We didn't see Rys's parents much after that first night in Marfolk. Fiona and Isaac gave us privacy as promised and only invited us to have some drinks the following day.

My last day here felt like the end of a dream. As Rys and I sat to have breakfast in the sun-soaked dining room, my heart felt heavy, unlike my shoulders that finally straightened without the weight of self-doubt and lack of direction in life.

Across from me, Rys sighed, reaching for the brown sugar he'd only put on the table because of me. I left my croissant on the plate. "Rys?"

"Hmm?"

"You said coffee tasted awful with sugar in it."

Brows drawn together, he pushed the sugar away. "I said lots of things."

He had too much to worry about. His dad's surgery was in a few days, and Rys needed to travel to Berlin before that. It'd be an eventful week for him, and one worthy to be included in a survival guide for me. Getting used to him was effortless. Getting over him would require lots of strength. And, most likely, tears.

On cue, my eyes burned. I peered into my mug and quickly brought it to my lips. Rys's vibrating phone was a distraction that allowed me to breathe deeply and pretend everything was alright.

He typed a reply to the text or email he received and rested his cell on the table. "Mom says hello. She also told me to wish you good luck with your studies in Milan."

"Thank your mom for me," I said. "And wish her luck with the events next month."

Fiona ran a successful flower business. According to her, summer was the busiest time of the year because of weddings, and she mentioned a few that would take place at luxury venues made for at least a thousand guests.

With a nod, Rys picked up his phone and answered, while I finished my lukewarm coffee and the croissant I couldn't enjoy like I wanted to because of the emotions lodged in my throat.

"What would you like to do today?" Rys's question sliced through the tension-filled air. "Other than packing."

I didn't want to pack, but it'd be even harder to stand the sight of an open suitcase tomorrow. I placed my empty mug on a pile of plates to take them to the dishwasher. "We could walk in town. And I think I know what I could do with all the seashells I found on the beach."

He rose from the chair. "Good. A walk it is."

***

The familiarity of the cobbled streets of Marfolk, its tiny stores, and the beach intensified the burning pressure in my chest. That Rys barely spoke only made the atmosphere more solemn. It felt as if we'd already started saying goodbye, and I hated the distance that sadness put between us.

As we left The Wave after lunch, Rys slowed his steps at the marina. "I'm handling this like crap."

He steered me toward the steps leading to the beach. Unlike other days, there were plenty of spots for us to sit. Vacation must've come to an end for lots of people, but the thought failed to comfort me.

I leaned against Rys's chest, and his arms snaked around my waist, enclosing me in a safe cocoon.

"I'm not handling our last day well, either," I said over the rumbling waves. "It's such a shame to waste it, but I can't help feeling..."

Rys buried his nose in my hair. "Sad."

"Yeah."

"When are you going to give the rental key to the owner?"

"The soon-to-be-ex owner, you mean. I know you're buying it from her as soon as the papers are ready."

Rys traced circles on my belly with his thumb. "I wasn't keeping it a secret on purpose. I just didn't know how to explain my reasons for buying it without disclosing the sad truth about my past, and I didn't want to lie."

"So, your plan isn't to turn it into a rental?"

Rys moved his fingertips up toward my breasts, then he gently brushed them over my collarbone. "Not really. I think Mom wants to have it because of everything it means to her and my father. I bought my house when Dorothy was still alive, although her health deteriorated so much she barely recognized her family, let alone me."

Sad memories of my grandparents' last years came to the forefront of my mind. "Alzheimer's?"

"Yes. I bought the property next door because of the location, but also for my parents if they ever wanted to stay in Marfolk and have more privacy than at a hotel. I think my mother was hesitant to buy Dorothy's place because of me. That's why I, not my father, talked to her granddaughter."

"Hesitant because of you?"

Rys rubbed the ends of my hair between his fingers. "I didn't make it easy for her when we ended up here. And I was a little asshole with Isaac at first. I'd lock myself in the bedroom and refuse to leave because I knew if I did, he'd take her—and me—for a walk. He'd buy me ice cream and make my mother laugh. In my seven-year-old mind, it meant it was only a matter of time before he made her cry too. Like my birth father did."

I turned in Rys's arms and kneeled in front of him, bracing my forearms on his shoulders. "I can't blame you for not trusting him at first. After seeing your mom suffer, you didn't want her to go through heartbreak again."

A shadow of sadness crossed his face. "Pretty much. But I underestimated how much my mother meant to Isaac. When they got together, he made sure she could finish her studies and set up her business. For the first time, she had her bank account with enough money in it that she could leave if she wanted to. He once told me loving someone meant wanting what's best for them, even if they didn't choose you."

"But your mom chose him."

"Pure luck, in my father's words." Rys ran his palms up and down my legs, warming my skin the breeze had cooled. "I'm glad she ended up with him."

"Did it take you long to admit it?"

"A few years of seeing him make her happy and some therapy."

His night confession aside, this was the longest Rys had talked about himself, and I soaked up every word, greedy to learn more.

A blast of salty air from the ocean ruffled the skirt of my sundress, raising gooseflesh across my skin.

Rys brushed his lips over my cheek. "Guess it's time for us to go home."

***

Packing didn't take long despite my reluctance to see my things disappear from Rys's closet and shelves. We worked side by side. Him, putting neatly folded clothes he needed for his two-day trip to Germany, and me doing the same for my return to Wickhampton. I'd meet Gabby in the evening to give back the key. After that, Rys and I would have one last night together.

Rys zipped his small black suitcase and put it by the door. "I've got everything. Need help?"

"No. I'm almost done."

He tipped his chin toward the small mountain of seashells on the comforter. "What about those?"

I stood from the bed and picked up a shopping bag I'd left beside it. "I got this canvas the other day. I have something in mind. I think it'll look great."

Rys's gaze darted from the bag to his ringing phone.

"Excuse me," he muttered, grabbing it. "I need to take this."

By the time he finished talking, I'd sketched a heart and started to fill it with seashells, gluing them to the canvas. Rys sat by my side quietly, watching me work. After a few minutes, he took the glue and a small seashell from the pile. "Can I try?"

"Sure," I said. "Press hard so it doesn't fall off before it sticks."

"Pressing hard. Got it."

Watching him do crafts with a focused frown put a smile on my face. I wasn't sure why he wanted to help when he surely had lots of last-minute details to figure out before his business trip, but Rys didn't leave his spot on the bed until we glued the last seashell. I framed the canvas and let it dry on the bedside table.

"It looks decent," I said.

Rys's throat went up and down with a swallow. "Looks great. You need to hand in the key now, right?"

"Yeah. Gabby must already be there."

"Okay. I'll wait here."

I did the familiar route between Rys's place and the rental in barely two minutes. Gabby was already in the driveway, watching me walk toward her with a radiant smile.

"Hope you enjoyed your stay here," she said. "You helped me out big time, so thank you."

"I'm the grateful one. I wouldn't have had this vacation if it weren't for you."

I wouldn't have met Rys, taken part in the crafts fair, or entertained the idea of going away to study.

"Here's the key." I gave it to Gabby, hating the tremor in my hand. "Good luck with your restaurant."

"Thank you." She sighed. "My grandma always told me to go for my dreams. It's a shame she's not here to see me do it. I wouldn't be able to go for it without her house, though. Anyway, have you got your things?"

All of them were at Rys's place, and I answered Gabby with a nod. "I have. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Hope you visit Marfolk again."

"Me too. Goodbye, Gabby."

She waved at me, and I strolled back to Rys's house, purposefully slowing my steps. The clock was ticking away the hours way too fast, and I feared that if I quickened my strides, the rest of our time together would pass in a blur.

Not spotting Rys in the living room, I went straight for the bedroom and came to a halt in the doorway.

Scattered over the carpet and bed were red rose petals. The wicks of a few lit candles trembled as Rys drew closer and wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"Come here."

I hugged his neck, molding my body against his, and finally relaxed as he held me until our lips touched, and what started as a gentle caress of our mouths turned into us devouring each other.

Our clothes landed on the carpet. Some of the rose petals stuck to my skin as Rys laid me on the bed and kissed my breasts. When he brushed his mouth over my tattoo, I pressed my fingertips to the same word on his skin.

He glanced up at me and went on to kiss every inch of my stomach and hips. When he gently nudged my legs apart with his hands, I opened them for him. A shudder passed through my body at the feeling of his tongue on my clit. The steady rhythm of his licks and kisses would tip me over the edge in no time. I reached down and buried my fingers in Rys's hair.

"Rys. I need..."

He curled a palm around my hip, stroking it. "What do you need?"

"You up here." I grabbed his hand and tugged.

As soon as he lay beside me, I tossed my leg over his hips and straddled him. Rys squeezed his eyes shut when I rocked against his cock. "Lyra."

His voice came out strained. I bent my head and skimmed the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip. Rys tried to kiss me, but I straightened and reached for the condoms he'd left on the nightstand. When I tore one packet open and scooted back to put a condom on Rys, he propped a bent arm under his head, attentively watching my every move.

"I stopped you," I said, rolling the thin latex down his length, "because I really need to fuck you."

"Go ahead," Rys rasped.

I lifted myself off him enough to guide him inside me. My core stretched around his cock, and I rocked back and forth several times, trying to find a comfortable angle.

"Fuck," Rys muttered. "I love it when you do that."

I leaned forward until my lips hovered over his. "You do?"

He fisted my hair and yanked me down. Our mouths clashed, and I swallowed a surprised gasp at the intensity of his kiss. Rys tilted his hips up, getting even deeper inside me. "I do."

There was something addictive about being in charge of his pleasure and mine. The more I moved — back and forth, up and down — the more he responded to me with sexy groans and quiet curses. When the pressure in my lower belly verged on being painful, I rubbed my clit, keeping my eyes on Rys.

"Keep touching yourself like that." He palmed my ass. "Don't stop."

My pleasure crested until I had no choice but to surrender. The first spasm made me choke on a sob; the consecutive ones triggered Rys's release. He wrapped me in his arms as he let go, and I collapsed on top of him, trying to get a lungful of air.

Rys kissed my lips. "You're amazing."

"Let me guess," I mumbled, eyes closed. "You're saying that because you're hoping for round two."

His exhale gusted against my face. "Sex has nothing to do with it. I just want you to remember who you are."

He slipped out of me, got rid of the condom, and covered us both with a sheet.

I tucked my face in the crook of his neck and nestled into him like I'd done lots of times. Whoever said a month was enough to form a habit was unfortunately right. Thoughts about this night being our last night together crept in, but I pushed them away and hugged Rys's waist tighter.

He sighed, moving his hand over my back in circles. "I'll miss you, mi cielo."

***

In the morning, we woke up together. Made love. Showered. Rys smiled when he saw me pull my girl power panties up my legs, and I put on the same frayed shorts I wore when we met. He went to the kitchen while I blow-dried my hair. When I was done, I packed the few remaining things and joined him by the kitchen island.

"I made you something for the road," he said, sliding a brown bag toward me. "Just some sandwiches. It's a long drive."

I kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'll definitely stop somewhere to eat if only to delay going home."

Rys pushed a strand behind my ear. "That'd be alright. But I was thinking I could drive you."

"You'd miss your flight, Rys."

He shrugged, heading to the coffee maker. "I could take the company jet."

An ache spread through my chest, making it painful to breathe. He was trying to delay the inevitable because he wasn't ready. Neither was I, but a few more hours with him would make saying goodbye even harder.

I walked up to Rys and kissed him through his shirt. "Thank you, but you don't have to. Think about the environment."

He gave me a mug with steaming coffee. "As you wish."

We had breakfast in silence. After Rys put everything away, I grabbed the small burgundy box from a stool and extended my hand. "This is for you. Hope you like it, but you absolutely don't have to wear it."

Rys untied the bow and opened the lid.

A smile jotted across his lips. "Wow."

He pulled out the leather bracelet and put it on his wrist, clasping it with ease. It fit perfectly like I hoped, and satisfaction bloomed in my chest, temporarily erasing the sadness.

"Thank you." Rys whispered, gathering me in his arms.

I blinked away the tears threatening to spill. "We better go."

***

In less than ten minutes, all my belongings were in my car. Rys held me in his driveway, caressing my hair.

"You can still change your mind about me taking you home," he said.

"It would disrupt your day and your trip. I love driving, Rys. It's okay."

"Could you do something else for me, then?"

I kissed his jaw. "Sure."

"Text me when you're home so I know you're okay."

"I will."

He gripped my chin, making me lift it, and brushed his mouth over mine. "Thank you."

Nothing prevented me from getting into the car other than my heart that clung to each second I could spend with Rys, but I couldn't postpone leaving forever.

After another deep kiss, I stepped back and faked a smile that someone who knew me as well as Rys probably wouldn't believe. "It's time to go. Good luck with your trip, and hope your dad's surgery goes well."

Rys nodded. "Thank you. Good luck with your school application. They'll be honored to have you."

"Fingers crossed."

I couldn't resist kissing him once more. Rys squeezed my fingers before I slipped my hand from his and he walked me to my car.

He opened the door for me, and I got in.

"Drive safe," he whispered, kissing my forehead.

The door closed with a sense of heartbreaking finality. I started the engine and drove onto the road while Rys stayed in the driveway, handsome and imposing in his tailored suit. His figure got smaller and smaller until I was too far to see him. It was like our relationship was fading away, leaving an assortment of colorful summer memories made of heartfelt confessions and soft kisses behind. Knowing our story had to end didn't mean my heart was ready to accept it.

I dug my nails into the leather of the wheel and blew out a breath, but now that I was alone, faking was impossible.

A sob came from within my chest, and hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I cried for the thirty days that wouldn't come back and for so many other days with him that would never happen.

No more walks on the beach. No more dinners on the moonlit patio. No more nights in his arms. No more making love.

It wasn't about sex for him, and it was never about sex for me. It was so much more than physical pleasure. Somehow, we forged a deep, meaningful, beautiful something in just a month, and it could've become so much more if time was on our side, but our love had an expiration date.

More tears fell, and I did nothing to stop them.

Not when I left the coast behind. Not when I stopped at a random gas station to eat the food Rys had made with such care.

Not when I saw a piece of my favorite chocolate cake in the bag he'd given me.

Hours later, my eyes were sore and red. I looked like a mess driving into Wickhampton, but a shower would help.

My mother was waiting for me, and chances of avoiding a confrontation were slim, but for the first time, dread didn't hold me hostage.

I didn't bother stopping to brush my hair or apply makeup before unlocking our gates, but as my car rolled down the driveway, I sat straighter.

My pulse skyrocketed. What the hell?

People gathered by the house. Judging by their attire, they came to a party. One my mother forgot to mention.

I killed the engine and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. Did I forget about someone's birthday? Did Dad buy a hotel and decided to celebrate?

There was only one way to find out.

I got out of the SUV and strolled toward the commotion. The crowd was so dense people were nothing but a blur of colorful cocktail dresses and dark suits.

But as I came closer, voices quieted. My gaze darted between unfamiliar faces until it landed on my mother's.

She stared at me, undoubtedly because of my appearance. Dad was nowhere to be seen, but I spotted Brock's parents, who waved at me with too much enthusiasm.

A high pitched sound grated my eardrums. I staggered back at the sight of a mariachi band. Tanned men with smiling faces played their instruments and oohs and aahs drifted from the onlookers congregating next to my family home.

The Spanish song made my heart bleed, especially because I recognized the word Rys whispered in my ear.

Cielo.

Mi cielo.

Cielo means sky, and Rys said you were his.

I blinked, but the nightmare was still there.

The band. The noise. The people.

And Brock, holding a huge bouquet of roses and grinning at those watching the show.

I tried to breathe, but something heavy sat on my chest.

The melody slowed. Brock got down on one knee.

My throat dried from my hastened breaths. This made no sense. Not after I ignored his texts. Especially not after texting him we needed to talk as soon as I got back. How could I be so blatantly ignored?

"Will you marry me, babe?"

Expectant stares fixated on me, and I shivered, wishing I was still in Marfolk.

Brock scowled. The music faded.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gaudy ring that I'd never choose to wear. It'd look huge on my finger, but probably not as big as my disgust at the stunt Brock had pulled.

He never loved me. He didn't know me, and he never would.

Another second had passed. I opened my mouth to reply and tell him to stop and go away, but words got stuck in my parched throat.

Brock jumped to his feet. My knees wobbled, but he squeezed me in a hug. Loud, obnoxious laughter echoed around me.

Brock turned around and fist-pumped the air.

"She said yes!"

Thank you for your patience. It was hard to write...

What are your thoughts? So much to unpack in one chapter...

Love,

Alwyn