Page 28

ALANA

“Why didn’t you give him your married last name when he was born?”

Goddddddd . Straight to the friggin’ crux of things.

Tommy looks out at the lake, like I need the added context to know he means Franky.

“You were married by the time he came along, right? So why is he a Page?”

“I didn’t change my name when I got married.” I spin my ring using my thumb. It’s an old habit, a nervous tic that gives me something to do when I can’t sit still. “I knew I wanted to be a writer, and I didn’t want to use another man’s name on the front of my books.”

True. Ish.

“And Colin never insisted on having his son take his name? Even with relationships falling apart and divorce rates skyrocketing, it’s not like his kid stops being his just because the wife leaves.”

I stare out at my son perched atop Chris’ muscular shoulders, pounding his chest and screeching his laughter because that’s the sound he makes when he’s being silly.

“Colin didn’t insist.” Truth. “And I didn’t want a different name than my child. It wasn’t a big deal to Colin, so this is where we landed.”

“And now?” He matches my pose, setting his hands behind his body and stretching long, powerful legs alongside mine. “Divorce is coming, and you’ve already left the city. He’s the one with the different name. Is he not worried about losing his child?”

“He’s not worried.” I flick my toes. My fingers.

I spin my ring and chew on my lip. And still, I need more movement.

I need to escape. “Colin is welcome to call anytime he likes. Hourly, even, if he wanted to. They video chat most days and play chess.” A smile spreads across my lips long before my brain processes the pleasure rippling through my blood. “They love to play chess together.”

“He good at it? Franky,” he clarifies. “I don’t give a fuck about Colin.”

His words are harsh, but his eyes are kind. Amused, even. So I nod. “He’s really good. He’s extremely tactical and logical in the moves he makes. Unlike me. When I play, I’m relying on hopes and dreams and a splash of good luck.”

“Like playing Chris when we were younger.” He shifts his weight, accidentally brushing my hand with the side of his.

But when my eyes flare wide, he moves again.

“He whooped our asses before the game even began, manipulating us into making moves and cornering us in record time. He was always good at that.”

“Everything I knew about chess, I learned from your brother,” I admit with a smile. “Everything I know about it now, I learned from my own child. He’s a patient teacher, even if it means teaching me how to beat him.”

“Some people are just like that, I guess.” His eyes, perfect dark green, flash in the summer sun. “Not me. I’d rather win.”

Yeah. That’s not a secret. I already knew.

“So you wrote a book?” He casts his eyes back out to the trio in the lake. “What’s it about?”

“Small town living.” True. “Soul searching.” Also true.

I nibble on the inside of my cheek and lean forward to hug my legs.

“It’s just… it’s nothing, really. An idea I got a while back while I was home with my baby.

My brain needed something besides diapers and sleep schedules, so I started typing and, eventually, landed at the end . ”

“Sure, but what’s it about?” He leans forward, too. Maybe he mirrors my poses on purpose, or his movement is purely coincidental. But my stomach dips when he drags his knees up and wraps his arms around his legs. “Who is your main protagonist?”

No.

I shake my head, long before I even think to verbalize my thoughts.

“I don’t want to answer those questions. ”

“Oh…” Surprised, his brows pinch in my peripherals. “Okay. Didn’t realize that would be a boundary. Is it a love story? An adventure? A tragedy, maybe?”

All three. Sadly. And don’t forget the villain.

“I don’t want to talk about my book at all.

” The crunch of heavy wheels on dirt draws my eyes around until my next heart attack looms. Oliver pulls up beside Tommy’s truck, staring back at me with his mouth wide open and eyes as large as saucers.

He’s not quite mastered the skill of a poker face. “You still play cards against him?”

Curious, Tommy peeks over his shoulder. “Yep. He still sucks, too, ‘cos his tell isn’t even a tell. It’s a whole fuckin’ billboard.”

That’s what I figured.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, pushing to his feet and pressing his hand to my shoulder.

He can’t know thoughts of escape pass through my mind.

But it doesn’t take a genius to guess. “He’s just confused, is all.

I’ll go talk to him for a sec, so he knows we’re all getting along.

Then I’m coming back. I’m not done talking. ”

He doesn’t wait for my response. And even if he had, I’m not sure I have one to offer.

Instead, I rest my chin on my arm and watch him walk away, and when he and Oliver are mid-conversation, lifting a grill from the back of the truck and otherwise busy, I scramble off my towel, shove my skirt down my legs and toss my sunglasses so they don’t rust in the water.

As quick as I can, I move toward the lake and wander into the water at the same safe distance I put the tube in. Eliza Darling wants to kill me, and I haven’t been gone for so long that I forget what a fighter’s body looks like.

Disinterested in anything above the surface, I wade out to the drop-off and dip my head underwater.

Then I swim to the very bottom and simply…

stay for a little while. I search the murky depths and hold my breath, luxuriating in the cool water on my skin and the soft brush of my hair tickling my shoulders.

I haven’t swum since I was last in Plainview, which, now that I think about it, is ridiculous. I haven’t relaxed at a pool or a lake, not a beach or a lagoon. Not once in all the time since my son came into this world have I stepped into a body of water larger than a bathtub.

And sadly, I hadn’t even realized it.

I enrolled Franky in swimming lessons, of course, and watched every single week, hunching in on myself and pouting when water splashed my shoes or got on my legs.

But for ten years, I hadn’t even noticed I’d given up on something that used to bring me immense joy.

Such cool bliss on my skin. The freedom of weightlessness.

The magic of silence. And the pleasure of floating on my back, staring up at the shady trees above.

I’m not sure my hiatus was even intentional. I just… didn’t do it.

My lungs begin to ache, reminding me I don’t get to be a mermaid, living under the surface and yearning for a dark-haired man I can’t have.

I would sigh if I could. But I can’t, so I push off the lake floor, rocks and beer bottles under my feet, creating the foundations for some of my happiest memories.

I break the surface and suck in fresh air, only to turn and find Tommy’s nose just inches from mine. I scream and scramble away from his fiery eyes, splashing him with water that does nothing to douse the lava in his stare.

“What the hell are you doing?” My heart hammers out of control, working that much harder because I starved it of oxygen in the first place. “Jesus! You scared me.”

“You scared me.” He treads water calmly, droplets settling on his lip. His nose. His shoulders. “You were under for a long fuckin’ time, Alana.” He keeps his words devastatingly low, each one only for me, despite the eyes that burn the side of my face. The attention we garner, simply by existing.

Probably my scream, too. That would’ve done it.

“Your son wasn’t paying attention at first,” he growls. “But after a while, he started counting.”

Horrified, I swing my gaze around and find my baby, still on Chris’ shoulders, a full thirty feet away.

“Chris remembers from when we were younger, when you tested how long you could stay under.” Tommy’s feet brush mine beneath the surface, his long, powerful legs tangling with mine.

I pull away, vowing to squeeze mine together and become a pin before I wrap myself around this man again.

“So he told Franky how you did that. To save your son from worrying, they counted together. Now you’re up again, and everything is fine.

” His eyes flicker down to my lips. “But I know that wasn’t a game, Alana.

And if you had the choice, I think you’d disappear into the depths forever.

” He brings his gaze up again. “I asked you to wait on the towel for me. I was only gonna be gone for a minute.”

“Just because you want something doesn’t mean you get it.” I tread water and add another two feet between us, since it’s clear he won’t. “You should go hang out with your friends. I intend to float here a little longer until Franky’s done. Then we’ll leave, and you can get on with your day.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” He reclaims those two feet of space, and when I turn to take more, he only shifts, telling me without words that he plans to be wherever I go. I get no choice in the matter. “Why did you and Colin split up?”

“What?” A massive splash draws my focus to the left, to my son disappearing beneath the lake’s surface, arms and legs tangling and sprawling. But then he resurfaces again, laughing when Chris scoops him up.

“You agreed to answer some questions.” Tommy swims around, placing himself in my line of sight. “You and Colin… is that another thing you won’t talk about?”

I open my mouth to speak, only for him to cut me off again.

“You don’t wanna answer why you left, and you’ve drawn a line in the sand with your book. I’m respecting those. Fuck knows, I don’t wanna,” he grits out. “But I will. Is your relationship with Colin another boundary? Because if it is, say so. Don’t run away.”

“He’s…” I swallow the ache tickling the base of my throat. “Colin’s in love with someone else. Our relationship was always, and will always, remain cordial and kind. But he needs space to explore his relationship with Tasha, and Franky and I needed to come back here to be with my mom.”