Chapter 3: The Road to Heartbreak

I’d just finished packing when thunder rolled across the clear sky, and the rain started pounding down out of nowhere.

People from the beach rushed inside, the lobby filling with the smell of wet towels, salt, and sand clinging to everyone’s ankles. The front desk clerk muttered about ruined rugs and tourists.

I stepped into the elevator—and ran right into Ethan.

He glanced at my suitcase and smirked. “It’s pouring out—where are you going?” His voice was smug, like my pain was a joke to him.

“Back to Chicago.”

I moved toward the door. Ethan grabbed my wrist, his fingers cold and tight. “Natalie, Aubrey and I are just faking it. Is it really worth getting jealous?”

His voice oozed mockery.

He leaned in. “Your mom’s gone. Nobody loves you but me. Stop making a scene.”

Rage and grief crashed over me. Tears spilled down my cheeks. His words burned, making it hard to breathe, my vision blurring with hurt.

I ripped my arm free and walked out, not looking back. The rain hit my skin like a slap, mixing with my tears.

Just as I reached the curb, a black Tesla screeched to a stop. The window rolled down. Ethan’s arrogant face stared out.

“Get in. You have asthma—you’ll get sick. I’ll drive you to the airport.”

I eyed the downpour, hesitated, then slid into the cold, familiar leather seat. For a split second, I let myself remember when things were simple.

He leaned over, buckling my seatbelt, his voice suddenly soft, almost coaxing.

“Natalie, don’t overthink. Aubrey’s like a sister—there’s nothing between us.”

He forced a laugh. “Have you picked a honeymoon yet? Maui? Didn’t you always want to go snorkeling?”

I just stared out the window. Raindrops chased each other down the glass, blurring everything.

He started the car, raising his eyebrows. “There’s a new seafood spot on Tybee Island. After we’re married, I’ll take you.”

A bitter smile flickered across my lips.

The word “seafood” hit me with a rush of briny air and Old Bay, dragging me back a decade. Back then, Tybee meant crab legs at The Crab Shack, sand between our toes, and Ethan’s laugh echoing over the marshes. I fell into the ocean once, and Ethan jumped in after me—nearly died for it. He was in a coma for a day. I think that’s when I really fell for him. The smell of Old Bay, Ethan’s laughter, the shock of cold water—all of it still sharp in my memory.

But after seven years, I finally saw it: the love Ethan gave me was grand, but empty. A beautiful lie. And I clung to it, year after year. That truth sat heavier on my chest than the storm outside.