Chapter 8 (One Step From Falling)
1158 Words
Emma's POV
The breeze danced through my hair as I stepped onto the sun-drenched terrace of our villa, a steaming cup of tea warming my hands. Waves lapped softly against the shoreline, their rhythm strangely calming, like nature’s way of whispering, “Breathe.”
Alexander sat across from me, laptop open, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His expression was unreadable—focused, distant, yet impossibly handsome. I’d spent the morning pretending to sketch, my pad barely touched. My pencil kept freezing mid-line, my thoughts drifting back to the man sitting just a few feet away.
He looked up suddenly, catching me watching him. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice gentle, fingers pausing above his keyboard.
I nodded too quickly. “Yeah, just… soaking it all in.”
He smiled, closing the laptop and setting it aside. “Take a break with me. You’re working harder than I am.”
I laughed under my breath. I drew a palm tree. Half of one.”
“Impressive. I’ve written three emails and deleted all of them.”
We both chuckled, the silence that followed oddly comforting. I sipped my tea, avoiding his gaze, trying not to let the growing ease between us mean more than it should.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You know, you don’t always have to be ‘on.’ This is your escape too.”
That struck something in me. “Is it?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Alexander blinked. “What do you mean?”
I glanced toward the ocean. “I mean, yeah, I’m here." But it didn’t really feel like I’ve escaped anything. Ethan still lives in my head. Rent-free.”
His jaw tightened at the mention of Ethan’s name. “He doesn’t deserve that space.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not. But he’s still there. I guess I’m just trying to figure out how to evict him.”
Alexander let out a slow breath, then stood and walked toward the edge of the terrace. “When someone betrays you like that… it rewires everything. Trust. Memory. Even how you see yourself.”
I looked up at him, surprised by the insight in his voice.
“You’ve been through it?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away. Then, “Not like that. But I’ve been burned.”
I waited for more, but he didn’t elaborate.
Instead, he turned to me with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How about we stop thinking for a bit? Get dressed. We’re going out.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Out where?”
“You’ll see.” He disappeared into the villa before I could protest.
---
Twenty minutes later, I found myself climbing into a speedboat, the salty wind teasing the hem of my sundress. Alexander looked over from the helm, clearly amused by my wide eyes and death grip on the railing.
“You okay there, sailor?” he teased.
“I’m fine,” I lied. Totally fine. "This boat isn’t terrifying at all.”
“You’ve flown in private jets, but a little boat makes you nervous?”
“It’s not little,” I argued. “It’s… enthusiastically mobile.”
Alexander laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to examine.
He slowed the boat as we neared a secluded cove, where jagged rocks met translucent water. The colors shimmered in layers—emerald to teal to deep cobalt. A tiny floating dock bobbed near the shore, and beside it, an anchored jet ski.
“No way,” I said, eyes wide. “We’re not riding that.”
“Oh, we are.” He jumped out first, holding out a hand. “Come on, I promise not to kill us.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Still, I took his hand. The warmth of his palm in mine sent a strange flutter through me.
Minutes later, we were skimming across the water on the jet ski, waves spraying up around us. I clung to Alexander, half terrified, half exhilarated, my laughter lost in the roar of the engine and the wind. He let out a whoop of joy, and I felt it ripple through my spine—pure, reckless joy. Maybe we both needed this.
When he finally slowed down, we drifted near a sandbar, the engine idling. He turned to look at me, his eyes crinkled from the sun and the wind.
“Still alive?” he asked.
“Barely.”
“You were screaming the whole time.”
“Out of excitement.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
I laughed, then sighed. “Okay, that was actually fun.”
He glanced toward the shore. “Want to swim?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
We jumped off the jet ski into the water, and for a while, we just floated there. The sky stretched endlessly above us. The water, impossibly clear, cradled our bodies like silk.
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the clouds.
“It’s beautiful here,” I whispered.
Alexander’s voice was soft beside me. “So are you.”
I turned my head, startled.
He didn’t flinch or take it back. Just looked at me, calm and sure.
My heart thudded.
“Alex…” I began.
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. I didn’t mean to—well, I did. But not to pressure you. I just… wanted you to hear it.
I treaded water, processing. No witty response. No teasing comeback. Just heat rising in my cheeks and confusion churning in my chest.
We swam back in silence.
---
Later that evening, I stood at the edge of the villa’s infinity pool, towel wrapped around me, still feeling the ghost of his compliment lingering like the warmth of the sun.
He was inside on the phone, his voice muffled. I watched him pace, brows furrowed, jaw tight.
When he finally stepped outside, I raised a brow. “Everything okay?”
He nodded, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Work stuff." Always something.”
I didn’t press.
Instead, I gestured toward the sunset. “It’s so… unreal.”
Alexander followed my gaze. The sky was a canvas of molten orange and soft lavender. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Almost too perfect.”
We stood there in silence until he finally spoke again.
“You’re different here,” he said.
I turned to him. “Different how?”
“Softer. Lighter.” He met my eyes. “I like seeing you like this.”
I smiled, unsure what to say.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back,” he
Continued, voice low. “But right now? I’m glad we came. Glad it’s you.”
My throat tightened.
Me too, I thought. But I didn’t say it aloud.
- Writer
