Page 69 of Crashing Waves

And she turned around to face me.

“Look, I know it doesn’t matter,” she said hurriedly. “I know it doesn’t change anything. But this … this was really nice.You’rereally nice. I-I probably shouldn’t be saying this at all, but I like you. And if things were different, if you weren’t just passing through, if I wasn’t …” She clamped her lips shut and swallowed as if she wanted to say something and didn’t know how. Then she shook her head, quickly backtracking. “No, I don’t wish they were different. It’s not that. I’m just saying,ifthey were …”

“Right.” I nodded, thinking I understood as a crashing wave of loss and sadness pressed against my chest. “If they were.”

***

The next morning, I awoke in a strange bed with my phone ringing on the nightstand. It took me a moment to remember where I was—some random town in Connecticut—and that I’d spent hours talking to a woman who felt now like a dream.

Thesweetestdream.

I hoped it was her calling me. I hoped foolishly that she’d changed her mind about … whatever was keeping her away, but it wasn’t.

It was Luke from the mechanic’s shop to let me know that he had managed to get the job finished overnight.

“What? You didn’t have to work crazy hours for me, man,” I said, feeling guilty if he’d given me any sort of special treatment.

“Nah, it’s all right,” he said. “Actually, I got into a fight with my girlfriend last night and didn’t wanna be home.” He chuckled. “You know how it is.”

I chuckled with him, albeit bitterly, as the ache of missing Laura struck cold and swift, despite her never being my girlfriend in the first place. “Ah, okay. Well, thanks a lot. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He sighed into the phone. “Oh, before I forget, she’s not in the office today, so when you come by, find me in the garage. I’ll get you the keys, all right?”

“She?” I asked, slowly sitting up in bed as an image of my dream woman came into view. Strawberry-blonde hair. Pretty blue eyes. The softest, most alluring lips I’d ever seen in my damn life.

“Yeah, my girlfriend, Melanie. You met her yesterday. She usually works the desk, but …”

My lips parted with an exhale as I leaned forward and rested my forehead in the palm of my hand.

Her name was Melanie, and she was someone else’s girlfriend.

I replayed her words to me—"If things were different”—and now I understood.

If she hadn’t been with someone else. If I hadn’t been leaving.

If things were different.

If they were.

God, why did it hurt so badly to know now that someone else was lucky enough to call her his? She had seemed soperfectfor me, like the jagged edges of our puzzle pieces justfit. It didn’t seem right for her to belong to anyone else, like she had been made to be mine andonlymine, but …

No,no. Was I fucking insane? I had spent a total of two and a half, maybe three hours with her. We’d had dinner, chatted for a bit, and then parted ways. There was no way I could’ve determined whether she was right for me or not in that shred of time, nor could I make the judgment that he was wrong for her.

I’m grieving. I miss Laura, and I’m deflecting, I reasoned with a nod, then cleared my throat.

“Right, okay, yeah. Uh …” I scrubbed my palm over my eyes, shaking off the disappointment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, man. It’s covered.”

My hand fell to my lap as I stared off toward the opposite side of the small motel room. “What? No, I can’t—"

“Mel’s dad owns the place,” he interrupted, and although I didn’t know Luke well, I knew he was smiling. “He said it was on him, from one sergeant to another, and to thank you for your service to our country.”

I grunted a forced chuckle and repeated the words I had said to Melanie the day before. “It’s all I know how to do.”

And it’s all I’m good for.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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