Page 83 of Sweet Redemption

That dress.

This woman . . .

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks from the passenger seat as we head out of town and toward the bridge into Jersey. She’s a fucking goddess come to life and sitting next to me. One I never expected to see sitting there again.

“Come on now, princess. You’re not really surprised, right?” I glance her way and catch her eyes as they narrow. I missed that look. The one she’d give me when she was trying to act pissed but wasn’t.

I missed being the person she looked at. The last one she saw before she closed her eyes and the first one she saw in the morning when I woke her up with my head between her fucking legs. We only got a few months of living together but it was enough to know that was what I wanted.

That summer was supposed to be the start of everything.

Not the end.

“I said I wasn’t hiding anymore, but I’d never really take your choice away. I thought we could spend tonight figuring it out somewhere a little less Kroydon-Hills-heavy.”

She shakes her head and turns toward the passenger window, trying to hide the smile pulling at her lips.

And why does that one small smile feel like such an important win?

I want to reach across the center console and take her hand in mine.

But that’s not what she needs. Not yet. Tonight is about proving we can still work. That we’re worth fighting for. That we’re not as broken as we were. So I keep both hands on the wheel, hoping this was a good idea and not a nightmare waiting to blow up in my face.

Instead, I let the music fill the silence as we head over the bridge and hop on the Atlantic City Expressway.

“The beach?” she whispers finally. “We’re going to the beach?”

“Yeah. I figured this time of year, the beach is empty, and the restaurants are running on skeleton crews. Why not take advantage of your favorite place?”

“It was,” she says, a cool edge to her voice.

“Still is,” I say quietly, hedging my bet. Because whether she likes it or not, I know this woman.

Serena’s eyes flick my way before quickly going back to the passing highway. “How can you be so sure?”

“A lot of things may have changed, Serena, but your soul didn’t. And your soul was always at peace at the beach.”

We had good memories at the beach.

Seemed like as good a place as any to try to fix what’s broken.

The candle between us flickers as the wind rolls in off the bay while we sit under the awning at our favorite restaurant. We had this place on speed dial the last summer we spent here. The summer before it all went to hell. They’ve redone the deck, refinished the bar, and gotten new tables and removable windows since then, but the guy playing the guitar in the corner is the same. The relaxed vibes are the same. And the lack of anyone we know here is thankfully the same.

I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs until my foot is next to hers. “I heard a rumor . . .”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not nice to gossip?” she teases, pink tinging her cheeks as she runs the tips of her fingers along the edge of her wineglass while she sits silent for a few moments before finally lifting her beautiful face to me.

“Not gossip, exactly. I heard you’re leaving the Revolution.”

Her fingers still, and she stares at the wine for a few long minutes before finally looking back at me. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” I ask, needing to know where her head’s at. Serena always took her time processing things, and I’ve thrown a metric fucking ton her way in the past few weeks.

“This.” She lifts her hand, and gestures between us. “I hate that this is so normal. I hate that all I want to do is break down and tell you everything. I want to ask your opinion. I want you to love my plan. But I also want to protect my heart.”

My chest tightens, knowing I deserve that. But it doesn’t make it suck less.

“And the worst part?” Her voice drops. “I want you to love it. I want you to be excited for me. I want you to tell me it’s perfect.”