The salt-kissed air clung to Mara’s skin as she stepped off the creaking dock, her boots sinking into the damp gravel of Harbor’s Edge. The town had not changed—same weathered shingles on the cottages, same rusted fishing nets draped over piers—but the weight in her chest felt foreign, like a stranger’s hands on her ribs. She hadn’t returned in ten years, not since the night the lighthouse burned, and the memory of it still tasted like ash.
The man appeared before she reached the path, his silhouette sharp against the bruised sky. He stood at the edge of the dock, hands in his pockets, watching her as if he’d been waiting for her. Mara froze. His face was a puzzle she couldn’t solve—too familiar, too distant. Then he moved, and the wind caught his coat, revealing the faint scar along his jawline, a mark she’d traced with her lips once, long ago.
“You’re late,” he said, his voice a low rumble that made her knees weak.
She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t coming back.”
He stepped closer, the scent of pine and something sharper—gunpowder, maybe—filling the space between them. “You always were bad at lying.”
The words hung there, raw and unspoken, as if they’d been waiting for this moment. Mara’s fingers curled into her palms. “What are you doing here, Jace?”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Same thing you are. Trying to outrun the past.”
The wind howled, tugging at her coat. She turned away, but the dock creaked behind her. “This place is dead. You know that.”
“I know it’s not.” His hand brushed hers, quick and electric, and she flinched. “You left a piece of yourself here, Mara. I’m here to get it back.”
She didn’t answer. The lighthouse stood in the distance, its beam flickering like a heartbeat. It had been years since she’d last seen it, but the sight of it still made her breath catch. She’d sworn she’d never set foot near it again.
Jace exhaled, a sound like resignation. “You always were stubborn.”
“And you were a fool,” she shot back, but the words lacked their old bite. The air between them was thick, charged, and she hated how her body remembered his touch, how her pulse thrummed in response.
He stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “I didn’t come to fight.”
“Then what did you come for?”
His gaze dropped to her hands, still clenched at her sides. “To see if you still carry the same fire.”
The silence that followed was a living thing, heavy and humming. Mara wanted to run, but her feet felt rooted to the dock. The sea roared in the distance, a constant, relentless sound, and for a moment, she let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—this was a second chance.
Jace turned toward the town, his coat flaring in the wind. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder. “Before the storm hits.”
She followed him, the weight in her chest shifting, lightening. The past was behind them, but the future? That was still theirs to forge.
—
The storm arrived with a fury that shook the town to its bones. Rain lashed the windows of the old inn where Mara had rented a room, and thunder cracked like a whip overhead. She sat by the fire, staring into the flames, her thoughts tangled in the same web they always were: Jace, the lighthouse, the night it burned.
A knock at the door broke her reverie. She opened it to find Jace standing there, soaked and shivering, his hair plastered to his forehead. “Can I come in?”
She stepped aside without a word. He shrugged off his coat, leaving it in a damp pile on the floor, and sat across from her in the wooden chair. The fire cast shadows across his face, making the scar on his jaw look like a wound still fresh.
“You didn’t have to come back,” she said, her voice quiet.
“I know.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But I couldn’t stay away.”
The words settled between them, heavy and unspoken. Mara looked away, focusing on the flickering flames. “You left me, Jace. You walked out when it mattered most.”
His eyes darkened. “I had no choice.”
“You always had a choice.”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand what happened that night.”
“I don’t need to,” she said, her voice brittle. “I saw the fire. I saw the smoke. I saw you disappear into it.”
The silence that followed was a chasm. Jace stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he stood, pacing the small room, his boots thudding against the floor. “You think I wanted to leave? You think I wanted to watch that place burn?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He stopped, turning to face her. “Then let me tell you the truth.”
She hesitated, her heart pounding. “What truth?”
“That I didn’t run. I was trying to save you.”
The words hit her like a blow. She shook her head, denying it before she could process it. “No. That’s not—”
“I found you in the tower, Mara. You were trapped, the flames closing in. I tried to get you out, but the door was jammed. I couldn’t—” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “I couldn’t save you.”
The room felt too small, too suffocating. Mara’s breath came in shallow gasps. “You left me.”
“I tried to bring you out!” he roared, his fists clenching. “But the structure was collapsing! I had no choice but to get you out through the window! I didn’t have time to—”
She flinched at the anger in his voice, at the raw desperation. “You let me burn.”
“No!” He took a step closer, his eyes blazing. “I did everything I could. And when that wasn’t enough, I left so I wouldn’t have to watch you die.”
The words hung there, and for the first time in a decade, Mara felt the walls around her heart crack. She wanted to hate him, to blame him for the years of silence, but the truth was heavier than anger. It was grief, raw and unfiltered.
Jace sank into the chair again, his head in his hands. “I’ve carried that guilt every day since.”
She sat there, silent, the fire crackling between them. The storm raged outside, but inside, everything had stilled. Mara didn’t know what to say, what to feel. All she knew was that the past was no longer a shadow—it was a living thing, and it had found her again.
—
The next morning, the storm had passed, leaving the town drenched and still. Mara stood at the edge of the dock, watching the waves roll in, their rhythm steady and unyielding. Jace joined her, his coat damp from the morning mist.
“You’re going to stay?” he asked, his voice quiet.
She didn’t answer immediately. The lighthouse loomed in the distance, its beam still flickering, a silent sentinel against the sky. “I don’t know,” she said finally.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
She met his gaze, searching for something—forgiveness, answers, maybe just a sign that this was real. “What if I’m not ready?”
“You don’t have to be,” he said simply. “But you can’t keep running from it.”
The words settled in her chest, warm and unshakable. She looked out at the sea, the horizon stretching endlessly before them. The past was behind her, but the future? That was still hers to decide.
Jace stepped closer, his hand finding hers. “Whatever happens next,” he said, “I’m here.”
Mara squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of a thousand unspoken words. The storm had passed, but the tide of their story was just beginning.
—
The lighthouse stood silent, its beam extinguished. Mara and Jace stood at the base, the wind tugging at their clothes. It had been weeks since the storm, and the town was still recovering, but something had shifted between them.
“You’re really leaving?” Jace asked, his voice low.
Mara nodded, her throat tight. “I need to find my own way.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small key, holding it out to her. “The lighthouse is yours now.”
She stared at it, the weight of it impossible to ignore. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he interrupted. “It’s not just a building. It’s a promise.”
She looked up at him, tears pricking her eyes. “What if I fail?”
He smiled, a small, sad thing. “Then you’ll try again.”
The wind carried his words away, but they stayed with her, echoing in her chest. Mara took the key, feeling the metal cool against her palm. The past was behind her, but the future? That was still hers to build.
As she turned to leave, Jace called after her. “Mara?”
She paused, glancing back. “Yes?”
He stepped closer, his hand on her cheek. “No matter where you go, I’ll always be here.”
She leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth. Then she walked away, the key heavy in her pocket, the weight of a new beginning in her heart.
