Page 69 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

The night of my biggest regret. But also, one of my biggest joys. It all mingles together.

And I can’t avoid talking about it anymore.

“Ironically, that was my pathetic attempt to tell you how I felt. I just wanted you to know that there were people out there who loved you. That you didn’t have to put up with someone who made you cry.”

I can still picture it. I’d just moved back to Hallmark Beach not long before that. We hadn’t kept in super close touch while I’d been away—probably because of Donny—but when I found out Marilee’s parents had died, I realized everything that was important to me existed in that tiny town and made plans to return after business school.

So I graduated, moved back, started up Go Round Adventures, and hung around with Marilee as much as I could without disrespecting her marriage and causing a wedge between her and Donny. But the jerk did that all on his own.

“When I started to see how he treated you—the little things he’d say, the way you’d hide yourself away, the fact he was spending all of your money on gambling and other women—I got really concerned. And then, that night, I found you curled on your couch, a shell of the vibrant woman I knew, crying, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to speak up.”

“And I rejected you.” Her eyes go misty. “That night…I’d just miscarried for the first time the week before, Jay. And when I finally told Donny, he laughed it off. Said it would be fine, that we could just have another go round in the sack, make another baby—” Her words cut off and she shudders out a breath.

I want to hold her, but I give her space to speak. To remember. To process.

Her voice is small but strong when she continues. “And when I told him I wasn’t able to…that it might be a while before I could…he got angry. He didn’t touch me, didn’t throw anything, but his eyes went all cold, and he grabbed his keys and said not to wait up for him. Then he went out the front door all calm. And I just knew that he was going somewhere to find someone who could give him what he wanted.”

“That’s so messed up, Lee. He should have held you, should have cried with you, should have reassured you it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” She sniffs. “That was the first time I realized he was probably cheating on me. I mean, there were signs before that, but I always thought—no. Not Donny. We’re high school sweethearts. Meant to be. He wouldn’t do that to me. Pretty stupid, huh?”

“It’s not stupid to believe in love. He just wasn’t worthy of your love. That’s all on him, not you.”

“I know that now—in my head, at least. But back then, I just couldn’t see it. So when you showed up and were against him, I defended him because, well, I couldn’t face the truth that I’d chosen so poorly. Couldn’t face the idea of another loss. Of another failure. But you didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. I’d go back and change it if I could.”

“I’ve already told you it’s okay, Lee. Do I wish you would have gotten out of that situation sooner? Yes, but for your sake, not mine. Besides, I’m not sorry, because everything that happened led us here. It led to Ryder, to me becoming a dad, however different a path than I saw it happening. It led to us, being a family. So in the end, all things worked together for good.”

Her mouth hangs open.

And it takes me a moment to figure out why. At the same time, she asks, “What do you mean, it led to Ryder?”

And I know it’s time to tell her the truth—the whole truth about what happened that night. All my cards on the table. Allmymess spilled out.

I can only pray it doesn’t change how she feels about me. Though I wouldn’t blame her if it did.

twenty-two

MARILEE

“Jordan?”

He’s gone still beside me.

“Hey.” I wait until he’s looking at me. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

He gives me a small smile—one that doesn’t reach his eyes—and then stands, holding out his hand to help me up. “We should get going back to our tent. Pack up. Get back to town.”

Back to reality.

“Yeah, okay.”

We both gather our packs and silently pick our way down the rock to the path. It winds to the bottom of the waterfall and another few miles through the trees, and we follow the loamy forest floor as it weaves. The sun’s hidden here, the branches overhead choking out its rays, and I find myself shivering again—though not just because of the breeze that’s kicked up.

It takes him a while, but finally, Jordan speaks. “After I left you that night, I did something I swore I’d never do.”

I stop and squint at him. He’s so solemn, and if I know Jordan, he needs me to remind him to laugh, even when things are hard. “Please don’t tell me you murdered someone.”

“I wanted to.”

---