Page 21 of Secrets of the Past (Secrets of Mustang Island #3)

T he night was still except for the chorus of cicadas and the slow slap of water against the pilings.

Nicole sat curled in the deck chair, the summer breeze cooling her and protecting her from mosquitoes.

A lightweight throw rested on her shoulders.

A single lamp glowed behind her in the kitchen, spilling a sliver of light across the wooden planks, but beyond that, everything was swallowed in moonlight and shadow.

The tide rolled in and out like a heartbeat, steady and unyielding, a sharp contrast to the storm inside her.

All her life, her parents’ house had clung to the edge of the ocean, her father’s boat tied faithfully to the pilings out back.

That boat had been part of the view, part of the rhythm of her childhood, but now it was gone.

Some days, she wondered why they still lived here at all.

And yet, she couldn’t deny she loved the sound of the surf, the steady hush of waves brushing against the shore, comforting, almost like a heartbeat.

Except when storms rolled in. Then the water rose angry and wild, slamming against the wood, shaking the house with every crash.

On those nights, fear sat heavy in her chest, the same fear curling through her now.

Her case felt like it was slipping through her fingers, its foundation washing out from under her.

For the first time, she doubted the story she’d built, doubted that Derrick Reddick had pulled the trigger that killed Bianca.

The trial replayed in her mind like a film she couldn’t turn off. The jurors’ shifting eyes, the way Evelyn Reddick had sat in the gallery with her chin high, the weight of the evidence balanced on the edge of a knife.

What unsettled her most wasn’t just the woman herself, but how closely she resembled Tripp’s mother, the same poise, the same calculating eyes, the same chill that could cut straight through you.

Tomorrow, the state would rest. Nicole would have to rise, thank the jury for their patience, and yield the floor to Tripp. Then it would be his turn, to dismantle her case and convince the jury his client was innocent.

The thought made her stomach twist. She knew how good he was. She’d watched him in court enough to recognize the precision of his cross-examinations, the way he built a narrative until it seemed inevitable. And this time, he’d be wielding his skill like a blade aimed at her.

Staring into the dark horizon, she analyzed each piece of evidence.

Did they have the right person on trial?

No matter how much she tried to keep the lines clean, prosecutor, defense counsel, adversaries, she couldn’t.

Not with Tripp. Not when every word they spoke seemed to stir embers she’d spent half a lifetime trying to smother.

And seeing him every day reawakened every hidden ache in her body parts of her that still longed for him, still wanted him, still needed him like air.

The screen door creaked. Nicole glanced back as her mother stepped out, moving slowly, a mug of tea in her hand. She wore her robe and slippers, her sweater draped around her shoulders like a shawl.

“You’re still awake,” her mother said softly.

Nicole forced a smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Her mother settled into the chair beside her, setting the mug carefully on the armrest. For a long while, they sat together, listening to the hum of insects and the whisper of waves.

Finally, her mother said, “I know you’re upset. But you need to understand something. Your father and I were only trying to keep you from making a big mistake.”

Nicole’s chest tightened. She turned, the blanket slipping down her arm. “A mistake?”

Her mother didn’t look at her. She stared into the night as though the answer were out there in the dark. “You were seventeen, Nicole. You had your whole life ahead of you. And Tripp…he wasn’t…” She drew a breath. “He wasn’t the right one for you.”

Nicole let out a sharp laugh, bitter and raw. “The right one? He was the only one. Don’t you get it? I have loved him since the moment I first saw him.” Her voice cracked on the words, but she pushed on. “No one else has ever made me feel the way he does. Not before. Not since. Not ever.”

She’d grown up with parents who paraded their love like it was a crown, yet when it came to hers, they gutted it without remorse.

They weren’t blind—they knew exactly what she had with Tripp, and they carved it out of her life with surgical precision, leaving her bleeding.

And for that, she could never forgive them.

They hadn’t protected her—they’d destroyed her.

Her mother’s face flickered, guilt surfacing before she smoothed it away.

“We only wanted to protect you. You were so young. He came from a family…well, you know what his mother was like. Ambitious. Ruthless. We thought?—”

“You thought what?” Nicole cut in, her voice rising. “That I wasn’t strong enough? That I couldn’t make my own choices? That I didn’t know my own heart? That Tripp wouldn’t protect me from his family?”

“You were a kid,” her mother said, sharper now. “And I didn’t trust that boy to protect you.”

The statement cut deep, sharp as a stake through her heart. Would he really have protected her back then? Could he have stood against his family for her? She wanted to believe he would have—but doubt gnawed at her. Had he been strong enough then…was he even strong enough now?

Sadly, they’d been robbed of the chance to find out—robbed of knowing whether their love could have survived the crushing weight of family, the demands of school, and the vows of marriage. That loss gnawed at her, a wound that would never fully close.

“I was in love,” Nicole shot back. “And you destroyed that. You, Dad, and his mother all decided what was best for us, and we had no say. What if your mother had done that to you and Dad?”

Her mother flinched, looking down at her lap. “We thought we were saving you from a life of regret. You had college, law school, a career ahead of you. We didn’t want you tied down before you’d even begun.”

Nicole’s throat burned. “And what did that buy me, Mom? Do you know what it’s like to go through relationship after relationship and feel nothing?

To sit across from men who look good on paper and feel absolutely empty because none of them are him?

Because the only person who ever saw me, really saw me, was the boy you helped tear away from me? ”

Her mother’s eyes glistened in the moonlight, but she didn’t speak.

Nicole drew a ragged breath, her voice breaking. “How will you and Dad react if we get back together?”

The question hung heavy in the night air.

Her mother looked at her then, really looked, as though she were searching for the little girl she’d once raised. The silence stretched, the weight of years pressing down between them.

Nicole’s chest ached, her heart pounding in her ears. She wanted an answer. She needed an answer.

But her mother didn’t give one.

Instead, she rose slowly, gathering her robe around her, her tea still untouched on the armrest. She rested a hand on Nicole’s shoulder, just briefly, a fleeting touch of warmth that felt like both comfort and apology.

Her voice was quiet, almost tender. “Some loves aren’t meant to be easy.”

And with that, she turned and slipped back inside, the screen door closing with a soft thud.

Nicole sat frozen, her throat tight, her mother’s words echoing in her head.

Some loves aren’t meant to be easy.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, staring into the endlessly dark horizon. The ocean kept its rhythm, steady and uncaring.

She’d always thought love should be about choice. About two people who wanted each other enough to fight.

But tonight, alone on the deck, she realized love was also about survival.

And no matter what her parents thought, no matter what his mother thought, she wasn’t sure she could survive losing Tripp Masterson a second time. She wasn’t even sure they could survive their parents a second time.