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His face is blank once again. “Smartass,” he comments. I smile and look back out at the water. Looks like we finally broke the seal because not even fifteen seconds go by before he starts talking again. “Can I ask you something?” he says hesitantly - not shyly, but hesitantly, like he won’t like the answer.

I nonchalantly raise and drop a shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “Sure.” The sun feels so good on my bare skin. I discard my life jacket on the table next to me and catch Casper watching my movements.

“How come your husband doesn’t come with you? That was him, right? At the gym?”

So, hedidrecognize me.

“Wait, you knew it was me, but you didn’t say anything? How come?”

“You answer me, first.”

If he’s willing to play a little give and take with the questions, I’m on board for that.

“Okay, well, first of all, he isn’t my husband. We’re supposedly engaged, but I’m starting to doubt that there will actually be a wedding. Right now, he’s married to his job.” Why in the hell did I just say that?

Because you want him to know you can be single if he’s interested.

Oh, hello, Cold Hard Truth.

“And second of all, I tried to invite him, but he’s always too busy. He was supposed to come with me the first time but he cancelled. It’s not really his thing anyway, so I just figured I wouldn’t ask again.”

Casper stays quiet as he thinks about my words.

“Your turn. Why didn’t you say anything to me at the gym?”

When he turns to look at me, the intensity in his eyes is so powerful I have to grip the table to steady myself. “Because I don’t do friends. I keep to myself and I’d hate to give you the wrong idea by being overly friendly.”

“Well, you certainly don’t have to worry aboutthat. When you’re in constant dick-mode, it makes your opinion on befriending me pretty clear. Why are you so hellbent on being alone?” I snap, annoyed that he’s shutting down just as we start to have a real conversation.

“Why are you so adamant that I shouldn’t be?” he fires back, ignoring the fact that I’ve basically called him both a dick and an asshole in the last five minutes.

“Because no one should suffer, or thrive, alone. Victories and struggles are always better when there are two to share the load.” I honestly don’t know where that came from but it seemed like the right thing to say. Casper seems heavily burdened by something that he clearly bears the weight of on his own.

His next words feel like a slap across my face. “If that’s true, then maybe you should reevaluate who you’ve chosen as your life partner since he doesn’t seem to want to share himself with you.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Even if Casper is right, how darehejudge Will and I? Our relationship might be failing, but at least we tried.

He moves to get off the picnic table when I grab his forearm and I swear he stops breathing.

When he turns his head, his eyes find where my hand is connected to his forearm first and then he raises his gaze to meet mine. “I haven’t suffered enough, and I don’t deserve to thrive whether or not someone is by my side. Our lesson is over.”

Yanking his arm out of my grip, he grabs his kite and stalks toward the hut.

Eight

I SIT ON THIS PICNIC table for another half an hour, stunned at Casper’s harsh words about himself and wondering what in the hell they mean. He hasn’t suffered enough? I don’t need to be a psychologist to realize that he blames himself for something, but I doubt I’ll ever find out what it is.

I wish Johanna were here so that I could run this by her even though she’s as clueless about Casper as I am.

Frustratingly, I seem incapable of freeing my mind of him so instead of wasting time trying to do the impossible, I grab my phone out of my bag and check my messages. Only one and it’s from Will. Shocker - he went into the office. He’ll be home around four.

All caught up on my Dutch homework, paperwork all filled out for my volunteer spot at the cultural center, and none of the girls available to hang out until tomorrow, I toss my phone back in my bag and grab my wallet.

“Hey Jörn, can I get a beer out of the fridge?” I call as I walk to a small stand adjacent to the hut that has a mini fridge, a small snack bar, and stuff like sunscreen and headbands for sale. I earned that drink today.

“Sure, Lib!”

I go to pay him the $3 for the Amstel Light, but he waves my cash away. “I heard you had an incredible ride on the open water. That one’s on the house as a celebration.”

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