“That’s really what you want?” I asked swiping away a second tear before it escaped my eyelashes. He didn’t answer me, though. He brought his eyes back to the ground and nodded.

The feeling of powerlessness slammed into my chest. He’d already made up his mind, and no amount of encouragement or support was going to change that.

“So what do I become then? What becomes of us?” I feared what he would say next, but I needed to hear it so I could walk away.

“You go back to being Capri, a great girl I hooked up with. And we go back to being acquaintances.” My world shattered. I was now just another one of his girls. I turned around the second the carefully held in tears burst from my eyes and fled doing nothing more than smearing the pain across my soul.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this,” I chanted while lifting the trunk of my car and then peered inside. The oversized canvas portfolio stared back at me, silently mocking how perfectly it fit the space. Before I left, I had a fleeting moment of hope that it wouldn’t fit, but then it did. I took that as a healthy sign that I should, in fact, be here.

“What in James Hatfield’s name is that?” Lennon came up next to me holding a pile of wood.

“That is evidence that the law of attraction is bullshit.” I ducked in and pulled out my portfolio.

“Well damn, I guess I should toss my journals promising myself a lifetime of love and smiles in this fire,” Lennon joked.

“That’s what’s going in the fire?” Kensie slid up on the other side of me, hands carrying grocery bags.

“Its contents, yes.” I stuck my chin out and shoved down the trunk leading our trio out to the fire pit in the sand. For the last week, I’d done the same thing every morning.

First, I ignored the streak of light my ornament dashed across my closet door while I worked on my samples for the hotel. Then, I’d dig into my closet, pull out one painting, and bring it into the light. There I’d sit and stare at it, for what felt like years, though I assumed it was because that was how long I’d been painting these. That was how long he’d occupied every corner of my mind. Only, what once held thoughts of adoration and hope had quickly become pain. I had to get rid of them.

I dropped my portfolio into one of the beach chairs I’d already set up and took the wood from Lennon’s arms, arranging it into the pit.

“So, can we see what’s in there?” I glanced over my shoulder at her in time to catch her lifting up the flap up and peeking inside. I rose to my feet, quickly overtaken by the urge to hide it. “Easy, killa.” Lennon dropped the flap and raised her arms in the air.

“Sorry,” I said holding my hand over my startled chest.

Kensie carefully took a book of matches from one of the bags she brought and held them up to me cautiously awaiting approval. I nodded at her and looked back at the portfolio. I watched the flap rustle in the sea breeze. Tiny pieces of sand attached themselves to it and then blew off into the air. All the while, it stood immobile and inanimate. It was just a portfolio, and inside were just paintings. The memories and the feelings were real.

“You know what?” I said biting on the corner of my lip. “Go ahead.”

Then as quickly as I turned to light the fire, Kensie and Lennon were rifling through my heart. I lit the match and dropped it into the pit waiting for them to recognize him. Three. Two.

“H…o…ly. Shit.” One.

“Say what?” Lennon’s voice followed Kensie’s. I turned slowly to see them pulling out paper heartbeat after paper heartbeat and laying them on the sand. “You weren’t messing with us when you said you’ve always wanted him.” I shook my head and let a giggle slip then another, and another, until I was laughing maniacally in front of an open flame. “And now you’ve just lost it.”

I couldn’t help it. Something about letting other people look through these and see the hopes and fears that had been written on my heart laid out in pigment and water was entirely liberating.

“These are really amazing, Capri,” Kensie said studying each one closely.

“I had no idea you were this talented.” Lennon was no less complimentary, but far more lackadaisical in her viewing.

“Thanks,” I said reaching down and picking up a painting that had skid across the sand to my feet. It was the one of Wes’ marlin. I held it over the fire and watched it illuminate in the light. His tail curled up behind him, and his head thrashed to the side. He was restless.

I retracted the picture, bringing it back toward me within one hand and touched my hip with the other. He was restless until his mermaid rescued him. No part of me thought Wes needed saving, not for one second. He’d proven to be one of the strongest men I’d ever met, but gosh, I wished he’d let me be there for him. Let me help calm his restless heart in the same way he breathed life into mine.

I had tasted the salt before I realized the tears were falling. “Hey.” Kensie came up next to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to do this,” she whispered to me, but I shook my head stubbornly. “These things take time, Capri.” I felt tiny Lennon’s hand reach out and squeeze mine.

I scoffed at that. What things? Broken hearts? Shattered hope? What exactly was expected to come of these over time? I found it hard to imagine that such pain simply faded away. In fact, I was willing to bet the aches only became deeper.

“No, I have to. Look at these.” I waved my hand to the scattering of paintings around us. “This is how much I’ve let him consume me. For years, the only thing I’ve painted was Wes.” I held the marlin over the flame again. “I have to take control of my art, of myself. I don’t want to end up with a carport of Wes.”

“Why the hell would you have a carport?” Lennon reached for the marlin and carefully pulled it from my grasp back away from the flame. “And I’m not letting you burn these. I understand this is a therapeutic exercise in ridding yourself of that oaf you seem to have attached yourself to,” I smirked at her teasing, “but these are phenomenal.”

I let go of her hand and allowed her to pack up my painting back into their portfolio, feeling a sense of relief. Maybe Kensie was right, and I wasn’t ready yet. “What will we do with this now?” I sniffed at pointed at the fire.

“I brought marshmallows.” Kensie gave me a squeeze before letting me loose.

“And chocolate?” I asked.

“Duh.” She smiled and helped Lennon gather the remaining paintings.

“Bluebell. Where you at, old man?” I asked walking into the old trailer, shivering at the amount of shit around. Jesus, look at all those tat magazines on the table. They were just, everywhere.

“Stop organizing my shit.” Blue’s voice rasped down the hallway.

“Come talk to me outside, then. All this stuff makes me sweaty.” I wiped my hand across my forehead.

Blue tossed his hand toward the front door. “Out with you then, ya woman.”

I sat on the front steps waiting for him to come out with me and looked over at my old place. Didn’t seem like Brenda was home today. Not surprising, though. She wasn’t ever home when I lived there, either. Kinda worked in my favor with the ladies.

“Why ain’t you with your lady on your day off,” Blue gruffed, sitting down next to me. Fuck. I fell into my hands.

“I’ve got shit to do,” I told Blue, feeling nauseous. I should have kept my distance from the bachelor party, but I didn’t have it in me. I watched her hiding in the corner of the club and resisted the need to pull her to me. She wasn’t as gorgeous as usual, though. It might seem messed up to say, because she was hot as hell, but she didn’t smile. That smile was so damn pretty.