We'll Always Have Summer (Summer #3)

We'll Always Have Summer (Summer #3) Page 45

It was too hot. I couldn’t sleep. I’d kick the covers off and flip my pillow over to cool off, but it didn’t help. I kept looking at the alarm clock. One o’clock, two o’clock.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I threw off my sheets and put on my bathing suit. I didn’t turn on any lights, I just found my way downstairs in the darkness.

The moonlight was enough to guide me. Everyone else was asleep.

I made my way outside, down to the pool. I dove in, held my breath for as long as I could. I could already feel my bones start to relax. When I came back up for air, I floated on my back and looked up at the sky. The stars were out. I loved how quiet it was, how still. The only thing I could hear was the ocean lapping against the sand.

Tomorrow I would become Isabel Fisher. It was what I always wanted, my girlhood dream come true a thousand times over. And I’d wrecked it. Or rather, I was about to wreck it. I had to tell the truth. I couldn’t marry Jeremiah tomorrow like this, not with a secret that big between us.

I climbed out of the pool, put the towel around me, and went inside the house, up to Jeremiah’s room. He was asleep, but I shook him awake. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

Water from my hair dripped onto his pillow, onto his face.

Groggily, he said, “Isn’t it bad luck?”

“I don’t care.”

Jeremiah sat up, wiping his cheeks. “What’s up?”

“Let’s talk outside,” I said.

We went down to the porch and sat on a lounge chair.

Without preamble, I said, quietly, “Last night Conrad told me he still has feelings for me.”

I could feel Jeremiah’s body go rigid beside me. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I went on.

“Of course I told him I didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to tell you sooner, but then I thought it would be a mistake, that I should keep it to myself—”

“I’m going to kill him,” he said, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth shocked me. He stood up.

I tried to pull him back down next to me, but he resisted. I pleaded, “Jere, no. Don’t. Please just sit here and talk to me.”

“Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m—I’m not. I’m not.”

He looked down at me. “Are you marrying me to erase him?”

“No,” I said, and it came out more like a gasp. “No.”

“The thing is, Bells, I don’t believe you,” Jeremiah said, and his voice was strangely flat. “I see the way you look at him. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me like that.

Not even once.”

I jumped up and grabbed at his hands desperately, but he pulled away. I was breathing hard when I said, “That’s not true, Jere. It’s not true at all. What I feel for him is all memories. That’s it. It has nothing to do with us. All that’s in the past. Can’t we just forget the past and make our own future? Just the two of us?”

Levelly, he said, “Is it the past? I know you saw him over Christmas. I know you guys were together here.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Say something. Go ahead, try to deny it.”

“Nothing happened between us, Jere. I promise you. I didn’t even know he was gonna be here. The only reason I didn’t tell you was—” What was it? Why didn’t I tell 256 · jenny han

him? Why couldn’t I think of a reason? “I didn’t want you to be upset over nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would have told me about it.

Instead you kept it a secret. After all that stuff you said to me about trust, you kept that to yourself. I felt like shit for what I did with Lacie, and you and I weren’t even together when it happened.”

I felt sick inside. “How long have you known?”

“Does it matter?” he snapped.

“Yes, to me it does.”

Jeremiah started to back away from me. “I’ve known since it happened. Conrad mentioned he saw you, he thought I already knew. So of course I had to play it off like I did. Do you know how stupid I felt?”

“I can imagine,” I whisper.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked him. We were standing only five or six feet away from each other, but it felt like miles. It was his eyes. They were so distant.

“I was waiting for you to tell me. And you never did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I was wrong.” It was stupid. My heart was beating so fast. “I love you. We’re getting married tomorrow. Me and you, right?”

When he didn’t answer me, I asked again. “Aren’t we?”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he said at last. “I need to think.”

“Can I come with you?”

This time the answer came swiftly, and it was devastat-ing. “No,” he said.

He left, and I didn’t try to follow him. I just sank onto the steps. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel my body.

Was this happening? Was this real? It didn’t feel real.

Chapter Fifty-three

Somewhere outside, a goldfinch was singing. Or maybe it was a song sparrow. My dad had tried to teach me the different kinds of bird songs, but I couldn’t quite remember.

The sky was gray. It wasn’t raining yet. But any minute now, it was going to pour. It was like any other morning in Cousins Beach. Except it wasn’t, because I was getting married.

I was reasonably sure I was getting married. The only thing was, I had no idea where Jeremiah had gone or if he was even coming back.

I was sitting at the vanity mirror in my pink bathrobe, trying to curl my hair. Taylor was at the beauty salon, and she’d tried to persuade me to get mine done there too, but I’d said no. The only time I ever got my hair done, I hated the way it looked. Like a beauty pageant contestant, stiff and high. I didn’t look like me. I thought that today of all days, I should look like me.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said, trying to fix a curl that had already gone limp.

The door opened. It was my mother. She was already dressed. She was wearing a suit jacket and linen pants and was carrying a lemon yellow envelope. I recognized it right away: Susannah’s personal stationery. It was so like her. I wished I was worthy of it. It hurt to think that I had let her down like this. What would she say if she knew?

My mother closed the door behind her. “Do you want me to help?” she asked.