I could love him, I know. I think I already do. But I can never have him. He’ll only break my heart.
A sob rises in my chest, and now the wretched pain is too much to bear. Tears sting the back of my throat, and I quickly hurry, stumbling out of the door and across the cold, wet sand as the grief and loss takes over. I bend double, shaking, trying my hardest not to make a sound.
It’s over.
My night with him. My one, glorious, perfect night is done. The sun is rising, the bay is soft with rosy morning light, and everything I had—everything we shared—is gone.
I wish it could be different. God, I wish it with every fiber of my soul. But he’s Hunter Covington, the boy with everything and I’m Brittany Ray: the daughter of a junkie and a disappointment. He’s leaving Beachwood, and I’m stuck right here. Even if he wanted to, even if we tried, it would never work. I’ve seen what happens with men, over and over again. He would only let me down, the way people always do. And this—last night—would be tarnished forever, chipped away with every disappointed phone call and half-hearted visit, until the memory was tainted with resentment and regret.
I couldn’t bear it. I don’t ever want to regret him.
I don’t ever want to see him let me down.
I pull myself upright, gasping a lungful of the crisp, early-morning air. The lighthouse stands, silent, betraying not a hint of our secret night.
I allow myself one last look, one aching thought of his face, his beautiful eyes, and then I walk away.
I’m sure I’ll never see him again.
I’m wrong.