The salt-kissed air hung heavy with the scent of brine and diesel as Mara tightened the straps on her worn leather guitar case. The pier creaked beneath her boots, a familiar groan that had once sounded like a lullaby. Now it felt like a warning. She paused at the edge of the dock, watching the waves churn beneath the fading light, their surfaces catching the last embers of sunset like shattered glass.
“You still take the long way home?” The voice was a low rumble, edged with laughter. Mara didn’t turn. She knew that cadence, the way it curled around words like smoke. It had haunted her dreams for seven years.
“I didn’t know you cared,” she said, her tone lighter than her pulse. The wind tugged at her sleeves, the cold seeping through the thin fabric. She finally faced him, the man who had walked away without a backward glance. His hair was shorter now, but the scar above his brow remained—a jagged line that had once been a boyish grin.
“You’re still playing that old song,” he said, nodding at her case. “The one with the broken chords.” His eyes were the same shade as the storm clouds gathering over the water, gray and unreadable.
Mara shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s all I’ve got left of you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, sharp and raw. She regretted them instantly, but the look in his eyes—something like guilt, maybe—made her hold his gaze.
“I didn’t know you’d still be here,” he said finally. “I thought you’d left with the last ferry.” His voice wavered, a crack in the veneer of calm.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she admitted. The admission tasted like ash on her tongue. The town had been her refuge, but also her prison. Every cobblestone street, every weathered storefront held a memory. And this man—this man was the one she couldn’t outrun.
He stepped closer, the scent of pine and leather surrounding her. “I’m not here to stay,” he said, but his hand hovered near her arm, hesitating. “Just passing through.” A lie, both of them knew it.
The sky deepened to indigo as the first stars pierced the horizon. Mara felt the weight of all they hadn’t said, the silence between them thick with unspoken truths. She wanted to lash out, to demand answers she’d never gotten. But instead, she reached for her case and turned toward the road that led up the cliffside, where the lighthouse stood like a sentinel over the town.
“Come on,” she said, not looking back. “Before it starts raining.” The storm had been building all day, but Mara hadn’t felt the first drop yet. She didn’t want to wait for it.
The path was narrow, flanked by jagged rocks that jutted from the earth like broken teeth. The wind howled through the crevices, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. She kept walking, not because she was angry, but because she needed space to breathe. The air was colder here, the sky darker, and for the first time in years, she felt truly alone.
“Mara,” he called again, his voice carrying over the gale. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?” she shot back, stopping mid-step. The words came out sharper than she intended. “Ignore you? Pretend you’re not here?” She turned to face him, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. “You left me, Jack. You walked away without a word.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable, the memory of that day slamming into her like a physical blow.
He took a step closer, his expression raw. “I had to. You know that.” His hands were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “I couldn’t be what you needed.”
“You didn’t even try,” she whispered, the words barely audible over the wind. “You just disappeared.” The hurt had faded into anger over the years, but it was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again. For a moment, they stood in silence, the only sound the howling wind and the distant crash of waves against the rocks. Mara waited for an apology, for some explanation that would make sense of the years he’d vanished. But none came.
“I’m not here to fix things,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away.” His eyes searched hers, pleading, but she didn’t know if it was for forgiveness or just to be seen.
The storm broke then, a torrent of rain that soaked them instantly. Mara didn’t move, letting the cold water seep into her clothes, numb her skin. She wanted to be angry, to push him away, but the sight of him—soaked and standing in the downpour, his hair plastered to his forehead—made her heart ache.
“You’re still the same,” she said, more to herself than him. “Still running from everything.” The words were a challenge, a test. She needed to know if he’d changed, if he’d learned anything in the years he’d been gone.
Jack’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And you’re still the same too,” he said. “Still waiting for someone to come back.” His voice was steady, but there was something vulnerable in his eyes, a crack in his armor.
Mara turned away, the rain blurring her vision. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to see the man she’d loved and lost. But the storm had washed away the last of her resolve. She stepped closer, her breath coming in short bursts.
“What if I don’t want to wait anymore?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m ready to move on?”
Jack’s breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The rain fell harder, the wind howled louder, but none of it mattered. All that existed was the space between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air.
“Then don’t,” he said, his voice steady now. “Don’t wait. Don’t run. Just… be here.” His hand found hers, warm and solid, and for the first time in years, Mara felt something shift inside her. Not a resolution, not yet, but a spark. A possibility.
The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, the world felt still. Mara didn’t know what came next, but she knew one thing: she wasn’t alone anymore.
