Page 135 of Crushed By Love

“You have a number you can call if you need help, little lady?”

“I do, thank you.”

“Good luck.” He winks and rolls up the tinted window.

I wish luck was enough to get through what I’m about to do. After everything my family has done to Ethan, I’m not even sure if the man loves me anymore.

As I walk up the drive, memories of us return with each step I take.

The first moment I saw Ethan he was swimming and he looked like a god under that water. It was love at first sight for me. Well, maybe not love, but definitely lust. It never mattered to me that he was off-limits. Even when he was an ass to me before he started to change, he still occupied my thoughts. And then he’d tried to teach me how to swim in that pool and the attraction between us was unlike anything I’d experienced in my life. He’d pulled away when he found out I was a virgin, but it wasn’t too much later when he’d been one to take that virginity.

No, not take. I’d given it to him freely.

Staying with him through the hurricane had been the craziest thing I’d ever done, but look where it got me—into his arms and into his heart.

I don’t know for certain if people are made for each other or if fate is real, but I’d like to believe so because how else can I explain our story? Nobody has ever fought for my heart the way he did.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and ring the doorbell.

Camilla answers. She looks the exact same, her curly hair up in a huge bun on top of her head and the same yellow apron tied around her waist. Flour is smudged across her left cheek and her brown eyes widen as she takes me in.

“Hi Camilla—” I start but she doesn’t give me a chance to finish.

“Arden!” She throws her arms around me, squeezing me into her bosom. “My girl, I never thought I’d see you again, but I should’ve known you’d be back. You’re here for Ethan, no? He’s down at the beach.”

She speaks a million miles a minute, her Italian accent coming in thicker than usual, and I peel myself away from her embrace with a tentative smile. “Do you think he’ll want to see me?” my voice wobbles.

She nods emphatically. “He wouldn’t be here moping about if he didn’t want to see you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nantucket means Arden. He told me that the summer after you left. Why would he come back here if he didn’t want to be reminded of you? The boys aren’t here as often as they used to be, I’m just part time help now, but they still talk about you. Especially Ethan.”

I relax. All hope isn’t lost. If he still talks about me, still thinks about me, then maybe he still wants to be with me enough that he can forgive my mistakes. “Thank you.”

She waves me off. “I know what love looks like, believe me, I’ve experienced it myself.” She smiles, her eyes glancing away as a far-off expression transforms her face. “I met the love of my life when I was only eighteen too. Frank was on holiday in my village back in Italy and I was his waitress on his first night there. He asked me out and two weeks later I went back home with him. The rest is history.”

I smile, picturing a young Camilla falling in love. “That’s beautiful.”

“Love always is, even when it’s messy.” She smiles, gaze dreamy and confident. “Anyway, I was just leaving for the day. I’m sure I’ll see you later. Now go.”

I don’t know if she’s making herself scarce for our privacy or if she really is finished with her day, but I leave her on the front steps and head around the side of the house towards the beach. I’m not sure what he’s doing down there, it could be surfing or swimming or just lounging in the sand like I always used to do.

It’s the perfect August day as I round the back of the house, but once I catch sight of the crystalline pool with all its memories, the nerves return.

I hope Camilla is right. Cooper was pretty adamant that Ethan wanted space from me, but I need to hold on to what Camilla said. Ethan wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t want to be reminded of me. I can relate, because everything about this place reminds me of him.

Striding down the worn path, I eye the familiar wind-worn gazebo up ahead. It’s been two years since I last stood in that gazebo looking out at the ocean, two years since Ethan and I ended things the first time. I’ve grown so much in those two years and still have so much growing left to do.

I want to do all of it with Ethan by my side.

The gazebo still has the best view and I use it to search the beach for him. It’s depressingly empty, which might be the first time I’ve been sad to see the beach empty. Where is he?

My eyes catch on a figure out on the horizon, a surfer catching a wave. Even from this far off distance, even with his wetsuit on, I recognize Ethan’s silhouette instantly. His inky hair curls in the wind and his legs flex as he expertly rides the wave toward the shoreline. He finishes beautifully and then paddles back out, arms rotating in that same assured way that first drew me to him. He hasn’t seen me yet. I could turn back now and let him go. I wouldn’t have to face these nerves. I could take the coward’s way out.

But I would regret that for the rest of my life, and I’m done with regret.

Taking a deep breath, I head toward the stairs. They’re still wind-worn, still the same old stairs that I remember. They must not have replaced them after the hurricane, just repaired what needed attention.

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