Page 57 of The Boss's Hideaway Baby

“You can still talk to her. You can?—”

“No, I can’t.” I shake my head. I’m being rough with him, but the thought of facing Maria again and apologizing feels impossible. “She’s moved on, and I have to accept that.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Nathan.” He places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You should at least try.”

“I did her wrong. She doesn’t need a second chance.”

“I was talking about you.”

A second chance for myself?

I shake my head. That’s not possible. I was cruel to Maria, and she deserves to be with a man who treats her like a million bucks from the beginning. Not with someone who has realized his wrongs too late.

“Thanks for looking out for me, man.” I manage a small smile, appreciating his friendship. “But this is just something I have to live with. I’m heading out of town for a few days… need some time to clear my head.”

“All right.” His lips twist, and he looks thoughtful. “Just don’t forget I’m here for you. And if you change your mind about Maria… don’t wait too long. You never know when someone’s going to walk back into your life.”

His words echo in my mind as we part ways, leaving me to ponder the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope for me and Maria. But first, I need to find myself again — and hope that when I do, I’ll be the man she once believed I could be.

I get into my car and drive out of the city. I don’t have a bag packed, don’t have a destination in mind. It’s just me and my tires running rotations on the road, getting further and further away from all that I’ve built and destroyed.

Maybe it’s muscle memory, or maybe it’s instinct, but I end up driving east, to Long Island. And it makes sense. The torment that’s been building inside of me had to come out sooner or later.

The roar of the car engine fades as I pull up to a parking spot near the beach in Montauk. The salty ocean breeze fills my nostrils, reminding me of the times Maria and I spent here. My heart constricts at the thought, but I shake it off. No use dwelling on the past.

“Is this really what you need, Nathan?” I whisper to myself, staring out at the darkness that envelops the shore.

I know going to Maria’s cabin is out of the question. She wouldn’t want me there, and it would be trespassing. But being close to the place where we were happy together seems like the only thing that can bring me a semblance of peace.

“Okay.” I open the door and step out of the car. “Just for tonight.”

I’ll go down to the beach for a while and walk around, and then get a hotel in town. Or sleep in my car. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. I’m here, where I’m meant to be. I don’t have any plans past that.

As I walk towards the shore, the sound of laughter catches my attention. A group of college kids are gathered around a bonfire, their youthful energy almost contagious. As much as I envy them, I choose to sit some distance away, not wanting to intrude on their carefree evening.

“Here’s to nights like these!” a young man cheers, raising a bottle. His friends all echo the sentiment, clinking their drinks together.

“To nights like these,” I murmur under my breath, my gaze shifting from the flickering flames to the moon above. It’s a beautiful sight, and for a moment, I find solace in its peaceful glow.

“Maria.” I sigh, fighting back the wave of regret threatening to drown me. “How did I let you slip away?”

Lost in thought, I barely notice when my eyelids grow heavy. As the rhythmic crash of the waves lulls me into a fitful sleep, I can’t help but wish things were different, that I had known what I had when I had it.

I lie down on the sand, succumbing to the darkness, haunted by memories of what’s lost.

* * *

Seagulls screech overhead, their calls blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. The sun’s warmth kisses my face, gently coaxing me from my slumber.

Blinking against the light, I sit up and brush the sand from my clothes. The bonfire is nothing but smoldering ashes now, a testament to the passage of time. The college kids are gone, leaving me alone on the beach with only my thoughts for company.

I scrub at my face. Damn. I didn’t mean to fall asleep right on the sand. Apparently I was exhausted, though.

I should get up. Get my car started and drive into town.

Or back to Manhattan.

What was I thinking coming out here, anyway? That I would sit on the beach and the solution to all my pain would just fall out of the sky?

---