Page 77 of Broken Hearts

He leans in and kisses me sweetly, and I have no idea what he has planned, but I do know I want to tell him I’m staying. That this thing between us is real, and that I can’t imagine my life without him.

Nate climbs out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt and some boardshorts, and before I know it, he’s on his way, needing to make it to his appointment. I love that he’s found an outlet for his art, designing custom boards with Tanner is something that fits with Nate, and something I’m sure my dad would have been proud of.

I quickly text my dad’s lawyer, hoping I have enough time to meet with him before I have to meet up with Nate.

Ten minutes later, I’m pulling up outside the lawyer’s office, even though he told me he’d come to me. It’s easier this way, no one to notice him at the house since selling The Pipe Dream seems to be on everyone’s minds. I don’t want anyone jumping to conclusions about me meeting with the lawyer and eventually I’m going to have to tell the developer that is hounding me my intentions too.

My dad’s lawyer is exactly as expected, tanned and wearing a floral print button-down shirt with a pair of boardshorts. It couldn’t be more cliché, and I try not to smile when I see him sitting behind a desk, a surfboard propped up in the corner behind him.

“You must be Sage,” he says, standing up to greet me. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Your father spoke about you often.”

“That’s nice to hear. It’s good to meet you.”

He lets out a sigh, motioning for me to sit down across from him. Smiling, he pulls a file from his desk and begins flipping through it.

“This shouldn’t take long. As I’m sure you know, The Pipe Dream sits on a large plot of land that is worth, well…” Stopping, he begins thumbing through the papers. “At last assessment it was near ten million, and I’m not here to give advice or even offer it. I’m just here to share with you a letter your father gave me, and to let you know that you are a fifty percent owner of The Pipe Dream.”

“Fifty?” I quickly question, my brows furrowed at this.

“Yes, fifty. The other owner is Nathan Peterson. You may know him. He works for your dad?—”

I cut him off quickly, nodding my head, a smile spreading across my face at this news. “Yes, I know him, and I have to say, I’m surprised, but I’m also really excited to tell him. He doesn’t know, right?”

“He doesn’t. I wanted to speak with you before sharing anything with Nathan since you are the next of kin.”

“Would it be okay if I told him?” I ask, not sure how any of this legal stuff works. “We’ve grown close since I’ve been here.” This man doesn’t need to know exactly how close, but it’s definitely the truth.

“Sure, but he’ll still need to come by and see me to sign a few things,” Mike says, and I nod as he slides a few papers across the table to me.

Most of the stuff I sign is transferring my name onto the business, and it’s surprisingly simple. Mike explains everything as we go, letting me know I can come to him with any questions or give him a call if I need anything.

“I know you don’t live in the area, so…” he starts, but trails off a little, his question hanging between us, and really, he’s going to be the first person I admit this to, even if my mom already knows. She figured it out on her own.

“I’m planning to stay, and I have no intention of selling The Pipe Dream,” I admit, and I see Mike’s shoulders visibly relax as he lets out a hard sigh.

“Well, thank god, that has been weighing heavy on me ever since Mitch’s passing. It’s an icon around here, and I really would hate to see it sold to the highest bidder.”

“It’s never going to happen.” I say this with such certainty, knowing my father would be proud that I’ve decided to carry on his legacy, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Once Nathan comes by and we finalize everything, I’ll be in touch to iron out any small details,” Mike says, the conversation more relaxed than it was when I first walked in here. “Oh, and here, I have this for you too.”

He hands me an envelope with my name written on the front, a little hand-drawn hibiscus next to my name, and I immediately recognize the handwriting. Running my fingers over it, I feel the sting of tears burn my nose.

“I have no idea when he wrote this, but it was in with all his paperwork regarding the shop,” Mike says, holding out a box of tissues for me as the tears begin to spill over. “And if you wouldn’t mind, there’s this one too.”

He hands me another envelope, this time with Nate’s name written across the front, and next to it is a surfboard sketched out. Jesus, if I thought I was struggling when he handed me my letter, it’s nothing in comparison to when he hands me Nate’s. And to add to it all, he hands me a third one, this one with Alana’s name on it. Hers is sketched with a little shaka and a heart.

“Can you get this one to Alana Hale too?” he asks, and all I can do is nod, wanting to tell him how much both Nate and Alana mean to me now, but the words just don’t come.

The tears are now flowing freely, and I blot at them with the already soaked tissue. It’s doing nothing to help, and I give up, letting the tears fall from my eyes, cathartic and needed.

I have no idea what either of these letters say, but I know Nate and I are going to need each other when we do read them.

I swipe my hands under my eyes, taking in a cleansing breath. I look up at Mike, who has been waiting patiently for me to stop blubbering.

“If you need anything, let me know,” he says, smiling as he stands. “I’m here. Have Nathan get in touch with me once you’ve shared the news with him, and we’ll get everything sorted out and official.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

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