Page 40 of Summer’s Echo

Summer

I expected Echo to toss my legs off him after my statement, to shake his head, maybe even call me out for the mess I had made.

What did he expect me to do? Flake on my wedding and jump right into his bed?

Well…that is kind of what I did. I swallowed hard, but he didn’t move.

He didn’t push me away. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze penetrating, his touch merciless.

“Echo,” I started, vulnerability straining my voice. “I just walked away from my wedding—from a life I spent years building. A life I thought I wanted.” My throat tightened, and I blinked rapidly, willing the emotions away. “I just told a man I care about that I never really loved him.”

The truth sat heavy on my heart, suffocating me. I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “And now I’m here, with you, and I—” I faltered, running a hand down my face. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Echo’s voice was resolute when he spoke. His tenor low and rich, like an anchor pulling me back from the storm. “Breathe, Sunshine,” he said. His thumb brushed against my knee in slow, soothing circles. “You start by breathing…and then you start over.”

I let out a weak, breathy laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is.” He paused, reaching out to gently nudge my chin, tilting my face toward his.

His touch was featherlight, his eyes searching mine with something recognizable, something I missed.

“You’ve been holding your breath for years, Summer, trying to force yourself into a life that didn’t fit.

You start by letting yourself breathe again, baby. ”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a small, teasing smile. Just enough to soften the corners of my doubt. I offered him the faintest one in return, though I still wasn’t convinced that it would ever be as easy as he made it sound.

“Yesterday, you thought you wouldn’t make it through today,” he said.

I inhaled sharply. “I almost didn’t.”

“But you did,” he countered, his voice firm, “and you’ll make it through tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.”

A deep, shaky exhale pushed through my lips as I sank further into the couch.

I hated that he was right. Yesterday, I thought my life was over.

I thought my truth would wreck everything—Deshawn, myself, our families.

And yet we were all still here. Hurting, yes, but alive.

Still standing to face another day to heal the wounds.

Echo reached out, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

His fingers lingered at my jaw, faintly tracing up and down.

“I’m not saying it’s not going to be tough,” he said, “because it will be. People are going to whisper. They’re going to ask questions you may not have answers for, but you keep pushing. Keep fighting for what you want, Sun.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, staring at my hands, at the way my fingers trembled against my lap. “I don’t want to make another mistake,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anybody else.”

I don’t want to hurt you . I didn’t say it, but I felt it.

Echo studied me, a fleeting emotion danced with something unreadable before his grip on my knee tightened just slightly. His response was simple, assured. “Then don’t.”

Like a morning alarm cutting through REM sleep, his words hit me, forcing me to acknowledge what I had been avoiding: My dream—my everything—was right here.

And I was right on the edge of taking that leap, of finally saying yes to the love I’d spent a lifetime running from.

But then…the past reared its head. We had so much unsettled history, so many wounds still lingering between us, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open Pandora’s box again.

Because what if this time we couldn’t put the pieces back together?

“But what—” I started.

“But what?” Echo cut in, his voice keen with frustration.

“What will people think? What if this doesn’t work?

What if we fuck it up?” He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, as if trying to shoo away the same concerns burdening me.

Then, his gaze snapped back to mine, unshakeable and determined.

“Summer, we’ve spent fifteen years pretending we didn’t feel this. Pretending we could just move on and forget what we meant to each other. And look where that got us: You standing at an altar you didn’t want to be at. Me in a relationship that was never going to last.”

His words squeezed at something fragile inside me. “I don’t want to hurt you, E. I don’t want to be hurt,” I said, my voice cracking, on the brink of a cry.

Shaking his head, he said, “Too late. We did that already.”

Then, with a gentleness that made my breath stutter, he took my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing my palm. I smiled despite myself, tracing the familiar curves and lines of his face with my eyes, memorizing him all over again.

“Today Max asked me if I was going to give you space…or if I was all in.” He massaged small circles into the back of my hand, lulling away my cares. “I told him I was all in, but that’s not fair to you.”

“E…” I practically whined, his words causing pressure to build and build, threatening to spill over.

Without hesitation, Echo reached out, sliding his hand to the back of my head, pulling me closer. With his other hand, he pressed two fingers against my lips, silencing me. His touch was like a song I’d never heard before yet somehow knew by heart.

“You’ve been the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” Emotion clung to his voice. “And I know this is messy. I know you need time.” Then, his forehead met mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, his caress unyielding and necessary.

“I’m going to give you the space you need, Summer, but please understand, I’m going to be pressure. I’m not letting up until you tell me to.”

The thump in my heart had moved lower, deeper, pounding between my thighs.

I should not crave this man the way that I did.

But when he looked at me like that, searching my face for doubt, for the hesitation that had defined us for years, I knew there was no use fighting it.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers threading into my hair.

“I’m not giving up unless you’re telling me you don’t feel this. If you’re going to act like what we just admitted doesn’t mean something, then say it now because I’m done pretending, Summer.”

A trembly breath escaped me every time he called me Summer.

It wasn’t just the way hisrich baritone wrapped around the syllables like a caress.

It was the undeniable truth in his voice.

When he said Summer, that meant that he wasn’t being casual—it wasn’t just a habit or a nickname.

It was a promise, a claim that he meant every time.

Lost in the way he said my name, I almost forgot his question.

But my body knew the answer before my lips could form it.

And then, barely above a whisper, I said, “I can’t say that. ”

Something in his gaze eased just enough for me to know he believed me. His thumb brushed against my cheek, lingering there, as if memorizing the way I felt beneath his touch. His voice carried the responsibility of something heavy. “Then don’t run. Not this time.”

I closed my eyes, pulling in a slow breath. When I opened them again, Echo was still there. Waiting. Watching. Wanting. “I won’t.”

And for the first time since we were teenagers, I closed the space between us and kissed him.

It was slow and steady. No rush. No urgency.

Just the raw, aching sweetness of something we had both lost and found again.

I’d kissed my fair share of men since high school, but none of them—not one—ever tasted like this.

Because Echo’s thick, smooth lips and his even thicker tongue were always imprinted in my mind.

And if I was being honest, I wanted them imprinted all over me.

“Summer, do you want—” The sound of the screen door creaking open followed by my sister’s screeching voice didn’t deter us from the kiss.

“ Oohh, pay up, Nette.” Raqi’s voice was smug, layered with satisfaction, and when I finally opened my eyes, I saw her standing there with Annette, both peeking around the doorway like nosy little kids.

“Oh, shit.” Annette snorted, eyes wide before she folded her arms casually. “Well…I guess it’s about time.”

Echo and I finally pulled away. “What are y’all doing?” I demanded, still breathless.

“Uh, no, baby sis. What are you doing?” Raqi chuckled, nudging Annette playfully. “I told you, Nette. Echo was gonna get his girl. I didn’t think you’d move this fast, though, li’l E,” she teased, winking his way.

Echo didn’t say a word, but when I turned to look at him, a cute, shrewd smirk was already curving his lips, all confidence and quiet victory.

I rolled my eyes, but the way his fingertips traced tender, deliberate strokes across my exposed skin had me melting instead of fuming.

My sisters’ cackling faded as they meandered out of the sunroom, but I barely registered their retreat because the second we were alone again, Echo captured my lips, urgently pulling me back into the moment—into us.

He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me effortlessly until my legs straddled him.

An intense, leisurely exhale passed between us as he pressed his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in sync.

We sat there, consumed by each other, saying nothing.

The only sound was the love and longing woven into the light, tender pecks.

The truth was out. And no matter what came next, we were finally facing it together.

Echo swept his lips over my cheek, his voice a rough, reverent whisper against my skin. “I always wanted us, Summer. I wanted our family.”