Page 25 of Beginnings By the Sea

Nyla filled up her plate with fish and nodded, her smile sad. “I’m trying to.”

We spent the next few minutes eating our food in silence. It was nice just being able to spend time with her, but I could tell she had a lot weighing on her mind. After eating, Nyla dropped her fork on her plate, the sound echoing all around us.

“Okay, I just want to come out and say this,” she blurted.

There was nothing but determination on her face. She reached over and grabbed my hand; her skin was so soft I didn’t want her to let go.

“I just want to say how sorry I am for how things ended. I haven’t been able to get closure. All I wanted back then was never to see you again. I thought that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be reminded of how badly I screwed up. I thought the guilt and regret would go away.”

I squeezed her hand. “And did it?”

Tears filled her eyes. “No. That’s why I’m glad you’re here. I need to hear it from your lips that you forgive me. I don’t think I can move on without it.”

Those weren’t exactly the words I wanted to hear from her.

“Is that what you want?” I asked. “To move on?”

She rubbed a hand over her chest. “I don’t think I can handle the guilt anymore, Miles. It’s the only thing that keeps me from being fully happy.” She shrugged. “Well, that, and hoping that you’ve been able to find happiness after everything I put you through.” I shook my head, but she held up a hand. “Are you happy? And I need you to be completely honest with me.”

The truth was not what she needed to hear now; it wasn’t the right time.

“I am,” I lied. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

There was a hint of sadness on her face. “So, you’ve moved on?”

I nodded, but it wasn’t in the way that I knew she was asking.

“I’m happy, Nyla,” I said, placing my other hand on our clasped ones. “I don’t want to be the cause of you being miserable. What happened in our past changed us . . . for the better. You are where you’re supposed to be. And I am, too.”

With her.

Her eyes looked deep into mine as she squeezed my hand and let go.

“It really is good to see you.”

“Same,” I murmured. “And it would be nice if we could keep in touch. I would rather have you in my life than not at all.”

She looked down at the remnants of her leftover food and poked her fork around the inside of her potato. I had a feeling the mention of her new boyfriend was about to come up. That was what I wanted; I wanted to know who he was in her life.

“Miles,” she whispered, letting out a strangled breath. She paused and stared at me, but I was the one who spoke.

“Let me guess . . . you’re seeing someone, and it’ll cause problems,” I said.

Her eyes widened and that was my answer. “I was going to tell you,” she started, then sighed. “But my mind has been all over the place with seeing you.”

“Seeing me?” I questioned. “What does that mean?”

Panic flashed across her face and she stood, her attention focusing on the dirty plates. “I need to clean up. It’s getting late.”

She piled the plates all together in her arms and rushed inside. I grabbed the rest of the dishes, along with the pitcher of tea, and went in to see her washing everything haphazardly. Carefully, I placed everything on the kitchen counter and stood there, wishing I could pull her into my arms as I’d done many times before. There were so many different ways tonight could go, but I had to hope for the best. If Nyla wanted closure, it was time to put everything on the line.

Before I could speak, Nyla’s voice cut through the silence, her back to me as she stood by the sink, her shoulders tense and her hands gripping the countertop.

“Jensen said something, didn’t he?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. “When I asked if you were with someone, I could sense he didn’t want to tell me, so I let it go.” I took a step toward her. “How long have you been with this guy?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Not long. Just about a month.”

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