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The sand feels cool against my skin, damp from the tide that keeps pulling in and out like it can’t make up its mind if it should stay or not. Bright stars cover the sky, it’s the kind of night that should bring peace, but it doesn’t. Not for me. The waves sound restless and loud, like my thoughts.
I keep replaying Conrad’s words over and over, as if the ocean carried them back to me each time it broke on the shore. Don’t marry him. Be with me. Why would he say that? Why exactly now, after four years of silence? And most importantly, how could he do this to his own brother? Still being in love with your brother’s fiancée is one thing, but admitting it two days before the wedding and actively trying to stop it is just disgusting. I mean he went to Stanford of course he knows what could be the outcome of his statement. A heartbroken brother, a destroyed engagement, a shattered family and a whole lot drama.
I almost laugh, except it isn’t funny, it’s selfish. So incredibly selfish. It’s like he can’t stand seeing me happy, and every time in my life when I’m finally ready to take the next step without him, tornado Conrad comes again, spins everything around, and leaves me in the wreckage.
Jeremiah and I have built something steady and real over all these years, and it’s based on something Conrad and I never had—our lifelong friendship. We were always the two younger siblings, not “cool” enough to hang out with the others, but we didn’t want to anyway. We had our own little world where anything was possible. Even ESP. Every summer from the first day to the last in Cousins, we were inseparable. Searching for sand crabs, swimming, sneaking into each other’s rooms for sleepovers, practicing ESP, and movie marathons were just a few things we did. And the smiles never once left our faces.
Because of our friendship we learned to be able to understand each other in a way no one else ever could. We know exactly how to cheer each other up, when to stop joking and be serious, when the other one needs comfort, laughter, or simply a hand to hold. We know how to fight and make up, how to read each other’s silences and how to hold on. We have something that doesn’t shake when the wind changes, something that doesn’t crumble when emotions run high. Something incredibly rare.
I meant every single word I said to Conrad earlier on the beach, because he will never be what Jeremiah is to me. He could never treat me the way his brother does. Not in a million years. So why am I still sitting here in the sand, crying and overthinking every decision I’ve ever made in my life? Maybe it’s not Conrad’s words themselves, but the timing. Two days before my wedding, when everything should feel certain and calm, suddenly doubt sneaks in like an uninvited guest.
It’s not that I don’t love Jeremiah—it’s that Conrad’s words force me to confront every “what if” I’ve ever ignored, every fleeting thought I pushed aside, every tiny insecurity I tried to bury.
Is this marriage really what I want, or is there still a small part of my younger self that won’t be satisfied with anyone other than Conrad? It feels like I chained myself to him years ago, and now, no matter how hard I try to get free, he doesn’t let me go. Would he really put everything on the line and confess two days before my wedding for nothing? Is he right—do I not see something he sees clearly? Am I making a mistake by doing all this?
The cold wind whips my hair around and makes me shiver. After all these years, I finally ask myself what it really was that kept me obsessing over him. Was it because he couldn’t communicate, because he was always closed off? Because he’d hurt me and then try to make up for it with little gestures like Junior Mints and that glass unicorn? I laugh at the thouth of it. Is it true that people who play hard to get seem more attractive? I know he was my first love, but why would his words confuse me so much right now? He doesn’t even know me anymore. And I don’t know him either, because we’ve barely seen each other in four years.
At least I know now why he always avoided me. Because he “still” loves me. I frown at that thought, because had he ever really said those three words to me?
And now, of all times, he has the audacity to try and manipulate me again. After everything, he thinks he can just say that and I’ll… what? Call everything off? Run back to him like nothing ever happened? No. He doesn’t get to do that.
I’m tired of being treated like I’m Conrad Fisher’s property, because secretly he, and everyone else, believes that all he has to do is call out to me, pay a little attention, and I’m his again. And in the past, that might’ve been true. I would have collapsed with joy if he’d said something like this to me back then. But now I only feel disgust, anger and despair. Why am I like this? Why do I always sabotage everything good in my life?
Still crying, I hug my knees to my chest, staring out at the restless waves. And then it hits me, the truth I’ve been running from. This isn’t really about Conrad. It’s about me. It’s easier for me to think about Conrad than to face the life I’m about to step into with Jeremiah. Turning to him,even just in my mind, feels like a safety net, a way to avoid the responsibility of being a wife, of making choices that are permanent and real. And that’s it. All this longing, all this fixation, isn’t really about Conrad at all. It’s me, secretly sabotaging myself, clinging to the idea of a “great love” because that’s way easier than always living with the fear of loosing Jeremiah-the most important person in my life. The realest love I’ve ever felt.
I wouldn’t trade the feeling of being loved by Jeremiah Fisher for anything in the world. Never. His love was always there, constant, steady, and without a single doubt.
Jeremiah’s love feels like the sun, it rises every day, no matter what storms roll in, no matter how heavy the clouds. It waits patiently until I see it again, until I let it warm me. His love is steady like the tide, pulling me back to shore every time I drift too far. With him, I don’t have to question if I’m enough, or if I’ll be left behind. He never wavers, never hides, never makes me feel like love is a puzzle I have to solve.
With Jeremiah, love is laughter spilling out of nowhere, hands that always reach for mine first, comfort I didn’t even know I needed. He’s the kind of love that doesn’t demand to be chased or proven, it’s given naturally. Solid, undeniable, endless. Maybe that’s why it scares me. Because I’ve never known something so simple. So true.
But do I even deserve him by now? A good fiancée wouldn’t let her mind replay words that should mean nothing, wouldn’t let herself doubt because of them. And yet here I am, doubting. Not doubting him, never him, but doubting myself. My ability to give him what he gives me so effortlessly: loyalty without hesitation, love without conditions, faith without cracks. Will I ever be able to let go of the ghost of Conrad Fisher that haunts me whenever my life finally feels good?
My mind is clear, I want to feel the love that I only receive from one person. My Jeremiah. But after today, I wonder if I’ve ever truly deserved it in the first place. The endless dates he planned. The massages when I was on my period. Every time he bought me my favorite snacks and flowers just because. The way he never left my side when I had my knee injury, even when I was so rude to him. The way he makes me laugh until my stomach hurts when I’m crying. How he always lets me choose what to watch on movie nights. How he never lets me go to bed angry, no matter how stubborn I am. How he drives thirty extra minutes just to see me for five. How he pulls me closer in his sleep, like even in his dreams he doesn’t want to let me go.
Nobody deserves this man who is so full of love. Least of all me. But I can’t let him go. I wouldn’t survive it. I want to step into the future with my soulmate, Jeremiah Fisher. I want everything with him, even if it means I have to stop sabotaging myself and finally fall into reality.
One thing is absolutely clear: I want to deserve him. I want to give back everything he gives me, as his wife. I want to do right by him, because so many people in his life haven’t, they’ve let him down. I won’t be one of them. I’ll pour everything I have into this marriage and make sure he knows, every single day, how lucky I am to have him.
I wipe my face with the back of my hand, but the tears cling stubbornly, like they don’t want to let go. The ocean roars, wild and restless, but I suddenly feel tired of matching its chaos. My legs are stiff as I push myself up from the sand, brushing it off my dress. For the first time tonight, I turn my back on the waves. It feels small, almost silly, but it’s like choosing not to drown in what’s already tried to pull me under. The house lights glow faintly in the distance, warm and steady, like Jeremiah. Every shaky step toward them feels lighter, as if I’m walking out of someone else’s story and back into my own.
With puffy eyes I walk up to Jeremiah’s door. As I open it, I see him knocked out on his bed. He probably drank too much, he always had trouble knowing when to stop. The sight makes a small smile tug at my lips. As much as I want to let him sleep I need to talk to him and I need to feel his warm body on mine.
“Jere,” I whisper, trying to nudge him to the side because he’s taken over the whole bed.
“Jere, please wake up. I need to talk to you.”
“Belly?” he mumbles, opening one eye before turning toward me. Then his eyes widen. “Did you cry? Is everything okay?”
Without answering, I slip beside him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says softly, before realization flickers across his face. “I didn’t come to the beach. I’m sorry, I drank too much and—”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him with a small smile. We just lie there, gently touching, holding each other for comfort, until I finally speak what’s been weighing on me.
“I would choose you, every single time, in every version of my life.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, confused. I know it because of that wrinkle on his forehead he always gets.
“Please, just let me say this.” I pause, praying he understands how badly I need to. “I often get scared that I don’t deserve the endless love you give me. But I will,day by day, as your wife and as your best friend, do everything I can to deserve it. To be worth it.”
He gently cups my cheek. “You already are everything I want.”
“But I’m not everything I want to be. Not yet. But I will be, I promise. For us. For me.”
He smiles at me, that big smile that reaches his eyes. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
“I can’t wait either.” And I mean it, because from now on, I’m done hiding from reality. I’m ready to live it. To enjoy every second with the love of my life.
He drifts back to sleep quickly, the alcohol still heavy in his system, while I just lie there and watch him like I always have. Studying his face, memorizing every detail the way I’ve done since we were kids, brings me peace. I didn’t want to see a mark on his face and not know how it got there. I wanted to be with him His was the face I loved.
I won’t tell him about Conrad’s confession on the beach. It would hurt him too much, rip open wounds that have only just healed. He deserves to be happy, especially now that he and his brother finally have a better relationship. Conrad won’t say anything, and I won’t let it reach him.
My decision is clear now. It was always clear, but I refused to wear glasses for so long that it was all blurry. Now I’m freeing myself from this self sabotage and suddenly I see everything crystal clear. It could have always been like that, but I stood myself in the way for too long. I know who I want. I choose Jeremiah. In two days we’ll get married, and from then on, our life together begins. And every day after, we’ll choose each other all over again.