Chapter 33

33

KANNON

“ M erritt, please,” I muttered.

“No. I brought you here. This is on me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not poor.”

“I never said you were.”

“But you don’t think I can pay for our dinner?”

I sighed. This wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go. “It’s not about that, Merritt. It’s just I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Kannon, when was the last time someone did something nice for you without expecting anything in return?”

That question stopped me in my tracks. Honestly, I couldn’t remember. I did a great job keeping everyone at arm’s length. It was safer that way. Easier.

The waiter returned with her card and receipt to sign. We left the restaurant and she drove us back to her apartment, but instead of going up she paused and looked at me with a very familiar expression.

“What?” I asked. “I know that look. You have something up your sleeve.”

She laughed. “Nothing illegal. Would you like to take a walk on the beach? It’s a beautiful night.”

“Of course,” I said. “That sounds like a great plan.”

She led me down a path and there it was. I paused for a moment to take it all in.

The beach stretched out in front of us. The sound of waves gently crashing against the shore was rhythmic, soothing. Sand shifted under my boots as we walked. The cool sea air filled my lungs.

“I love it here,” Merritt said softly, almost as though she was afraid to break the magic of the moment. “It’s always been a place of reflection for me.”

“This all feels very cliche,” I said.

“What?”

“Dinner and then a moonlit walk on the beach.”

“Shut up and enjoy it. Views like this don’t exist back home.”

“True,” I admitted, though I wasn’t looking at the water. My eyes stayed on her. The way her lips curved as she took a deep breath, the way the moonlight bounced off her hair. She was the view.

Up ahead, a family played in the surf—four kids, all under the age of seven by the looks of it. The dad was holding one of the older kids, spinning him in circles while the little boy squealed with delight. He darted toward the water and splashed in, just up to his knees, before racing back up the sand to chase the others. The mom laughed as she scooped up the littlest one, pretending to shield her from her husband’s playful antics. The scene was pure chaos and joy.

“Did you and Leah talk about having kids?” Merritt asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

I blinked, her question catching me completely off guard. “We did.”

“And?”

“And?” I repeated, unsure where she was going with this.

“Did you want them?” she pressed.

I let out a long breath and shook my head. “No. Not really. But Leah did.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets, looking away. “It was one of the things that tore us apart, if I’m being honest.”

Merritt didn’t say anything, just kept walking beside me, waiting for me to continue.

“Your dad,” I started, glancing down at her. “He called me a fool for not wanting kids.”

Her head tilted, and she gave me a soft, questioning look. “He said that?”

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a dry chuckle. “We were talking one day about a fight Leah and I had over it. He told me I didn’t understand what I’d be missing out on. That being a dad was the greatest honor and privilege of his life.”

I stopped walking, looking out at the ocean as I spoke. “He told me about the first time he saw you. The way your little hand wrapped around his finger. He even told me about your first diaper change. Said it was a disaster but a precious memory nonetheless.”

I glanced back at her, expecting to see a smile. Instead, she was crumbling. Tears streamed down her face and her lip quivered as she tried to hold it together.

“Oh shit,” I muttered, stepping closer to her. “Merritt, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

She shook her head, trying to brush her tears away, but they just kept coming. “It’s not you. It’s me. I—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her face, taking a shaky breath before letting it all spill out. “I know I let him down, Kannon. And it kills me to think he was talking about me like that—how much he loved me—when I wasn’t even making the time to see him.”

“He knew you loved him,” I said, hoping it would give her some comfort.

“I knew he was struggling. I knew he needed me. But I kept my head down, kept grinding at work, convincing myself I’d make it back to him soon. I made excuses. I had to work to keep paying for the home for him. I always planned to visit this weekend or that weekend. Every time, something came up or I would make up some excuse that kept me from going. And then—” She let out a small, broken sound that tore through me. “And then the years passed, and poof. He was gone. Just like that. And I… I didn’t do enough. I didn’t rise to the occasion.”

Her sobs shook her shoulders. All I could do was pull her close. I cupped her face in my hands, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. “Hey. Hey,” I said softly, trying to steady her. “You were a wonderful daughter, Merritt.”

She shook her head, choking on a sob. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You were,” I insisted, my voice firm. “Gary adored you. He wouldn’t have talked about you the way he did if he didn’t believe that. He was proud of you—not for your drive or your work ethic, but for your heart. Because it’s a good one. You’re good, Merritt. Like him. To your core.”

Her hands trembled as she clutched the front of my shirt, holding on like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

“Life’s unfair as hell sometimes,” I went on, my throat tightening. “But you didn’t do anything wrong by living yours. You didn’t. Busting your ass for what you wanted doesn’t make you a bad daughter. Like I said, he was so proud of you.”

She shook her head again, tears still falling. “But I don’t think I was going after what I wanted, Kannon. I think I was playing it safe.”

I frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “Then what did you want?”

She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting the moonlight and so much pain it nearly knocked the air out of me.

“You,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I wanted you.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. The only thing I could do was stare into those tear-filled eyes and wonder how the hell I had ever let her go in the first place.

I felt a pang deep in my chest, as if each word she spoke reverberated through my very bones.

“I wish one of us would have had the balls to say something back then,” I said with a sigh.

She shook her head. “I don’t know if that would have changed anything. We were young and dumb and both of us were pretty damn stubborn.”

I chuckled. “All true.”

We continued walking toward lights and a lot of activity. I could see street vendors selling trinkets and various food. She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to one of the stands. Colorful glass bottles and seashells were all lined up. She picked up one and turned it this way and that.

“Handmade.” The vendor beamed, a toothy grin spreading on his wrinkled face under his broad hat. “Old soda bottles, sea glass, anything I can find on the beach. I gather them, clean them, and then transform them into these.”

Merritt held the bottle up to the pale lamplight. The play of colors on her face made her look ethereal. Her fingers traced the smooth contours of the bottle before putting it back on the stand. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

I stood there, watching her as she carefully examined each piece. Her movements were slow and thoughtful, as though she was taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of each item before moving on to the next.

Finally, after a few more minutes of browsing, she found the one.

“I want this one,” she said, smiling. “This is perfect.”

The vendor looked like she just made his whole day. She handed it over to him and he wrapped it in brown paper and tied a string around it. She handed him a twenty from her purse. The man thanked her, with his broad smile never leaving his face.

We meandered through the boardwalk and stopped to get two churros.

We found a seat on a worn wooden bench. The sound of the sea crashing against the shore filled the silence between us. A guy was busking down the way. His soft guitar was nearly drowned out by the sound of club music bouncing through the area. I took a bite of the churro and nodded. “It’s good,” I said.

“My favorite snack,” Merritt said.

“Do you do the club scene?” I asked. “I know Miami is kind of notorious for it.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No. I’ll admit when I first moved here, I got a fake ID and snuck into a few. When I turned twenty-one, I went more often.”

“But now?” I asked.

Merritt shrugged, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ve outgrown that scene. I’m more into quiet places, cozy nooks where I can sip my coffee and read a book. Mundane things, you could say. What about you? Were you into the club scene in Dallas?”

I laughed. “Definitely not. Riggs’s bar is about as rowdy as it gets for me. After—after I lost Leah, I was done with the bar scene. Riggs’s place is more like hanging out at a friend’s place. It’s not really a bar for me.”

She nodded slowly. “In a way, it’s like we’ve both been through so much. We’ve had to grow up in ways we never expected to.”

Tearing off a piece of churro, she popped it into her mouth. I found myself watching her, completely captivated by the woman she had become. I’d always known there was something special about Merritt. I just hadn’t understood the depth of it until tonight.

She finished her churro, licking the sugar off her fingers with a blissful expression on her face that made me smile. “That was good,” she said. “You know what I want now?”

I know what I want. “Not a clue.”

“A mojito.”

“You want to go to the bar?”

“Hell no. I have a mixer at home. A little rum and it’s perfect.”

I got to my feet and extended my hand to her. “Then let’s go get us a homemade mojito.”

We started the walk back to her building. There were a lot of thoughts running through my mind. For a long time, I thought about coming to visit her. I wanted to see what it was that kept her from me. But now that I was here, I saw it. She built a nice life here and she was happy. That did not make me feel better. But I decided to just enjoy the moment and the time I did have with her.

Temporary as it might be.