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Okay, now … I’m starting to feel a whole new kind of uncomfortable. Older man with family money and a boat—perfect.
“Ah,” I say. “I see. So, Justin and I have some things in common.”
“Logically I realize that you aren’t anything like him,” Sadie says quickly. “But … I think there’s some muscle memory that’s triggering my fear. Just because of the parallels. The whole experience made me not want to give myself over to anyone, not to lose myself in a relationship again.” She pauses. “It also made me wary of … “
“Rich boys?” I ask when her words trail off. “Maybe even billionaires in boat shoes?”
“Little bit.” She pauses. “I mean, I didn’t really know who I was as a person when I was with Justin. And I liked him so much, I let him try to mold me into this picture-perfect society girlfriend. The most terrible part is that I knew it was happening. I could see it, but I ignored it, thinking I was in love with him. I just got lost.”
“You were young,” I say.
“Notthatyoung. But I was just repeating the patterns I knew. I saw my mom do this same thing a dozen different times when we were growing up. Every man she dated, she morphed into what version of herself she thought he’d like best. She became a cross-country skier for a few months, which was totally ridiculous because she’d never even been on skis. Another guy loved Nascar, and suddenly Mom was memorizing the names of every guy who ever won the Daytona 500. She was only defined by the man standing beside her, and I hated it. I swore I would never do the same thing, and then as soon as I was old enough to leave the house, that’s exactly what happened.”
“Sadie,” I say, lifting one hand to stroke her cheek. I wish I could see her right now. But maybe this is a conversation best had in the dark. “In all seriousness, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Thank you,” she says stiffly, and I can hear the but coming. “But it wasn’t just something thathappenedto me. I wasn’t passive. It was my decision too. If I became who Justin wanted, then I didn’t have to decide whoIwanted to be. It was like a game, you know? Like playing dress up. I wasn’t therealSadie. I wasJustin’sSadie. Which was fine, because then I didn’t have to decide who the real Sadie was.”
“You seem sure of yourself now,” I say. She might be one of the most self-assured people I’ve ever met. And this vulnerability, knowing this story, doesn’t change that.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “It’s taken work.”
“Do you feel like a relationship would put that at risk?”
We both tense when the boat makes a sudden movement. My stomach dips, and I tighten my hold on Sadie. Lightning flashes, and the rain pounds as the wind picks up, giving a long, low howl. The weather suits my mood a little too perfectly.
“Yes? No? I’m not sure I know. I haven’t had to ask myself that question because I’ve worked so hard to keep everything casual. But now you’re telling me you want something real, and I like you enough to want to give you that,” Sadie says. “But that means I have tobereal, which I’m sure I can do on my own. But I’m not so sure I can do it with another person.”
“I think you feel pretty real.” I pinch her side lightly, but this time, she doesn’t giggle. She flinches. I drop my hand to rest on the curve of her waist.
“Ben, we’re currently in a bubble. In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, trapped on a yacht with no phones, totally separated from our normal lives. This isn’t real life.”
I know she’s right—thisisn’treal life. It is like a bubble. But that doesn’t mean it will pop the moment we set foot back on the dock at Oakley.
“So, let’s take this outside the bubble. See what happens. Just because this has all happened in the midst of unusual circumstances doesn’t mean it can’t work in real life.”
“Doesn’t it?” Sadie asks.
My fingers flex, tightening on her waist, tugging her closer. “No. It doesn’t.”
Sadie sighs, lifting her hand to trace my jaw with her fingertips. It almost feels like she’s memorizing the contours of my face before saying goodbye.
“I want to believe you,” she says quietly. “But you know what? There might be actual people out there who want to harm me, and that doesn’t scare me half as much as you do.”
“Why?”
“I like my walls, Ben. You make me want to take them down.”
“And how are those walls serving you?” I ask. “Will you keep them up forever? Be alone forever?”
She’s quiet for longer than she should be, and I swear, it’s like I can hear the loud thoughts banging around in her head.
“A week ago, it would have been an easy yes,” she says. “I’ve genuinely believed I’m better off alone because then I can justbeme and not worry about it.”
“Sadie, the last thing I would ever want to do is change you,” I say, trying to keep a frustrated edge out of my voice. I feel like the longer we talk, the more she opens up, yet somehow the higher her walls are actually getting. Like I’m losing her moment by moment, even when she’s in my arms. “The reason I like you is because you’reyou.”
“That’swhy I’m so scared, Ben. You’re taking away all my reasons to keep up my walls.”
There’s a knock, and we both startle. I peel myself away from Sadie and fumble my way through the dark to the door. German hulks in the hallway lit by small, generator lights along the floor.
