Page 36

SARA

T he next several days swish by in a blur. After trying to change up my flight to go help, Trent sent me a text that was clear and succinct.

Please stay there. The best way to help is to leave me to deal with my family.

I try not to let the words sting. Not just the fact that he’s shutting me out, but the fact that I was engaged to become Trent’s family.

Today would have been our wedding day.

How’s that for a cruel twist of fate?

Hell, just a few days ago, I still thought Logan and I could form our own sort of family with Trent. That we could figure out some way to forge a new union. Our own brand of family, the three of us working to build a shared life.

What a joke.

“Hey.” Logan approaches behind me, nuzzling the back of my neck. “You okay?”

I’m not surprised he found me here. I’ve taken to spending time staring out at the sea. It makes me feel closer to Trent. To my Navy SEAL sweetheart who’s always felt calmer near water.

Turning to Logan, I sigh. “Not really.” It’s a blessing how honest I can be with him. “Today’s pretty rough.”

“I figured it might be.” He looks at his watch. “The ceremony would have started in an hour, huh?”

“Yeah.” I’m touched he remembered. Not just the date, but the time. “Guess I’m just grieving a little.”

“Totally understandable.” His wide, hazel eyes are like clear pools of kindness. “I see that a lot here, if that makes you feel less alone.”

“It kinda does.” Guess I’m in the right place to be mourning the loss of a marriage that won’t happen. “Have you heard from Trent?”

“Actually, I have.” He slips out his phone and unlocks it, handing it over without comment.

Scanning the screen, I register words not meant for my eyes.

Take care of her, Jarhead. I’m counting on you.

Lifting my eyes, I hand back the phone. “Tell my chauvinistic ex-fiancé that I’m fine taking care of myself.”

Logan pockets his phone and wraps his arms around me from behind.

We both stand facing the water, absorbing the swish of the sea.

I lean back against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum through my spine.

I breathe in the bright scent of brine and tropical flowers, missing a future I recognize now as a pipe dream.

“I can’t do that,” he says, jarring me out of my thoughts.

“Do what?” Craning my neck to look up at him, I’m met by the soft brush of Logan’s lips on my forehead.

“I can’t tell Trent I won’t take care of you because that isn’t true.

” He kisses my temple as I turn back to the water.

“I’ll always take care of you, Sara. Just like I trust you’ll take care of me.

” There’s a pause as he gathers his thoughts.

“And someday, when Frogman pulls his head out of his ass, he’ll take care of both of us like we take care of him. ”

I snort. “Like that’ll ever happen.”

“Have faith.” How does he sound so damn confident? “I happen to know love’s a powerful force for convincing a person to take big, brave steps they couldn’t face otherwise.”

“That’s sweet.” Completely wrongheaded, but sweet. “You didn’t grow up like we did. You don’t know how hard it is to break free from the mold and turn your back on the family that raised you.”

“Who said anything about turning your back on family?”

Sighing, I squeeze my eyes shut. He’s so tenderhearted and kind, but Logan doesn’t know what it’s like.

“Trent was right,” I say softly. “There’s no way they’d accept any sort of arrangement that isn’t the standard one man, one woman, forever and ever until death do we part . That’s the choice facing us both.”

I was willing to try, but Trent’s made it clear he isn’t. That’s it, then. Game over, do not pass go.

Logan’s long fingers stroke my forearm like he’s soothing a horse that’s been startled. “Frogman’s an asshole sometimes, but he’s a smart one. If anyone can figure out a way to make this work, it’s him.”

“I don’t think so.” I twist in his arms, turning to face him since I’m not sure Logan’s hearing me.

“I never saw how much he was hurting. How hard he tried to give me the traditional family dream I talked about from the first day we met. When he knew he wasn’t cut out to do that, he tried to release me so I could find what I wanted. ”

Brushing the hair from my face, he looks into my eyes with such kindness my legs shake. “Have you broadened your concept of what you want, Sara?”

“Yes.” For all the good that’s done.

But Logan’s not finished. “Have you changed since you’ve been here, maybe opened your heart to a different version of happily ever after?”

“Yeah.” Funny how quickly that happened. “I have.”

“Then give Trent a chance to do the same.” He kisses me softly, oversized palms pressing the small of my back. I open my mouth against his, letting our tongues tease and tangle.

By the time we draw back, I’m crying again.

“Hey,” he says softly, swiping my tears with the pad of his thumb. “From everything you’ve told me, your family loves you so much. Trent’s family, too, in their own way. They’re maybe not the same sort of family I grew up with, but love’s all the same when you strip away the crap.”

“Well—” I start to argue, but the man has a point. “I guess that’s true.”

“In a love that big, that expansive, there’s plenty of room for people to grow. To alter their vision like you did.” His thumb strokes my cheekbone again. “Like Trent could do, too.”

His faith breaks my heart, but it soothes it as well. Never in a million years did I dream I’d come to a tropical sex resort and find a missing piece of my soul.

But there’s one piece still missing, and he’s not calling or texting. What is Trent doing right now? Is he thinking of us, or focused on helping his mom? I called my own mother last night, probing to see if she’d heard anything from Mrs. James.

“I heard she spent a night in the hospital,” my mother reported. “I took flowers and homemade bread to the house.”

“You saw Trent?” I tried not to sound too needy.

“I saw his cousin. What’s his name again? The one who likes other men.”

Her tone reeked of judgement, but a strange little squiggle of hope twisted in me. It wasn’t that long ago Mom would have used an offensive slur.

“He doesn’t just like other men.” I tried hard to keep my voice even. “He’s been married to the same man for years. They co-own a company and they’re raising three kids.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath. “He has children ?”

“Yes, Mom.” I swear I’ve told her that ten or twelve times. “Beck has a husband and kids and a super-successful business. His husband’s a youth pastor in their church and their three kids were fosters from a horribly abusive home.”

“I see.” Something in her voice said maybe she did. For the first time ever, I felt a sliver of hope that my mother could open her mind. “Well,” she said slowly, “I suppose that’s…it’s…” She struggled to find the right words. “Good for them.”

“Yes.” A sense of relief washed through me. “Good for them.”

Mom wasn’t done, though. “I sure don’t know what Trent’s mother sees in that horrible husband of hers. Do you think he hurt her?”

For once in my life, I felt grateful for the church gossip mill. “It’s certainly possible,” I said carefully. “Maybe having a proper, godly marriage is no guarantee you’ll be happy.”

“I suppose it’s not.” A long pause lingered on the phone line. “Maybe there’s more than one way to be married.”

Holding my breath, I bit down on the back of my knuckle. Biting back hope and tears as I wrapped up the call. I knew better than to push. Like most people do, my mom needs to find her own way. All I can be is a bright star of love to help guide her toward a new path.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Sara.” She stayed on the line like she had more to say. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”

“I do.” I’m not sure I did, but I’m starting to.

And now, as I draw in a deep, cleansing breath, I pull myself back to this beach. To Logan’s embrace and the steady, strong drum of his heart. Turning my head to the side, I catch sight of a big, cardboard rectangle resting at the base of a palm tree .

“What’s that?” I draw back to squint at the box. “Did somebody leave that there?”

“Me.” Logan releases me, turning to walk toward the tree. “There’s a service we offer at the resort called Bridal Ship Down.”

I watch as he picks up the box and carries it back to my side. “Bridal Ship Down?” I didn’t see that one in the app. “Is that some kind of pirate-themed sex thing?”

He laughs as he sets down the box at our feet. “Nope. It’s not a sex thing at all. It’s a ritual for helping our jilted brides let go of their fantasy weddings that didn’t happen. Given the significance of today, I thought you might like to try it.”

“Oh.” That’s…intriguing. Reaching into the box, I pull out a small wooden ship. It’s rustic and sturdy, the size of a small loaf of bread. There’s a mast made of bamboo, topped by a flag that’s been fashioned from palm fronds.

“They’re eco-friendly,” Logan says. “There’s a guy on the team who makes them with driftwood. Some of our brides choose to light them on fire before pushing them into the sea.”

“That doesn’t seem good for the fish.”

He smiles and takes out two more boats, leaving the box in the sand. “The fire snuffs out pretty quickly once you set it in the water.”

I study the two boats he’s holding. “You’re doing this, too?”

“Yeah.” He holds up the one in his left hand. “I got one for Trent. Thought it might help release him in spirit, you know?” His chuckle is sheepish as we carry the boats to the edge of the water. “He’d probably hate this, huh?”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But sometimes he needs a small nudge toward the thing that’ll give him relief.”

“Can’t hurt, I figure.” Logan kicks off his shoes and wades into the surf. Droplets of water shimmer on his muscular calves as I wade in to join him.

Clutching the hem of my dress in one hand, I bend down and balance my boat in the water. Gripping the back of it, I wait for a wave, then give it a push out to sea. “So long,” I whisper. “The dream served me well for a really long time.”

Logan crouches beside me, placing the first boat in the water. “Bon voyage,” he says, pushing it out on the next wave. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

Together, we launch the third boat. Trent’s little vessel catches up to ours and the three of them teeter and bob.

Then somehow in unison, all three of them surge to the top of a big, frothy wave.

They’re suspended in sunlight, sparkling with seafoam and bright, golden rays.

When the wave crashes down, all three of them vanish, absorbed by the swirl of the water.

Logan watches the spot for a moment. Taking my hand, he speaks with his eyes still fixed on the sea. “I gave my notice to Ms. Neville this morning.”

Gasping, I drop the hem of my dress. “You’re leaving?”

“It’s time,” he says softly, leading me out of the water. “I’m ready for my next chapter, whatever that looks like.”

What will it look like?

Will Logan move on and forget me?

Will he forget us, our trio of love and affection?

I don’t have the answers, and I’m not sure he does, either.

But his arm slides around me as we stroll through the soft, sun-warmed sand. It’s the moment I know we’ll both be okay.

That Trent will be, too, if he can find his way back to us.