Page 20 of Back in the Bay

The song shifts, but we keep dancing, neither of us willing to break the spell.

"And you?" I ask. "The hardware store must be thriving under your leadership."

"Cedar Bay Construction has been incredibly lucrative and keeps me busy," he says with a hint of pride. "We expanded five years ago. Added landscaping and took over my dad’s lumber business. We’re the biggest supplier of lumber between here and Oakridge."

"Cole, that's amazing."

"Yeah, well, it turns out I had some ideas after all."

The reference to our past stings a little. I'd accused Cole of lacking ambition, of being content to inherit his dad's business while I wanted to conquer the world. Now I wonder if I'd been too quick to judge and too eager to leave.

Over his shoulder, I see Cilla throw her bouquet. It arcs through the air and lands squarely in the arms of her surprised sister. Everyone cheers. Cole and I keep dancing.

"Do you ever think about it?" he asks suddenly, his voice dropping lower. "What might have happened if you'd stayed?"

The question hangs between us, a dangerous and tempting one. I could lie and brush it off with a joke, but something about being here, in Cole's arms again, makes me reckless with the truth.

"All the time," I admit. "Especially today. Watching Rowan and Cilla get married, I couldn't help but imagine us."

His hand tightens slightly on my waist. "I bought a ring, you know. Two weeks before you left for Portland."

My step falters. "You never told me that."

"What was the point? You'd made up your mind. Law school was waiting. I wasn't going to be the guy who tried to clip your wings."

The music swells around us, but all I can hear is the thundering of my heart. "I never thought of you that way," I whisper.

"No?" His eyes search mine, blue and clear as the bay on a summer morning. "What about now, Mabel? What do you think of me now?"

His question hangs in the air between us, and I can feel my carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble. The champagne has made me bold, or it's the way the fairy lights cast everything in a golden glow, making this moment feel like something out of a dream.

"I think..." I start, then stop, searching his face. The boy I knew is still there but now layered with the confidence of a man who has built something from nothing. "I think I was an idiot to leave the way I did––so suddenly and without a plan for us."

Something shifts in his expression—hope, maybe, or relief. His thumb traces a small circle on my back, and I feel that familiar flutter low in my stomach.

"We were kids," he says softly. "We thought we had to choose between love and dreams."

"And now?"

"Now I know they don't have to be mutually exclusive."

The song ends, but we don't step apart. If anything, we move closer until I can count the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, until I can feel his breath against my lips.

"Mabel," he whispers.

I should step back. I should make some excuse about needing air or another drink. I should remember all the reasons I built my life in Portland, all the walls I've carefully constructed around my heart.

Instead, I rise on my toes and close the distance between us.

His lips are warm and familiar against mine, tasting faintly of champagne and the intoxicating promise of what could be. The kiss begins softly, a gentle exploration, as though we're both treading carefully, fearful that this delicate moment might fracture like fragile glass. But then, his hand tenderly cradles myface, and I find myself dissolving into him, just as I did when we were seventeen, swept away by the naive belief that forever was our inevitable destiny.

When we finally break apart, I'm breathless and dizzy, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

"That was..." I start.

"Long overdue," he finishes, resting his forehead against mine.

Around us, the reception continues, but it feels like we're in our private world. The spark that brought us together all those years ago is still there, burning brighter than ever.

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