Page 89 of Chasing Sunsets

Outside, Sandcastle Cove is alive—the sound of laughter and music floating from the beach, the distant hum of waves rolling against the shore. Tonight should be fun. Dinner with the girls, a few too many cocktails, maybe some bad karaoke. A night of normalcy.

A night where I don’t have to think about my past.

There’s a knock at the door.

I smile, reaching for my purse as I stride across the small space. “You’re early,” I call, expecting Eden on the other side. “I’m almost ready, just need shoes.”

I swing the door open.

And my world tilts.

It’s not Eden.

It’s my parents.

And Quenton.

For a second, I can’t breathe. The blood drains from my body so fast that I feel lightheaded. I grip the edge of the doorframe to steady myself, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Tabitha,” my mother says, her voice cool and composed, like we’re sitting down for brunch and not standing at my tiny, restored RV in the middle of an old campground, “it’s time to come home.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My father stands beside her, his expression unreadable, his sharp eyes scanning my face, my clothes, the RV. He doesn’t look angry. He looks confused.

And then there’s Quenton.

He’s as polished as ever, all crisp lines and expensive cologne, his deep brown eyes locked on to mine with an intensity that makes my stomach churn. He looks … the same. Untouched by time, untouched by the wreckage I left behind in Boston.

I am not the same.

I left. I ran. I disappeared with nothing, leaving behind only a note—a rushed explanation scrawled on my mother’s fancy stationery that couldn’t possibly capture the years of suffocation, the weight of expectations I could no longer carry.

That was almost nine months ago, but it feels like another lifetime.

And now, they’re here.

“Tabitha?” my mother prompts when I don’t speak.

I force myself to swallow, to unclench my fingers from the doorframe. “How … how did you find me?”

My father exhales, shaking his head. “Really, Tabitha? You drop out of law school, run off with some boy, disappear without a word, and think we wouldn’t look for you?”

Guilt knots in my stomach. “I left a note.”

My mother’s lips press into a thin line. “A note.” She lets out a sharp breath, adjusting her designer handbag on her arm. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through?”

I don’t answer. I can’t.

“And now, you stand there, looking at us like we’re strangers, and you’re angry we came to rescue you.”

Quenton steps forward then, his voice softer. “Now, now, Rosemary. Let’s not lose our heads. I’m sure Tabitha is happy to see us. We should go inside. Talk.”

I snap out of my frozen state, shaking my head quickly. “No,” I say. “You’re not coming inside.”

My mother blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“I—” I take a deep breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions in my chest. “You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s time to come home like I’m some lost dog.”

“Tabitha—”

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