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“When you weren’t at your spot at the beach, I knew there was only one other place you could be. Stealing my booze,” Marco said as he sat down beside her. His legs dangled over the dock, his black work boots skimming the water’s surface.
“Yeah well, I’ve had a rough day.” She took a swig from the can, letting her silence speak for itself.
He pulled the line and grabbed a beer for himself. “Grandpa and Enzo are worried about you,” Marco said.
“What else is new?”
“So, this is how it’s going to go?” he asked. “I say something, you snap back at me with sarcasm and displeasure, and we go back and forth until one of us walks away?”
“I’m rather comfortable here,” she said.
Marco laughed then took another sip of his beer. He looked out across the harbor and rested the can against his thigh. “I get it, you know? Falling for someone who is all wrong for you… yet unable to stop loving them.”
Ella turned her gaze to him. Everyone knew the story of Marco and Aubrey, but Marco never talked about it. Ever. Aubrey was completely off-limits and for good reason. The girl practically destroyed his life, took away his chance at leaving this place, all because he loved her. And he didn’t just love her, he was soul deep, unconditionally devoted to her. He’d never been the same since.
Ella never thought she’d understand him, but after everything, she was seeing Marco a little clearer.
“How do you move on?” she asked.
“You just do. Piece by piece, you gather yourself, force yourself to keep going until one day you do it without telling yourself to.”
“It hurts so badly,” she said, her façade finally crumbling under the pressure of her sorrow.
Marco draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her tight against him. “I know. It gets easier. Not right away but eventually. I can promise you that much.”
She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she was tired of tip-toeing around, afraid to make waves. It wasn’t the Moretti way, and it was time she stopped trying to avoid the hard topics because life was full of them.
“Do you still think about her?” she asked.
Marco was silent for a long moment, staring out into the horizon. He played with the beer tab, wiggling it back and forth when he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “That’s the thing about love. Once you give your heart to someone, they’ll always own a piece of it. So yeah, I still think about her.”
“Do you think either of us will ever get our happy endings?” She was never big on fairy tales, but she had always hoped that one day she’d at least be happy.
“I do,” he said with confidence. “We’ve been through enough in this lifetime; it’s the least the universe can do.”
“I hope so.” Though, she wasn’t feeling too confident in the universe right now. If anything, she felt like it was conspiring against her.
“And hey.” He nudged her shoulder. “I’m sorry about… well, you know.”
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Marco didn’t apologize, and if he was, it must’ve been something serious.
“Oh, you don’t know.” He nodded, drumming his fingers against his thigh.
“Don’t know what?”
He broke the cap off from fidgeting with it and took a long sip. “Kind of punched your boyfriend.”
“Marco!”
“What? I saw you run off crying. He asked for it.”
She had been so consumed in her own grief she hadn’t noticed Marco had seen any of that. If she had, she could’ve reasoned with him and prevented the confrontation. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. I barely touched him.” Marco’s idea of “barely touching” put Enzo in the hospital with a broken nose once when they were teenagers, so his words didn’t hold any weight. For all she knew, he could’ve knocked Lucas unconscious. But Lucas wasn’t her problem anymore. He’d made that decision.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, feeling shame and disappointment for having to point it out.
“Maybe not, but the guy loves you.”
