean to. I just – have you ever been stuck in the house for too long and started to get cabin fever?"

I think back to all the times we'd faced hurricanes and had to stay inside for days with no power and nothing to do but play board games. "Yes."

"Well, that's how staying on this island felt." He takes a deep breath, his expression unusually serious. "Stuck here, surrounded by all this water, it felt like I was drowning, Evvy. I needed to leave, and I thought leaving would ruin our relationship, so I ended things before it could. Then I got to Europe, surrounded by gray concrete buildings, and I realized I'd made a huge mistake. I wanted to be back here on this island, with you."

I open my mouth to speak – to say what, I don't know – but then Jordan steps through the trees, scanning the beach. He's been home, too, and looks handsome in his casual black shirt and jeans. He's caught the sun today, so his skin has this warm, sunkissed glow.

I'm suddenly aware of my every move. My dress that shows a little too much cleavage. My hands around Ryan's neck. His hands around my waist. Even though things are dire between Jordan and me, the thought of him seeing me dancing with Ryan makes my heart start to race. I stiffen slightly, about to pull my arms away, when Jordan looks over. His eyes meet mine, and he stills.

Crap.

❤️