Page 65 of Diving In

True happiness.

I knew I’d experienced it before, most definitely with Fletcher. But sitting here now, it was clear that what Ian and I had wasn’t true happiness. And a relationship like this, no matter how planned out it already was, was absolutely something that I could never live with.

I deserved more. I deserved happiness. I deserved to be loved.

“We both deserve a love that lights our souls on fire. One that gets better with each day. A kind of love that they write about in books. One that consumes all that you are. A love that burns with so much passion you’d die before wanting to be with someone else. That’s the kind of love that I want. The kind of love that Ineed.”

“You’re beyond delusional,” Ian said, his tone becoming hostile. “I don’t know what’s in the water on that island, but you’ve fucking lost it. You can’t actually give up on our relationship. You’re ridiculous to think you’ll ever find someone as good as me. You would’ve been set for life as a Russo—”

Offended, I stepped in. “Fuck your last name. That’s your problem. Your arrogance and egotistical mentality cloud your judgment because—”

“The most pathetic part,” he cut me off, “is that you think there is a goddamn fairy tale love story waiting for you, but that shit doesn’t exist. It’s not real. While you’re out lollygagging around, looking for Prince fucking Charming, I’m going to be snagging the next Mrs. Russo.”

His words cut deep, but I reminded myself that he’d been hurt. That I’d hurt him.

“I’m sorry, Ian,” I whispered, tears swelling in my eyes. But he’d already turned away, headed in the other direction.

My whole body went numb, overcome with emotion. I felt like I had lost control of my arms and legs. A part of me was sad that things ended like that with Ian. He’d been such a big part of my life, especially my life in New York. A part of me was angry with how he’d treated me, even though I couldn’t blame him. A part of me was overcome with relief. Mostly though, the anxiety won out, suffocating me. I’d planned out my entire life, and yet here I was, sitting in an airport with absolutely no fucking clue what I was going to do next. That alone could’ve debilitated me.

A little less than seventy-two hours ago, my life was right on track. I was working a decent job, I had a boyfriend who was ready to propose whenever I gave him the go ahead, and I lived in a city that most people dreamt about, so all around, it was good.

The life that I had created was comfortable, predictable, and allowed for absolutely no surprises, just how I’d liked it.

Unfortunately though, I had begun to realize that everything about me was comfortable, honestly maybe a littletoo comfortable.The number of surprises I’d endured since being back on Sullivan’s Island normally would’ve wrecked me, and while they’ve definitely taken a toll, I’d found myself admiring the freedom of it all. Not once had I opened my calendar or looked at my planner to see what the day would hold, scheduling out by the hour.

Each day, as scary as it’d been, had held something new, something fresh and completely out of my comfort zone.

I reached into my purse, madly searching for my phone, desperate to call Ivy. My hands fumbled through all my shit until I finally found it. I yanked my phone from the bag, only to realize something had gotten tangled around it. Confused, I worked through the knot, my fingers gripping the black lava stone beads. I paused just as I reached the end, lingering there for a second before I felt the sting of the cold silver plate in my palm.

How was this in my bag?Whywas this in my bag?

I traced the bracelet I had spotted on Cal the first day we met when he was driving me to Jack’s. The one that hung so casually against his wrist as his hand was propped up on the steering wheel. I felt the indent of the initials that decorated the silver plate: BJW.

I hesitated as I brushed the engraving. My mind raced back to the moment that I’d thought I had him all figured out. When I’d so confidently assumed the letters were Blair’s initials. I’d jumped to the conclusion that he’d hurt me simply because of all the times I’d been hurt before.

And then Cal had steadily informed me that these initials did not actually belong to Blair.

But if not Blair, then who?

Who in the fuck meant enough to Cal for him to be sporting their name on his wrist? And why did he want me to have the bracelet?

As I sat in this harder-than-usual airport chair on my thirtieth birthday, I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d gotten here. How drastically things had changed in such a short amount of time.

Now, as I stared out these enormous glass windows, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the little feeling that had been lingering in the shadows, the one that said maybe I shouldn’t get on that plane. Sitting here, the thought of leaving this place didn’t sound so great after all.

Since landing here on this island, I’d discovered so much about myself, parts that had been held captive since the day I left.

In the past, this island brought hurt, unbearable pain, and memories I wanted to forget forever. But now, it had shown me the importance of remembering those memories. How allowing them in could give me a chance to fully heal.

This island had revealed the importance of family, no matter the circumstances. But more than anything, it gave me a glimpse of what love could feel like. Not the planned-out love that I had shared with Ian. No, the kind of love that ignited a fire inside your bones, sending warm winds blowing around in the pit of your belly. The kind of love that gave you permanent chills over every inch of your body.

The kind of love that I wasn’t sure existed until now.

I’d spent only a few days with Cal, but that was all I needed. He’d been kind and passionate, calm but spontaneous. He’d pushed me to step out of my comfort zone without me even realizing that was what I was doing, but he was also right there next to me if and when I decided I didn’t want to go any further.

And to top it all off, he’d made love like no man I’d ever known, leaving me craving more the second he walked out the door. He was a man I’d only dreamed about, a man I was convinced didn’t actually exist.

Not to mention, it was obvious that he’d had a hand in taking care of Beau since both Fletcher and Jack had been gone. That was easy to see with just one interaction between the two of them. The day at our old house, the conversation that I’d overheard, it was obvious the two of them were close, which made a lot more sense now that I knew Cal had been a bigger part of Fletcher’s life than I had previously assumed.

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