Page 21 of Second Dance
I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost eight. Our hummus plate had been demolished. Our glasses of wine were empty. But I didn’t want the night to end. Didn’t want to go back to a world where Alex was just a memory.
“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” The question surprised me even as I asked it. “The sunset’s going to be amazing tonight. Or do you need to get home?”
His eyes never left mine. “I can’t imagine anything I’d like better.”
His gaze held mine, so sincere it made me feel like a drunk bee in a lavender garden.
“We can walk down to the public beach access from here.”
“Let me pay the check, and then we’re out of here.”
I could not believe this was really happening, but I didn’t stop to think about what it all meant. Just that Alex was here, in front of me, and I didn’t want him to be anywhere else.
The restaurant’s deck opened directly onto the beach, so we headed down the weathered wooden steps toward the sand. Alex offered me his hand as we navigated the last step, and I felt that familiar spark when our fingers touched. How was it possible that the attraction was still there after all this time?
“I never tire of how beautiful it is here at sunset.” I slipped off my sandals to feel the warm sand between my toes.
“One of the reasons we fell in love with this place.” Alex rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie slightly. “The kids and I have access to a private beach from our house. We’re very lucky.”
“Is it weird to be so rich?”
“A bit,” Alex said. “But, like everything, it becomes normal.”
We fell into step beside each other, close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed. The breeze carried the salt air, and the rhythmic sound of waves eased any tension I might have felt. Instead, it felt easy to be with Alex. From the first time we’d met, we’d been this way. The opposite of strangers.
“Tell me more about your life,” Alex said. “About Grace.”
“Raising Grace alone has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Those first few years especially. I mean, I was still basically a kid myself.” I glanced at him. “My girlfriends saved me, really. I met them when Grace started kindergarten, and they’ve been looking after me ever since. “
“Good friends are hard to find.”
“I know. I feel very lucky to have them. But there are still moments when I feel like I’ve failed Grace. I’ve done my best, but what if it wasn’t enough?” My voice caught slightly. “Like, I wonder who will walk her down the aisle someday. She doesn’t have a father figure, and sometimes I worry that’s my fault for shutting myself off from the idea of romance.”
Alex stopped walking and turned to face me, his dark eyes serious in the golden light. “You will walk her down the aisle. You’ve earned that right. You’ve been both parents to her.”
The certainty in his voice made my chest tight with emotion. “You’re kind to say so.”
We continued walking, and, after a moment, Alex said quietly, “I worry too about being enough. When we first lost Mattie, I didn’t handle things as well as I should have.”
“What do you mean?”
He picked up a beach rock and tossed it toward the waves. “There were days I couldn’t get out of bed. Days when Maya, our housekeeper in the city, was essentially raising Peter and Bella because I was drowning in my own grief.”
I wanted to reach for his hand, but wasn’t sure if I should.
“The kids have been amazing,” he said. “They’re moving forward, making friends here, getting involved in activities. But I feel stuck. For so long, my work defined me. It gave me purpose. Now I don’t know who I am without it. Most days I’m all alone in that big house, and I think—how will I feel once the kids are gone for good? Then what do I do?”
The vulnerability in his admission made me brave enough to close the distance between us. I touched his arm gently. “I think most parents feel that way. I know I do.”
“Which is why Grace put you on the dating app,” Alex said, chuckling.
“I guess so. The little stinker knows me too well.”
The sun was sinking lower now, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. A gust of wind made me shiver, and, without hesitation, Alex shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around my shoulders. The gesture was so natural, so caring, that it made me tear up. I dipped my chin, afraid he might see the emotion in my eyes.
“Better?” His hands lingered on my shoulders for just a moment longer than necessary.
“Much.” I pulled his jacket closer, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sea air.
