Amalia and I walked hand in hand along the beach behind our hotel. The warm soft sand between our toes, the sound of the waves, the chatter of people embracing the sunshine was enough to feel content.

But seeing Amalia under the morning glow was magnificent.

Her skin was illuminated. Her cheeks reflecting soft beams of light. Her freckles were even more prominent and I looked down at her as she angled her face towards the sun and smiled.

And then I looked down at our hands and my heart sped up at how well hers fit in mine. I loved the feeling of our laced fingers.

"What time will you go back to your sister's?" She asked scratching the tip of her nose with her black fingernail.

"Around lunchtime again, I suppose. I'll take something with me."

She nodded and gripped the hem of her skirt when a soft breeze blew it up.

The fabric was thin. It was a blue and white floral pattern with thin straps and a low cut neckline. She was in her element here.

I could tell she loved the beach. She couldn't stop smiling. Even subtle smiles. Ones that lifted the corners of her full soft lips but didn't bare her dimples or teeth.

I loved all versions of her smile.

I wanted to invite her to come with me to see Abby. But I felt like there would be less chance of Abby opening up if it wasn't just us.

There was still more I wanted to know about her condition. Who was the therapist she was seeing? Was she still working? Had she considered rehab?

I needed more answers and I needed her to feel comfortable enough to answer them.

"What should we do with our morning?" I asked, checking my cellphone with my free hand for the time.

It was only eight forty five. We'd had breakfast in the hotel restaurant this time. Sweet of course. I added some bacon strips to my waffles though.

"We should rent some skates and go skating down the strand."

I raised my brows. "Oh."

She pursed her lips and her gaze looked on with amusement twinkling in her dark brown eyes. "There are a couple of rental stores up there. For beach gear and bikes. We should skate. It'll be fun."

I looked over towards the Pier where dozens of tourists and locals were gathered admiring the view of the ocean or casting a line into the water.

Beyond that was The Strand. A walkway with small local owned stores, eateries and boutiques. People were pushing strollers or riding bikes.

We wouldn't be the only ones doing something active but I still hesitated for a moment.

"We don't have to," Amalia squeezed my hand when I didn't answer her straight away.

But I knew she wanted to. So I pushed my small bout of anxiety down and nodded. "We can do that."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm," I smiled and we started up the beach towards The Strand.

It wasn't something I would usually do. I didn't like to draw too much attention but Amalia was right. It might be fun.

We went to a little shack that advertised equipment for hire. We hadn't left the hotel with shoes so that saved us from handing those over to the girl who was working the shack. She took down our details and Amalia paid for skates before I could stop her.

We gave the girl our shoe size and she handed us a pair of skates each.

They were in good condition and for extra comfort we were given a pair of packaged socks each to wear with them.

We sat on a bench seat beside the railing that separated the path from the sand. Amalia was the first to have her skates laced and she stood up, twirling as if she was a seasoned pro.

"Anything you're bad at?" I asked, clutching the seat beside me.

She pretended to think about it for a moment, pursing her lips as she glided from left to right with ease. "Math. I'm average at English as well. Basically anything academic. I'm more of a physical person."

"So we're total opposites then," I laughed.

It was a playful comment but my chest tightened when she stopped skating and her lip dropped.

"Well, I mean—"

I reached out and snatched her hand, pulling her in so her sentence was cut off. She stood between my legs, arms on my shoulders.

"That's not a problem though," I stared up at her. The sun created a halo around her silk smooth hair. "We have the parts that matter in common. Our differences are special too. Those are the things I love about you. You show me so much."

Her chest rose and I felt her finger tips grip tighter on my shoulders before she leaned down and kissed me.

My hand wrapped around the back of her head, her hair was hot, warmed from the sun that was becoming more fierce as the morning went on.

It hadn't evaded me that I'd used the L word. But it was getting harder and harder to swallow that word whenever my heart felt like it was pushing right out of my chest.

Every day I spent with her. Every smile I saw, every conversation we had, every touch, kiss, laugh, bite of her lip, flutter of her lashes, every moment that passed between us made me feel a million new things I've never felt before.

I had the habit of being intense. I'd been like that with Kyla. I fell hard and fast with her too and she was my world until the world put out her candle and she became a light among the stars instead.

But this was different. This wasn't just fast and strong. It was consuming. It was an ocean that threatened to drown me in one swift violent wave and I knew it was coming and I knew I would let it take me, whether I made it back to the surface or not.

It might have been a risk. But when wasn't falling in love? I knew she was worth it.

I slowly started to stand, being careful on my skates while I continued to hold and kiss her.

As I straightened up, I lowered my hand to her waist and tugged her in so her body was against mine and I didn't care who was watching or who took a photo or who said what.

For a moment I just wanted to kiss her so hard that she could taste my feelings for her.

"Just so you know," she said, her forehead against mine as she took a deep harsh breath. "I love our differences too. You're like my own walking google."

I laughed. Loud. She narrowed her gaze at the bright sun as she peered up and I quickly pressed a soft kiss against her gorgeous smile.

Her full smile. Dimples.

"Come on," she slid backwards, lacing our fingers together so I went forward with her.

It wasn't as graceful as her fluid movements. I flailed my free arm and jolted back and forth for a moment.

It was hard not to feel humiliated. My throat felt thick and my cheeks were hot. I stared at the ground and tried not to let it get to me.

No one was watching. They were doing their own thing. Right? Well, people could be watching. People might be videoing. Tabloids. Fans. There might be a headline out tomorrow with a video attached. Max Lahey is a moron that can't skate—"

"You're a natural," Amalia smiled and I came out of my head. We were holding hands and had begun moving down The Strand. My feet moved with good rhythm. Left, right, left, right. "No surprises there though. You are a natural born athlete."

I laughed but kept my gaze straight out ahead and was sure to watch the path so I didn't skate into anyone.

It was busy. But not as busy as it would be in the next hour or two. Most people moved long before we came near them anyway.

I did play football. I was good at it. Not as good as Lucas. But good enough. That didn't equate to natural balance and flow though.

Once we'd been skating for a few minutes and I felt more confident, I peered over at Amalia and felt a flood of appreciation. Her hair flowed out behind her.

Whipping in the breeze as if the wind was ordered to exist for her and her alone. Her expression was so relaxed. So at ease. Her skirt clung to the front of her figure, a second skin. She was jus—

"Shit," my feet went over my head and my back landed on the other side of a solid wooden post with a thud.

My eyes squeezed closed while a dull ache went up my back, winding me.

"Max," Amalia's panicked voice resonated through the ringing in my ears and her shadow moved in front of my closed lids. "Shit, Max. Are you okay?"

My wheezing turned into laughter as I thought about what a shmuck I was.

Too occupied staring at my girl and I landed in a painful heap - no doubt in front of dozens of people - and I was pleased to realise, I didn't care.

My laughter was loud as I rolled on to my side.

"Ooh be careful," her hands held on to my shoulders. "Where does it hurt? Why are you laughing?"

When I finally opened my eyes and landed my sights on her blue and white dress, I slid a hand on to her waist, around her back and I carefully but quickly rolled her onto her back.

She let out an an unexpected squeal as I climbed on top of her and continued to laugh like an idiot.

"Max?!"

"Thank you," I grinned, watching her shocked amusement. Her hair pooled around her head.

"For what?"

"Just for being you," I kissed her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. "I'm falling for you. Literally."

She burst into a fit of giggles and tried to cover her mouth. But I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and put her hand above her head. "Don't hide that from me. Ever."

She recoiled, her grin mischievous. "Damn okay, Papi."

I swallowed and looked up. My distracted gaze moved over The Strand at the families moving and people walking dogs and friends getting breakfast.

Just to remind myself we were in public. I might have been gaining a little bit more confidence as the days went on. But I wasn't going to go that far.

"How long do we have these skates for?" I asked, sitting up so she wasn't lying on the concrete.

"Half n hour."

"Oh," I felt the bruising on my back when I moved. I probably wouldn't be up for too much physical activity as it was right now. "Come on then. Let's go."

It turned out I had a few scrapes and bruises on my back. It was nothing major and would heal up fast but I laughed to myself as I got out of the Uber at Abby's house.

She'd have a ball with this story. Part of me wished someone had captured it on camera. It'd be hilarious to watch back.

I could picture it now. Me watching Amalia while we skate hand in hand and boom, post verses me and I lose.

My little self indulgent laughter trailed off as I came around the corner of the house and saw three cars parked in front of the garage. It could've been nothing.

She invited guests over. That or Flynn was spending time with his friends inside.

Still, I jogged - almost ran - up onto the deck and barged straight inside.

It was quiet apart from the low thrum of a deep voice talking without pause.

I peered into the kitchen and saw Mom standing beside Dad who was on a barstool. His shoulders were hunched and Mom had her arm around him.

They were talking to an older man. He had thin dark hair and wire framed glasses on his lean nose.

I couldn't hear what he was saying but before I could approach and ask, Flynn appeared beside me and I startled.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked.

Mom and Dad peered over at me. Their acknowledgement was obvious but I didn't get a smile or even a small wave. Both of them looked. . . distraught.

"Abby took a turn for the worst last night bro," Flynn folded his arms and exhaled a shaken breath. Upon closer inspection, there was red in his eyes and dark under circles. "She just left."

"Took a turn for the worst how? She seemed . . . good yesterday. I mean, better. She— she was eating. She seemed good!"

"We had dinner last night," he explained with a quiet voice. "She said you'd been to visit and she seemed happier and positive, so I felt positive. We had dinner and that was the first time I'd seen her eat in a while. So I'm thinking, this is good, we're getting somewhere.

"Anyway about fifteen minutes after dinner, I caught her throwing up in the bathroom."

My eyes squeezed shut. The image of it was unbearable and I felt my stomach becoming nauseous.

"She tried to convince me it must have been food poisoning or something like that but her tooth brush was on the floor beside her and the end of it was covered in saliva."

"Shit," I leaned against the kitchen door frame, afraid I was going to spin out. For all I know, she could have done the exact same thing after lunch yesterday. She'd gone to the bathroom while I was there. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it sounded. "So where is she now?"

"She's gone to a treatment facility. Rehab for eating disorders. I called your parents last night because I didn't know what else to do. We got into a huge fight after I caught her being sick. She uh— she broke up with me."

"No man," I stood up straight and shook my head. "No she'll just be mad and upset. I doubt she meant it."

He stared with a distant gaze. Like he wasn't seeing anything in front of him. "I don't think so, Max. Not this time. She's broken up with me about four times in the last month. It sounded serious this time."

I swallowed and felt devastation like I'd never felt before. For Abby. For Flynn. For Mom and Dad.

This wasn't right. None of it was. The older man took his leave and slipped past me so he could head outside. When I turned back to my parents, my heart felt heavy.

Mom stood between Dad's legs while he looked up at her with desperation. "What did I do wrong?" He sobbed. I'd never heard my Dad so broken before. Ever. "What did I do to fail her so fucking bad?"

Mom wrapped her arms around his head and held him close to her chest. She had tears streamlining her cheeks and falling into Dad's hair and watching them was painful. "Nothing, Drayton," her voice quivered. "It's not your fault, Dray. It's not."

His muffled cries came from where his face was buried in Mom's front. "What did I do wrong?"