Page 114 of Before Dawn

Beneath my feet, soft sand. Before me, the ocean stretched into the night, waves shimmering under the moonlight. It was quiet, peaceful, nearly deserted—except for a couple walking hand in hand far down the shore.

I exhaled slowly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re at the beach.”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Night beach. Number six on the bucket list.”

My eyes glistened as I looked around, overwhelmed by the beauty, the gesture—how he always remembered.

“This is perfect,” I whispered, more to myself than to Mikkel.

He took my hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of it. “Let’s find a spot.”

We settled into a sheltered nook near the dunes, hidden by tall grasses. Mikkel spread a blanket, and we lay down, backs flat, legs stretched. The saltyair was refreshing as I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. His warmth, the soft blanket, the cool breeze—it all felt like a dream. The waves lulled me, but then a memory surfaced, sharp and unwanted, shattering the peace.

I was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of a dress I’d picked for a night out with Joshua. A deep shade of yellow, flattering against my skin. I felt beautiful in it.

Until he stepped into the room.

His eyes raked over me, his expression darkening. “What the hell are you wearing?”

I froze, fingers fumbling with the hem. “It’s just a dress.”

“Just a dress?” he scoffed. “Are you trying to embarrass me, or do you like when men stare at you?”

The words hit like a slap, stealing the air from my lungs. Shame burned through me. I wanted to defend myself, to say I’d worn it for him, but the words tangled in my throat.

“You’re not going out like that,” he said, voice hard. “Change.”

So I had. And I’d done it every time after, until I no longer recognized myself in the mirror. Until I believed that no matter what I wore, I’d never be good enough—for him, or anyone.

A shaky breath left me as I forced the memory back into the depths where it belonged.

“Hey.” Mikkel’s voice pulled me back. “Where did you go just now?”

I blinked, refocusing on him. “Just… thinking about something.”

His gaze sharpened. “Joshua?”

I nodded.

Mikkel exhaled, his grip on my hand tightening—not enough to hurt, but enough that I felt it. His frustration. His helplessness. His need to fix what he couldn’t.

“I wish I could take away all the pain he caused you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “But I need you to know that you never have to feel like that again. You never have to change who you are, Red. You’re more than enough.”

Tears welled, but this time, they weren’t from hurt or shame.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, voice soft but unwavering. “I won’t tell you to forget the past because that’s not how this works. But I will tell you that history will never repeat itself.”

I let his words settle over me.

“He always made me feel small,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’d say someone with my body type shouldn’t wear certain things. That I was begging for attention.”

Mikkel stilled, disbelief flashing across his face.“Your body type?”

I nodded, that familiar knot tightening in my stomach.

His fingers dug into my waist, gentle but firm, as his expression darkened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” His voice was low, rough with conviction. “Your body type?” He scoffed. “People pay millions for what you have, and don’t even get me started on your thighs—because I’d bury myself there if I could.”

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