Page 63 of The Girl I Once Loved

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The rain falls steadily from the darkened sky, the gentle pattering of droplets on my umbrella creating a soothing rhythm. The morning had disappeared, chapters flowing out of me for hours. The book is easy to write…but it’s also painful. So a break is in order.

With no particular destination in mind, I let my feet carry me through the familiar streets of Thatcher's Bay. The town wears a different face in the rain, softer, more subdued. The cozy coastal cottages appear even more inviting, their window panes shimmering with the warm glow of lamplight.

As I wander aimlessly, my thoughts inevitably drift to Noah. Our previous encounters have left a lingering tension in the air, a thread of attraction I'd been desperately trying to deny. It's as if he has the power to pull at my very core, awakening emotions I've long buried.

Without realizing it, my steps lead me to the cemetery where Noah's mother rests. The wrought-iron gates creak open as I enter, and the raindrops dance on the gravestones like tears from the heavens.

I walk along the winding paths, past rows of markers, until I find her grave. The headstone is a simple one, adorned with a delicate bouquet of fresh flowers. My heart clenches as I recognize Noah's handwriting on the small card tucked into the bouquet.

The rain continues to fall, soaking through my clothes, but I don't care. I crouch down in front of the grave, my fingers tracing the letters of her name etched into the stone.

"Annabelle," I whisper, the word a bittersweet melody on my lips. "What would you think of the mess we’ve made, I wonder?"

The sound of the raindrops on the umbrella is the only response, but in this quiet moment, it feels like she’s listening, her presence lingering in the air.

I sit there for a while, lost in thought, my heart heavy with memories of the past and the uncertainty of the future. The rain seems to wash away some of my doubt, cleansing me of the burden I've been carrying.

"I hope you’re at peace," I murmur, placing a hand on the grave.

As I rise to my feet and turn to leave, I notice a solitary figure standing not far from me, beneath an ancient oak tree. It's Noah, his shirt soaked through from the rain, his hair clinging to his forehead. He's been here, watching me silently.

I approach him, my heart pounding in my chest. There's something in his eyes, a vulnerability I haven't seen in a long time. "Noah," I say softly, not sure what else to say.

He doesn't respond, his gaze locked onto his mother's grave. The rain continues to fall around us, but in this moment, it feels like the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of us.

"I still come here all the time," he finally says, his voice low and filled with emotion. "To talk to her, you know?"

I nod, understanding the need to connect with the past, to seek solace in the presence of someone who's gone but not forgotten.

Noah turns to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "Sky, there's so much we haven't said to each other, so much that's been left unsaid."

I swallow hard, the weight of our history pressing down on me. "I know, Noah. But sometimes, some things are better left in the past."

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against mine. "Maybe. But maybe some things need to be said, too."

I can feel the pull between us, the unspoken desire, but I'm not ready to face it, not now. "Noah, I need time. Time to figure things out."

He nods, his expression filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need, Sky. Just know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

As the rain continues to fall, I realize that some things are beyond our control, like the raindrops that keep on falling, bringing both solace and uncertainty. Annabelle’s grave stands as a silent witness to the love and loss that has defined our lives, a reminder that the past is never truly buried.

With a final glance at Noah, I turn and walk away, the rain washing away the tears on my cheeks and the weight in my heart. The road ahead is uncertain, but it’s a strange thing…every day that passes back in Thatcher’s Bay…I’m a little less afraid of the unknown.

Chapter Fifteen

Skylar

“You look drop dead gorgeous!” my sister squeals, eyeing me up and down with awe-struck appreciation. “You are going to give me a run for my money on my wedding day, squirt.”

“I very much doubt that.” I smile, happy that she’s pleased with how the dress looks on me.

“Don’t just stand there! Give us a few twirls,” Daisy insists, stepping back to sit down on the white plush sofa next to our mother.

“I’m only doing this because you’re the bride-to-be and apparently, I should encourage your every whim and fancy,” I joke, giving her the twirl she asked for.

“Again!” She starts clapping excitedly, coaxing me to whirl around in circles like some off-balanced ballerina.

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