Free Beach Wedding by Bella Cruise Page A

guess he’ll never know I
finished.”
    Before I can stop myself, I place a gentle hand on his arm. “He
knows.”
    Luke looks up, sadness in his eyes that I know all too well. I’ve
been carrying that absence ever since my own parents passed. Out of
everyone, Luke was always the one who helped me the most when I was
missing them. He knew when to crack a joke and lift my spirits, and
when to just be there, silent and loving, to help me through.
    He swallows, and then slowly steps away. My hand drops. “So,
you think you’ll take it?” Luke says, and clears his
throat. “It’s ten thousand a week.”
    “The production will take care of it,” I nod, wishing I
could say something else. “Thanks.”
    Luke heads back upstairs. I follow, wracking my brains for something
else to say. Should I mention the kiss, or should I just follow his
lead and act like it never happened?
    I’m saved from having to decide. Upstairs, a bright looking
young woman is waiting with a stack of papers in her hand and a phone
under her ear. “Yes, he’s right here,” she says.
“Luke? It’s the plumbing guy.”
    He gives me a rueful look. “I gotta take this. Just leave your
details with Gracie here, and we’ll get this fixed up. Rental
agreement,” he mouths to Gracie as he takes the phone and
stride over to the windows. “No, Bill, you’re killing me
on this…”
    “Hello?” Gracie pulls me back. “I have the
paperwork right here.”
    “Sure,” I say, turning away from the sight of him against
the ocean, illuminated by the midday sun. “Whatever you need.”
     
    Instead of driving straight back into bedlam, I take a detour down
the coast. I find myself driving to that spot Luke and I always used
to park, the secluded place where the woods and marshland meet the
water. I hope it hasn’t been razed over for some hotel to
build, but to my relief, it’s still deserted. Nothing but a
cluster of pelicans and a swaying palm for company as I park, turn
the radio off, and look out across the bay.
    Luke’s a man now.
    In my mind, he’s always been frozen as that easy-smiled,
charming boy of eighteen. Now, I can see ten years have made their
changes. Not just physical – his shoulders are broader, that
tanned face more weathered with the stubble – but the way he
carries himself, too. There’s a new confidence, but a quiet
maturity, like he’s at ease in his own skin.
    Losing his dad must have been a terrible blow, but he seems to have
made it through all right, building the business and a life for
himself. I told him his father would be proud, but I am, too. I
always knew he was capable of doing great things. I always tried to
tell him, but he just took that as a sign I didn’t think he was
good enough yet.
    I let out a wistful sigh. We sure made a mess of things back then,
and I was the one to carry most of the blame. But we didn’t
know any better, two kids so swept up in each other they didn’t
know how to steer that steady course. I’ve been telling myself
for ten years now that passion like the kind we shared was bound to
go down in flames, but coming back here, seeing him so settled, it
makes my heart ache with the terrible question:
    What if I’d never left at all?
    It could be me that Luke comes home to every night, me curled up
beside him for a sunset drink. Talking about our days, laughing and
kissing the way we used to. And then, later, heading off to bed…
    I force my thoughts away from that king-sized bed at the house. It’s
all just make-believe, I know. Even if I’d stuck around longer,
never made that midnight drive out of town, we wouldn’t be the
people we are now. Luke would have driven me crazy with his laziness
and carefree attitude, and I would have felt my frustrations build,
itching for a freedom I needed to taste for myself before it could be
sated.
    But still, the ‘what if’s circle like gulls, calling
their echoes into the wind. Maybe it would be easier if I’d
fallen in love like that