Page 61 of Release Me

“You’re being selfish! And, well …” He falters. “What about whatIwant?”

“What exactly doyouwant?” Because my cynical side is beginning to spin dark theories.

“How about living in a house we both own!” He throws his hands in the air, sloshing Gatorade.

“We can’t buy another place likethis.” These little beachside homes are all but gone, absorbed by developers building four-story monstrosities.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. There are tons of great places for half the price a few blocks inland.”

“Inland!” I spit the word with disgust. Why would I ever trade my view of the ocean every morning for watching neighbors pushing lawn mowers?

“Come on, would you read the deal before you flip out?” With one of his crooked smiles that normally wins me over no matter how angry I am, he unfolds the page and thrusts it in front of my face. “Look at how many digits there are! And we won’t have to leave here until the fall so we can get married out on the beach like we planned and take our time finding another place.”

“And you don’t think Wolf would just tear this place down?”

“So what? We can have something ten times nicer! Plus, we can pay off all our debts.”

“I don’t have any debts.”

But he goes on like I haven’t spoken. “And buy that cabin cruiser we’ve always talked about getting. And we could get my mom a new trailer …”

Cody’s words fade as his intentions scream to me, and seemingly obscure details click into place—about the timing of his proposal and his behaviors since. Frank had tried to warn me. Small, subtle comments that made me lash out at him. But he was right! How did I not see this before?

“Babe? Did you hear me?”

“I am such a sucker,” I whisper, a sheen of tears coating my eyes as I give my engagement ring a tug, letting it drop to the sand.

31.Ronan

One year later, Miami

TASHA

Hey … I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. I’m going to be in Miami this weekend. If you’re around, I’d love to hook up. I fly in on Thursday night.

I readover the text three times to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Two years ago, I prayed for these words, but I never expected to see them.

Connor pauses mid beach chair setup to study my deep frown. “Why do you look like our cat just died?”

“We don’t have a cat.”

“Wecouldhave a cat. I’d name it Ronaldo.”

I ignore his dumbassery and hold up my phone. “The ex.”

Abandoning the beach chair, he wanders over to read the message. “Damn.The exex?”

“Tash. Yeah.” Not that Connor and I have deep heart-to-hearts, but Tasha’s the only one I’ve ever mentioned besides Abbi, and I’ve only mentioned her once or twice.

He brushes a bead of sweat off his brow. It’s early morning and already sweltering. “How long has it been?”

“Since I’ve heard from her directly? Two years.” Before I transferred jobs and moved to Miami. Not a call, not a text. But my little sister ran into her at the bar last fall in Indianapolis. The way Britt tells it, Tasha interrogated her about all thingsme—what I’ve been up to, if I’m dating anyone, how I ended up in my billionaire boss’s wedding party. She seemed especially curious about that one.

Connor shifts back to setting up the beach for hotel patrons—that I was helping with until this little bomb went off in my pocket. “Hookup, huh?” He spares me a smirk. “You know what that means, right?”

I shrug. “That she’s gonna be in Miami and she knows I’m here?” Who does Tasha know in this city? No one I’m aware of and we dated for four years. I knewallher friends back then.

“Nah, man. That there is an ‘I want to get back together’ text.” Connor points at my phone to emphasize his point.

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