“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?” I took a seat on the white leather cushion.

“Breaking Wind.” He cringed a little at the name. “She came with the name, and it’s bad luck to rename a boat.”

I laughed for a solid five minutes. He joined in after about two.

Gabe produced a white plastic bag I hadn’t noticed before. He must have carried it from the car. There was a brown bag inside, a yellow smiley face on the outside. Gabe noticed me eyeing up the bag and explained, “Chinese. You do like Chinese, don’t you?”

Chinese takeout on a sailboat didn’t sound right, but I nodded anyway. “And what would happen if I told you I didn’t like Chinese?”

“Then I’d say I just found your one flaw.”

I laughed and sat back watching him as the wind blew through his hair. His white windbreaker danced in the breeze as we left the dock and started toward the open water.

“So tell me, Gabriel Monroe. Why does a boy from sunny Florida who loves to sail want to go to New York and become a lawyer?”

Gabe’s eyebrows caved in as he took a moment to think about his answer. “I guess because I want more out of life than my parents were able to give me. They struggled, a lot. I don’t want that for my future family.”

Family. You never heard a guy talk about family. It was usually taboo.

“Why New York?”

“I got into NYU Law. Figured I go there for a few years and then head back home.” He turned his gaze from the ocean and back to me. “But I met this great girl from there so, if all goes well, I might stick around.”

I loved that he was already thinking of a future with me. I crawled over to him and took a seat beside him. Gabe’s arm swung around my back and he pulled me in.

“I’d like that.” I kissed him on the neck. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, twenty questions. Me first. Favorite food?” he asked with his fingers twirling in my hair.

“Pizza. My turn. Favorite candy?”

“You.” He smiled and placed a tender kiss on my lips. “And Skittles. Favorite movie?”

“Field of Dreams.” It was my dad’s favorite.

“Me too! That and Braveheart. It’s a guy thing.”

It was his turn to ask a question again. “Worst trait?”

I had to think on that for a second. “Being complacent. When I get mad, I do this weird breathing thing. It works, but sometimes I worry I let things that bother me roll off my shoulders too easily. I wish I were more headstrong. Like you.”

Gabe laughed and shook his head. “That’s not your tell.”

I sat back and squinted my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I can always tell when you’re angry or embarrassed or confused or, better yet, turned on…”

I hit his side. “Okay, I get it. I have a tell. What is it?”

Gabe raised a hand and messaged my earlobe. “Your ears turn red. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Your ears turn various shades from this adorable pink to neon red. They give away every emotion you have.”

“What color are they now?”

“Pink. But I bet you I can make them turn red.” His Robert Redford grin crept across his face.

“You’re gonna try and get me mad?”

“I hope not.”

“Well, then, go ahead.”

Gabe brushed a piece of hair behind my ear and slowly stroked it with his thumb. His eyes looked straight into my soul.

“I love you. From the second I saw you on the steps, I knew you were my forever.”

His words were like poetry in my ears. The beautiful blue-eyed boy with dark wavy hair loved me.

“Your ears are very red, Kat.” Gabe’s eyes searched mine for a response. His brows furrowed and he took a cautious stance, waiting for a reaction.

“They’re also very hot,” I replied.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I love you too.” And I told him so, over and over again, in the confines of a small bed in the galley below.

Sailing in that little boat became a part of our romance. Gabriel even brought it to New York when he started law school. We took a few trips with it on the Long Island Sound, but as his career blossomed, Breaking Wind got neglected. He sold the boat shortly after we were married, and he hasn’t been sailing since.

God, I wish my dad were still alive. I wish I could talk to him just this once and ask him for advice. I want to know if he was as good a man as I thought he was. I want to know if he would have forgiven Gwen for her indiscretions. I want to know how I can right my wrongs.

The problem is I didn’t just wrong Gabriel. I hurt Asher. He trusted me to be his confidant while I held back from him. I let him bare his soul, yet I only gave him a facade of myself. I never let him into my world.

Unfortunately, I let other people into my world. I let Malory in, and look what she did. I don’t know what to do next, but I can’t stand still. I hate running but, for some reason, I feel compelled to move. My feet lift off the ground and I run the perimeter of the harbor until my heels hurt more than my heart, and I head home.

Gabriel’s car is gone when I return. I’m half relieved and half disappointed. I open the door to Gwen holding her finger over her mouth.

“Gabriel put Jackson to sleep before he left.” She places the baby monitor on the counter. I look at the black-and-white screen to see Jackson sleeping with his butt in the air. It’s the sweetest little position.

“Did you tell him he took his first steps?” Gabriel is probably devastated he missed it.

“I did, but I didn’t embellish. Jackson put on a little show for him. He took a few more steps with Gabriel than he has with us. I think he was holding out for his dad.” Gwen stalls for a second to make sure her words don’t hurt me too much.

“He is a daddy’s boy; that’s for sure. I hope he stays that way.” My words assure her. I walk to the fridge and sigh as I open the door.

“Tired, honey?” Gwen asks, still standing by the counter.

“No.” I scan the refrigerator. It’s freshly stocked, yet there’s nothing I want. “The opposite actually. I feel restless. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Gwen walks beside me and closes the refrigerator door. “Why don’t you go to the batting cage? Take a few swings,” she suggests. “It will help get a little aggression out.”

She’s right. I felt good after my run, but I still have more energy in me to burn. I kiss Gwen on the cheek and head to the batting cage.

Imagine my shock to see I’m not the only one who had that idea.

I haven’t seen him look this free in a long time. Black T-shirt, jeans, and an old pair of Jordans. He looks a lot like this guy I once kissed at McCloon’s.

Crack!

I assume he’s picturing that to be my head. I walk toward the fence and stop just behind him. I’m safer behind the fence for more reasons than one.

His back is to me as he keeps his stance for the next ball to be launched. “I take it Gwen had the same great idea for more than one of us,” he says, bracing for his next swing.

Crack!

Oh, Gwen. My mother the meddler. She still hasn’t lost her touch. Gabriel must have seen me pull up.

“I suppose so. I’ll go. You were here first.” I try to appease him when I’m really longing for him to turn around. Please look at me.

Crack!

“No, stay. I’m almost done here,” he says, taking one last swing of the bat. He steps out of the box and removes the helmet. He replaces it with a baseball hat. I haven’t seen him wear one in so long. I smile at the memory. “What are you laughing about?”