Page 95 of Fated

He reaches up, dragging his fingers across my cheek. “I’d ask why now,” he says, “but I can’t. I feel it too. It feels different. It feels like a rip current pulling me along—I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. I used to want you to be happy. Now I want to be happy with you.”

I swallow down the fluttering in my throat, the fear mixed with longing. I close my eyes, turn my mouth into his palm, and press a kiss to his warm skin.

He lets out a harsh exhale. “I’m afraid this isn’t real.”

It’s not,I want to tell him.It’s not real.

But I can’t. Because it feels real.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up and you won’t be you anymore, you’ll be ...” He shrugs. “Becca. You’ll be the Becca I’ve always known.”

“We could live in the moment,” I say. “And if it ends, we can savor the ending.”

He smiles at me then, a bittersweet smile, and pulls his hand from my cheek. “All right. Fair enough.”

He scoots his chair closer to mine, scraping it over the gravel. Our shoulders touch as we dip our heads together and debate the menu options. When Sue takes our order, though, we find there are no options. It’s mango salad, grilled snapper, and coconut rum cake for dinner.

She sets the plates in front of us, filling the table with food. The snapper is charred and flaky, and I refuse to think about the fish market or the fact this snapper may be the one I gutted. Instead I take in the scent of ripe mango, charcoal, and lime. Sue sets two glasses in front of us filled with rum, simple syrup, and freshly squeezed lime.

“Bon appétit,” she says, smiling at me with motherly approval. “I expect you to clean your plates, or there’s no dessert for you.”

I hold back a laugh.

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron says, laughter in his eyes.

She bustles back into the restaurant. There’s the splashing of water, the clatter of dishes, and then, over the sound, the soft tones of Sue humming a tuneless melody.

After a moment of contemplation, hunger gets the better of me and I decide to dive in. I stick a forkful of the snapper in my mouth. It’s flaky, delicate, and sweet. There’s a mild nutty flavor that blends perfectly with the mango chili sauce Sue prepared. The snapper is pink and firm and delicious.

Aaron glances at me when I give a soft, appreciative moan. He holds still, watching me with a quick hunger.

“Good?” he finally asks, his voice rough.

I nod, swallowing a bite of mango. “Better than good.”

He watches me take another bite, a fire growing in his eyes. I think about leaning forward and kissing him, tasting the soft flavor of mango and lime on his lips.

“Tell me,” he says. “Last night we pretended you didn’t know me. Tonight, tell me something about you that I don’t know. Pretend we’ve never met.”

“Like a first date?”

He nods, his gaze steady.

The sky is dark now. A cool evening breeze shifts over me, dragging strands of hair across my neck and bare shoulders. I can almost hear the waves, rising and falling, building, maybe, to a storm.

Inside Sue hums. Outside the crickets sing.

I think about what to tell Aaron. Something about me that he doesn’t know.

But there’s so much he doesn’t know. So much I could tell him.

“I don’t want to stop with one thing,” I say. “So I’ll tell you it all. If you want to know?”

The side of his mouth kicks up in a smile. “Of course I do.”

I take a drink, the sugary lime tart and sweet. “All right. The first thing you should know is I love being a mom. I love it more than anything in the world.”

He tilts his head, his eyes drinking me in. “You do?”

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