I SNUCK OUT OF Weston's house early the following day, sobbing into the New York University tee shirt he lent me as I folded my clothes and shoved them into my suitcase.

Tomorrow, I will leave Clifton.

I'd leave this house and the memories it held.

And I would leave the man across the bay.

Where'd you go? Weston texted an hour later, and I replied, saying I needed some time to myself, but truthfully, I didn't want him to see me crying. He told me he would be over after work, and we'd cook dinner one last time.

"Oh, Honey," Kate attempted to console me over the phone. "Do you still want to come home?"

"Yes," I wiped my nose, staring at the ceiling of the living room.

"Okay, I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Thank you."

The phone hummed as silence lingered between us.

I called my best friend to confirm pick-up times for tomorrow, though the second I heard her voice, tears poured from me. It had been a while since I told her what had happened between Weston and me, the fundraiser, Nora's explosion, and Zoe. But after explaining the abridged version and promising the whole story when we were two bottles deep in wine, she still had many questions.

"You two haven't talked about what will happen when you leave?"

"No, we haven't, and I don't think we will."

"If you like him, then I think it's a conversation worth having, Ives."

I ran my hands down my wet face. Weston and I avoided every opportunity to talk about what was next because neither of us knew. We would be on entirely different sides of the country, and Weston wanted me to move forward, which sounded like he wanted to stay a part of my soon-to-be past.

"It's not like you won't have your parent's house to visit," Kate said earnestly. "Maybe that is why you didn't end up selling it like you'd planned!"

Kate firmly believed that everything happened for a reason and that the universe placed people in each other's lives with a purpose. On the other hand, I constantly questioned my experiences because some things did not seem to have a reason for occurring—like the loss of my parents.

"Maybe, but I still need to sell it. It's like a dead limb, just sucking the life from me."

"Well, we will take care of your dead limb another time. I think you should focus on what your heart needs for once," she paused. "You deserve to be happy, Ivey."

My lip trembled as I told her I loved her and looked forward to seeing her tomorrow.

I spent the afternoon downloading the photos Weston, and I took at the cove, taking a couple more special ones for him, and vigorously cleaning. I even took some time sorting through some of my parent's belongings, placing priceless items in a safe in the basement and some in my bag to take home. Then, I finished my chores by draping the furniture with freshly washed covers, leaving the house exactly how it looked when I arrived weeks ago—except with significantly less dust now.

Weston appeared at my door a quarter till six with grocery bags in hand and Masie.

He held up the reusable bag. "Steaks, potatoes, and veggies. Like the first time."

"Does that mean we are getting wine drunk? Because I've got options."

"Obviously," he said and stepped into the house, following me into the kitchen.

If Weston noticed the covered furniture, he didn't say anything.

We moved around the kitchen easily, listening to the folk music that ebbed from the living room, ignoring the ticking time bomb looming over our heads.

"Did Nora come in today because karma made her sick for acting like a bitch?"

Although I could not see his face, I heard him snort. "Nope, she probably drove forty minutes off the island to be taken care of instead." The cast iron sizzled when he placed the raw meat down. "Zoe swung by, though."

"How's she doing?"

"While we can laugh about what happened yesterday, Zoe can't."

My knife froze mid-chop. "I feel like this is partially my fault, and I shouldn't have entertained Nora for as long as I did."

I was wondering why I went along with the fundraiser. Part of me believed if I got in her good graces, the rumors about me would end, and the town would forgive me for something I should not need to be forgiven for. The maternal praise also felt good at the moment, even if none of it was out of the kindness of Nora's heart.

Weston leaned against the counter and crossed his legs, holding the stem of his wine glass. "It's not your fault. Trust me, whatever is happening between Zoe and Nora has been brewing for a while, and I'm surprised it took this long."

My head shook in disbelief. "I can't believe she came over and said everything yesterday."

"Zoe recorded it all and threatened to share the video with the entire town if Nora said a bad thing about us."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," he said, wide-eyed.

Between Zoe being the daughter of Nora and not understanding her relationship with Weston, my perception was skewed. But after getting to know her, my opinion of her had changed drastically, and I almost felt like I owed her an apology for my judgmental inner thoughts.

She was great and had my back more times than necessary on this trip.

"She's headed back to New York anyway," Weston added.

"That'll be good for her."

The thought of Weston all alone after tomorrow flooded my mind, and I shoved it away.

When dinner was ready, we carried it to the patio and small-talked until we finished one bottle of wine and opened another.

"Oh! I nearly forgot." I dashed into my parent's office to grab the photos I printed from yesterday. "Here," I handed him an envelope, my cheeks reddening at the surprises I had wedged between the pictures of us.

He raised a curious brow. "Are these the photos?"

"Mmhm."

He did not know I had taken extra photos for him, ones that lacked most of my clothes. It was silly, but I figured he would enjoy them when I was gone. His face lit up as he thumbed through the candid photos of us, then turned beat red when he flipped to one of me in the mirror.

"Ivey," he nearly choked.

"Do you like them?"

"I do, I do." He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. "You look so sexy. When did you take these?"

"Today. I don't want you to forget what I look like," I said dramatically.

He paused, tilting his head gingerly. "I will never forget what you look or what they look like." His eyes dropped to my cleavage, and laughter erupted between us. The sound of our joy was short-lived as it turned to a melancholy silence.

The chair screeched against the hardwood. "Come on." We held out his hand.

"Where are we going?"

My unanswered question hung in the air as he guided us to the end of the dock, the solar panel lights attached to the pillars illuminating every step. Despite the dark sky, puffy white clouds drifted above us and glowed in the moonlight,

Weston tugged his shirt over his head and discarded it on the chair.

"Are we swimming?"

The tiny smirk on his face as he reached for his belt told me all I needed to know. When his pants hit the floor, leaving him in his underwear, he reached for the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms and laughed as the cool breeze caressed my torso, then shimmied out of my pants.

"Ready?"

He extended his hand once more; then, we were barreling toward the edge of the dock, exhilaration coursing through my veins as we hovered in the air, then plummeted into the chilly water.

For a brief moment, the world was silent, and only the deep hum of the sea filled my head. My racing thoughts were gone, alongside my worry, while Weston grabbed me and pulled our tumbling bodies together before we surfaced.

"These seem like they're weighing you down," I tugged on his boxers playfully.

"You're right." He played along, wriggling out of his last article of clothing. It made a wet thud when it hit the dock. "Yours seem heavy also. Let me help." His hands found the clasp of my bra, which he slid off effortlessly. His fingers swept over the curve of my hips before he located my panties and tugged them down my thighs, tantalizing.

Shuddering a breath, I said, "I feel so much lighter."

"Agreed."

His nose brushed past mine, causing our lips to graze, but they didn't connect. He did this several times before I realized he was teasing me. So, I teased him back by trailing my finger along the muscles of his navel.

He smiles against my mouth.

"I remember the first night I saw you," he said.

"Oh, really?"

"You had your eyes closed and walked down the dock. All I could remember thinking was, what the hell you were doing and who you were because nobody had lived in this house when I moved in."

My stomach rippled with butterflies, and I fought my smile. "My dad used to make me close my eyes and count how many steps it took to get to the end of the dock. He did it because I was anxious about everything, so he taught me that if I had a plan, I didn't have to be afraid. He would make me close my eyes and walk. I was so worried about falling in the water, but once I learned to count how many steps it took to reach the end, I wasn't afraid anymore."

"That's really sweet."

"Don't get me wrong, it was incredibly annoying at times because everything became a lesson, but looking back on everything he taught me, I'm really thankful."

"I can't picture you anxious."

My eyes widened. "Seriously? It's always pure anxiety in here." I knocked on my head.

"You hide it well."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"What are you anxious about now?" He asked.

I contemplated telling him the truth, then decided there was no point in not telling him how I felt like Kate said. So, in a quiet voice, I answered, "Leaving you."

He stared at me, rubbing soothing strokes down my back.

"Are you really staying in Clifton?" I added.

"For now."

"For now? What does that mean?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what it means, but I don't want to give you false hope and say that I may leave."

"But the people are terrible."

He tried looking happy, but he could not wholly hide his dejection. "I can't up and move right now."

Of course, he can't. How stupid of me to have thought he could quit his job and leave with me. I had an entire life built in Washington, waiting for me to return, and all he had was Clifton.

"What if I stayed?"

"I would never ask you to do that."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped stroking my skin and guided us to the ladder connected to the dock. I sat on the step, covering my chest as he floated in front of me with unbreaking eye contact.

"It will be okay, Ivey, I promise. I'm incredibly thankful we had each other all these weeks because you kept me afloat more than I could imagine. But you have a life you need to return to, and that life isn't here."

Tears were streaming down my face. "Is this it then?"

He shrugs. "Who knows? Life brought us together, and it may bring us together again, but all I'm saying right now is to not change all of the plans you've made just because our paths don't align." He brought my knuckles to his lips, kissed me, and then brushed over the same spot. "Just get back to Washington, and we'll see what happens from there, okay?"

He may have only given me a tiny sliver of hope, but I still felt my heart lurch from my chest and latch onto the words with all its might.

"Okay," I breathed.

When we crawled into my bed that night after a hot shower, he made love to me slowly. As I rested my head on his chest, I etched the drumming of his heart into my mind until it was a melody I could play on repeat.

"Do you want me gone before you wake up?" he asked into the darkness.

"Do you think it will be easier?"

He was quiet for a second. "I'm not sure."

"Do what feels right."

He pulled me closer into the crook of his body, even though I was already as close as I could get, and gently kissed my lips.

For a while, I entertained myself with what-ifs: What if Weston stayed? What he if came with me? What would my life look like with him suddenly in it? What if we tried long-distance? What would life have been like if I had met him somewhere else?

Leaving Clifton was hard enough after my parents passing. However, I knew nothing was left for me here, so the pain wasn't unbearable. But now, that painful feeling was immersed inside of me, and it was because of Weston.

As if on cue, my heart reminded me of the tiny bit of hope I had to hold onto—"We'll see what happens." His words were comforting enough that my eyes finally closed, and sleep consumed me.

Still, when my alarm went off in the morning, and I reached for the opposite side of the bed only to find it cold, his words suddenly weren't enough to dull the ache I assumed would be in my chest for a long time.

With my keys and bag in hand, I gazed up at the house, which stared back at me with bittersweet eyes.

It appeared much different than when I arrived.

The beige grime was gone, power-washed off to reveal the white paneling hidden beneath. The carmine door was now a brilliant red, even in the dull morning light. The vines were tamed, the overgrown bushes were trimmed, weeds were plucked from between the brick path, and every nail was hammered into place on the dock.

It looked like life was breathed back into the structure, as if my parents had been here all along.

But that wasn't true, because my parents had not been here in a long time.

They have been with me in Washington, on my work adventures, during lonely holidays, at my photo or journal exhibitions, and out on the boat with me and my camera.

I didn't have to be here to be close to them because they were everywhere.

Even though I didn't accomplish what I wanted to with the house, I learned many new lessons. So I turned around and began counting one, two, three... and just like that, Clifton was my past again. 

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The novel is coming to an end folks, are you ready? I planned for this story to be a shorter and sweet novel, maybe in the future I'll lengthen it but for now hold onto Ivey & Wes <3 

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