𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

For the millionth time of the night, our table at the outdoor restaurant disturbs the parties around us.

We've gotten past the point of apologizing for our loudness. It's Chris and Jabari's fault, those two together can't shut up once they get started. Then you have JB with that Bernie Mac laugh, and sprinkle Andy in there, who's just egging them on.

Drinks are flowing, we've upgraded to double shots just because our waiter convinced us to.

My phone rings on the table. I try to ignore it, laughing at Chris's last joke, but it continues ringing. I swear it's getting louder.

"You gonna get that?" Madi asks me.

I cut my eyes from her and put my phone under my thigh.

There, I think in my head. It stopped.

Chris, after finishing the liquor in his glass, locks our fingers together.
I smile at the warm feeling this brings me, and look around the table at all of my friends. While not everyone could make it, it makes my heart happy to see that my fiancé is surrounded by so much love.

AJ has flaws, he snaked Chris before, but he respects him immensely.

Jabari and Chris might've hit a rough patch not that long ago, but they're brothers, they bounced back like nothing ever happened.

Lee isn't Chris's first option, but he'll be a groomsmen without a doubt. He's proven to be a ride-or-die friend, and that's what we need.

Andy is the Golden Retriever Chris never asked for, but is happy to have. He's definitely been a bright spot for Chris, on and off the clock. Because he's Nick Adams' brother, I knew he'd be trustworthy and loyal. While Andy may not have "been in the trenches" with Chris like the rest of these guys, I'm sure he would jump at the chance to defend him and earn his spot. Hell, he's already the self-proclaimed best friend.

"—Right, babe?" I only catch the end of what Chris just said.

I'm taken out of my head and tune back into the conversation quickly.

"Umm.." I stall since I didn't hear the question.

Chris is in the middle of repeating himself when my phone rings in the chair.

I curse under my breath for not turning off the ringer the last time.

"Nevermind," Chris says, letting me take my hand away from his.

I excuse myself from the table to go answer the phone.

Once I'm finally further down the beach, I accept the call.

"What do you want, Ben?!" I whisper yell.

"How'd you know it was me?" He asks, trying to be cheeky.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait, please don't! I have to tell you something!" He pleads.

I shake my head, pacing around in the sand.

"You have three seconds!" I demand through gritted teeth.

I look over my shoulder to keep an eye on Chris at the table; he's still occupied with drinks and jokes.

For some reason, I feel like I'm being watched or targeted - like Ben's going to pop up out of nowhere at any second.

"Hurry up, Ben." I rush him.

"How have you been?" His small talk makes me roll my eyes back in my head.

"Bye-"

Ben interjects to say, "I think you should stay away from Chris. He can't save you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He hesitates to answer. "Get back with me, and I'll take you away from all of this."

"You're lucky I don't have him beat your ass. Goodbye, Ben. Don't call this number again."

"I—" I end the call without hearing another syllable from Ben. And I don't regret it, not a single part of me wants to know what bullshit he could've possibly uttered next. I'm glad to be done with him.

Here I was thinking for a split second that maybe he was right and I was in some sort of danger, but no, it was just a sad attempt at getting (back) with me.

✕

The next morning

"Chris!" I call his name through the beach house.

I flail my arms hopelessly as I track down my fiancé.

With no sign of him, I continue trying to zip up my dress but fail again.

"Ugh," I smack my lips, "baby! Can you help me? I—"

I cut myself off when I see Chris out on the deck, pacing while talking on the phone.

Initially, I think it's just business; probably Lydia calling to worry him about some blueprints or something.

Rolling my eyes, I take a step closer to the open door and wave for his attention.

Chris puts his finger up at me to tell me to wait so I do.

"—New England? I mean, I guess I don't have a say, do I? No, no, I'm excited. Yeah, maybe I will come visit. Alright, yeah, okay. You too, thanks. Of course. Anytime. Bye." Chris rambles on the phone.

He stands under the sun with his shirt unbuttoned and four inch beach shorts low on his waist.

Kissed by the sun, Chris sports an evenly bronzed tan for his twenty-eighth birthday. It looks good on him.

He assists me in zipping up my dress. This triggers some taunts from the guys.

"After playing dress-up, why don't you go mop the floors and braid each other's hair?" AJ teases Chris from the sand just a few feet away.

"AJ, your dick is out." I say just to mess with him and he falls for it.

"What an idiot." Chris and I mumble in unison.

Chris rolls his eyes and then holds me in his arms.

He lets out a deep breath and squeezes my body tightly.

I rest my head back on his chest and exhale, too.

"Thank you for this." Chris says before kissing my cheek.

"You don't have to thank me, baby. Happy birthday." I coo, looking out where the sky meets the ocean.

"Aye," Jabari's loud mouth ruins the illusion of paradise. "You gone sit up there, trading period stories, or you gonna come play some ball?"

"It's called romance, J, I don't expect you to know anything about it," Chris snaps back.

I giggle, walking out of Christopher's embrace.

"You can go," I tell him with a soft smile.

He kisses me again and then runs down to the beach in the backyard.

"Win for me!" I shout.

With my chin in the palm of my hands, I watch the five men horse around in a game of football.
Andy and Jabari had to fight over who was going to be on Chris's team until Chris decided to just team up with Lee and Adriel since they're the weaker athletes.

I shake my head at their playful, yet competitive, shit talking, and push off of the rail, ready to head inside and escape the searing sun.

Chris's phone gets my attention, though, lighting up with a notification and that iconic iPhone 'ding.'

Figuring he'll be playing, I think to take the phone inside.

Once back in the bedroom, where I put the hot phone on the charger, I see another text notification. It's from Marsha.

The name rings a bell but I wasn't fully positive so I let curiosity get the better of me and opened the phone.

To my regret, I scroll through the text thread and see picture mail of Hayes, Chris's son. No matter how hard I try to forget it, Chris has a child. It's something I swept under the rug and haven't thought about, but he's always going to be there- in Chris's life. I'm stupid for thinking he wouldn't support his child for my sake.

The ocean is fucking deadly, I don't think anyone thinks about it enough. I mean, really think about it: it just sweeps you away and sucks you under. When it's angry enough, it can destroy whole cities. Only five percent of the ocean has been discovered by humans because the ocean doesn't want to be discovered. It's mysterious, downright terrifying.

I don't know how people listen to ocean sounds to fall asleep. I'm sitting here on the rooftop deck with Izzy, trying to read and tan, but all I can do is look out at those who are brave enough to venture out into the treacherous waves. Each crash against the shore riddles me with anxiety.

"Morgan?" Isabella's voice suddenly rings in my ears.

"Oh, huh?" I stammer, tearing my eyes away from the beach.

"I said what page are you on of that book? You like it? It's next on my list." She talks, drowning her porcelain skin sunscreen.

I put the book to the side and lie down under the sun.

"Okay," Izzy pries, "what's going on? You didn't talk at brunch, now you're completely ignoring me?"

"Relaxing, Isabella, you should try it." I make up, closing my eyes under a designer pair of shades.

She laughs slightly. "What's on your mind?"

My eyes blink open but I remain reclined on the patio lounge chair.

"Sometimes I wonder if this is really worth it," I confess.

"If what's worth it?" Asks Izzy.

"This. The trips, the facade that we're actually fucking happy all the time."

"No one's happy all the time, Morgan. I'm not even happy half the time."

"Pfft. It's just, nothing is what it seems. The ocean isn't some happy home to Ariel and a bunch of singing fish, and my relationship isn't picture-perfect..." my voice trails off.

"Morgan, tell me what this is about-"

"Chris's son is real and a part of his life and I can't change that. He said he loves him, I saw the texts."

"Oh, I-" I cut Izzy off again.

"I tried to accept his son, I tried hating him, I even tried to forget he existed." I pause to sniffle and end up laughing at myself.

"Sabrina beat me to it. I won't be able to give Chris his first child. I can't give him anything. All he does is fight for me and I do nothing but sit back and cry and wait for him to sweep me off my feet at the end of the day and say he loves me because I'm the last person on Earth who thinks you can actually fucking fix anything by fucking loving it. It's not healthy how much I love Chris. I'm angry at myself for wanting him to choose me over his first born, Izzy. I hate myself for it, but this is one thing I don't think I can get over. No matter how much I love him."

I appreciate Izzy for letting me vent without interrupting or throwing generic, optimistic advice in my face. I've taken that advice before, look where it's gotten me.
Love is a four letter word that I once thought was a cure-all. It's not. It's just a feeling when you don't know any better. They don't say "intelligently in love" or "sober on love."

"Hey girls!" Madi's voice suddenly appears.

She switches before us in an unflattering high-cut bikini, platform SHEIN flip flops, rounded sunglasses, and bucket hat.

"What are we talking about?" She asks, taking a seat at my feet.

There's an oblivious grin on her face that won't go away, not even after Izzy and I ignore her.

Silence passes for another couple of minutes before Izzy tosses a bottle of sunscreen in my lap.

My eyes roll on cue.

"Help me out, babes?" She squeaks with her sunburnt back turned to me, assuming I'm going to give her hand.

Isabella, knowing me well, sees the look on my face and decides to do something before I can.

"Uh," she stammers, gathering her things to stand. "come on, Madi, I think I heard there's going to be a sandcastle building contest on the beach or something."

I forgive her horrendous excuse of a lie since it gets Madi out of my hair. They both slap their beach towels over their shoulders and tell me they'll see me later.

"Be easy on yourself." Izzy talks in my ear during our hug.

✕

If it weren't for the deafening rap music, I probably would've stayed asleep on the rooftop.

How long has it been?

I stretch and sit up in the chair, looking out at the beach. It's definitely cleared up since when I first got up here.

The sun's slowly making its exit, casting golden hues over the feet-imprinted sand.

The door swings open but I keep staring ahead at the surfers who don't care what time of day it is, because waves don't sleep, and they can catch one at any time.

"Izzy said you'd still be up here." Chris's deep voice demands my attention.

I unhurriedly roll my eyes up his body and stop at his.

Saying nothing, I just swallow, and remain seated as I watch beach goers run in and out of the giant body of water.
It's much calmer now than earlier. The water isn't still, but there's a gentleness to it all of a sudden as if it's retiring with the sun for the evening as well.

"Walk with me?" Chris asks.

✕

We've been walking for endless minutes but I've just now realized Chris and I are stepping at the same time with the same foot. He laughs at this, trying to get me, too, but I can't.

I ignore the grains of sand uncomfortably wedging between my damp toes, and stroll along, quietly.

"It's still my birthday." Chris says, stepping through the water as it washes over his feet.

"What'd you wish for?" I ask him, not picking my head up.

"I wish you'd talk to me. I haven't heard from you all day." Chris lets out, nudging me playfully.

I stumble to the left just a bit but bounce back without even a slight smile.

"We're talking now." I tell him, shrugging.

"Well," he stops to clear his throat. "I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but-"

Chris cuts himself when a rock gets his attention.

He chucks it over top of the water instead of saying whatever it is that was weighing on him. I watch the rock skip effortlessly as if it was racing the surface to the horizon.

"What?" I ask, standing in his giant shadow.

Chris laughs, casting another stone.

He looks at me over his shoulder and then says, "Nothing. It's nothing."

I grab his arm before he can use it again, and look into his eyes.

"Tell me." I insist.

Chris, dropping the stones from his hand, sighs.

"Marsha texted me today; she, uh, sent me some pictures of Hayes. He's eight months old. Can you— I can't believe it. I know it's hard for you, but," his voice trails off as if he doesn't want to go on. Selfishly, I wish he wouldn't.

"But what?" I smack my lips, arms flailing.

"Nevermind."

"No, go on, please tell me all about her son." I say, stomping away.

"He's my son, too, Morgan." Chris's voice raises. It makes me turn on the heels of my bare feet to face him.

I nod my head, holding back tears. All I can do is look to the water. It's pooled around my feet, wading in and out almost as if it's nudging me, trying to get me closer to Chris.

"I can't pretend it doesn't still bother me. I've been trying to sweep it under the rug, but he's real - he's yours. And he's not just going to go away, at least not for the next eighteen years. I can, though."

"Morgan-" Chris falters, reaching for my hands but I put them in the air.

I scoff. "I can't make you choose, and I can't make you keep pretending you don't want him, or ask you to hide that part of your life away from me. He doesn't deserve that, neither do I."

"I can have a relationship with the both of you, Morgan."

"You love him, Chris, be there for him."

"You love me, be here for me." Chris throws my words immediately back in my face.

I hang my head and let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Maybe it's not enough anymore."

Chris's eyes squint on me like he's confused, processing what I've just said.
"What's not?"

"I'd do anything for you, Chris, but you never need me to. I can't give you anything, not even a child."

"We can keep trying, Morgan-"

I roll my shoulders. "It's not the same. I keep thinking if I love you harder, it'll fix you - us. But nothing will, shit just keeps happening and it's out of my control. If love doesn't mean anything, then why bother?"

"Morgan, what are you talking about? Where is this coming from?"

"I told you: it's not enough, nothing changes, not because of me, anyway. I feel like no matter what we go through, you get what you want at the end of the day and I just end up hurt."

"Morgan, you are the reason I wake up everyday, you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. If the world was ending, I'd look for you, and if I knew for sure we were going to die, I'd hold you until the light left my eyes, you know that. You're my whole world, there's nothing more I want than to see you happy. I'd do anything for you, I don't know how many times I have to say that to you. You can feel how you want and out of respect I'll tell you that it's valid, but I'm not letting you go. I pray everyday that this shit goes away, that you don't so much as break a nail or anyone even looks at you wrong. You saved my life, Morgan, just by showing me what unconditional love is - it's the reason I keep going."

I blink and a tear rolls down my face.

Chris moves through the water to approach me and wipe it away. He's never let a tear pass my chin, always telling me there's no need to cry.

Chris's hand is warm as it cups my cheek.

I lift my eyes open, though, and look deeply into his.

"Still," I utter, "I can't make you choose, but I'm not okay with you having a son, yet."

"You don't have to be. We're a team, but Hayes isn't your business."

"I want to support you, Chris."

He shakes his head. "You already do. Don't worry so much. You love me?"

I only flutter my eyelashes, not responding.

"Do you love me?" Chris asks again, this time with more bass in his voice.

"I believe in you more than I believe in the ocean."

Chris takes my hand. He laughs at me. "What, that doesn't answer the question, we're standing in the ocean."

I nod, walking deeper into the shallows.

Cold water climbs up my legs the deeper I go. It's pulling me in, dancing all around our bodies.

I giggle, spinning in a circle against the current.

A wave crashes into my body.

Once it calms, my fingertips paint the surface.

"You really like the ocean." Chris says with a chuckle.

"It's beautiful, actually. I spent a lot of my life afraid, not understanding it. I thought it did more bad than good, but it's not the ocean's fault."

I look up from the water and see Chris's eyes on me.

I splash him. "Wanna play mermaids?"

Chris laughs. "You didn't answer the question."

I bat my eyelashes and then look up at him through them.
"I did," I tell him, "I do."

"Ask me what I believe." Chris says, splashing around in the water.

He starts chasing me and I run as best I can in the waist deep water, scream-laughing.

Chris catches me and lifts me in his arms. He throws me into the water, over and over until I've had enough.

Heading back towards the shore, Chris stops and stares as the sun goes down.

"Ask me." Chris repeats, reaching for me.

I latch onto him from behind, kissing his salty back.

My heart beating out of my chest, I gulp hard.

Then I ask, "What do you believe in?"

"Us." Is his answer.

Oddly, I expected that response, yet it still made me feel warm inside.

"You and me, existing just like this forever. Right now, nothing else matters. I like it this way. I believe in the way you love me. I know you said it can't, but you've healed me so much."

I remain quiet, just letting Chris's words marinate, and what lovely words they are. Even better, he knows one of my love languages is words of affirmation. My constant need for reassurance isn't laced in insecurity, I just get so lost with everything that happens, but I'm sure now.

"Chris." I finally speak up.

Seagulls fly overhead, heading in for the evening after terrorizing tourists for their boardwalk fries and other beach snacks.

Golden hour is gone, the sky has shifted to a hazy blue color in a final act before the moon makes its grand appearance.

I look off in the distance where the sun had set and can no longer distinguish between where the water ends and sky begins, it all blends together in one shade of cerulean.

I squeeze Chris even tighter, not wanting to ever let go.

"I love you," I whisper, "so much."

Chris caresses my hand. He takes a deep breath in and then exhales just as much.

"I love you more than that," he says, "and deeper than the ocean."