Cory pulled a phone out of his pocket and raised it up.
Lauren curled her finger inside the fish’s mouth, earning another mark of respect from me, as she lifted it beside her face and smiled like she seriously had won The Miss America trophy. She could. Easily. But, she was out here fishing instead.
I chuckled as the light flashed.
“What’s so funny back there, Carter?” Lauren asked.
“Nothing. Just wasn’t really expecting this.”
“Nope,” Cory said.
Cradling the bass gently in her hands, Lauren whispered something to the fish then lowered it beneath the water’s surface, right way up and head facing away from the boat. Her lamplight reflected off its silvery scales as it darted into the depths.
“Do you tell all the fish your secrets?”
“Just the special ones.”
“The special ones?” I whispered, snort-laughing, and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to hold in the amusement. “Who decided there were special fish in the world?” A roar of laughter escaped my mouth, ringing across the lake. Dang it felt good to laugh again.
“Cory—” Lauren’s jaw dropped on a gasp, “—he’s breaking your silence rule.”
Cory growled. Yeah, straight up growled, and started reeling his line in, like his cast was destroyed because of my laugh. Which made me laugh more. Man. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed this hard.
“The special ones,” I squeaked, eyes watering.
“What?” She stuck her hand on her hip again, her bracelets back to clinking. “You can’t go around telling every fish your secrets.”
“No, the whole lake would be talking. And Cory would die.”
“Right? They’d have to find him a new specialty.”
She shot me a winning smile.
Who was this girl? She’d made me laugh, and straight from the gut. I hadn’t done that since . . . I couldn’t remember. And that hard tightness in my chest, the me missing Megs part—had eased some.
Megs, I’m sorry. It’s just nice laughing again.
And just like that my laughter cut off and my face dropped back to its familiar neutral expression. Lauren’s smile faded away, her dark brows drawing together.
I sighed, shifting my eyes from Cory’s cutthroat glare.
Lauren flicked her three-quarters lure out again. Her pole clicked against the bow as she rested it there, but her line buzzed the second she set it down.
“No way,” Cory muttered under his breath.
“Fish on, girl,” I said as she reeled in another monster.
I watched in amazement as she repeated the process two more times before either me or Cory caught one. Every time, she whispered another secret before gently releasing her fish and watching it swim away. It didn’t seem so funny anymore. Something about Lauren seemed pained.
I recognized her hair then—the long thick black waves. She was the same girl I saw sobbing on the Adirondack chair earlier. Her sadness called to mine, somehow. What secrets could she be whispering to those fish all night? I wanted to know. Actually, I didn’t just want to know her secrets, a small part of me wanted to get to know her. She seemed like someone I could talk to. Maybe even someone I could . . . I slapped that thought down before it could finish and a hot rush of guilt filled my chest. How could I even think about moving on with my life when Megan was gone—because of me?
I’m so sorry, Megs. I still love you. Just you, Baby.
Man, I might’ve come here for Mom and Dad, to get my head on straight, and maybe to try and get right with God. But, I could never, no—I would never—stop loving Megan. As far as I was concerned, there’d never be another woman in my life again.
Turning away from Lauren, I focused on fishing. An hour passed in complete silence, except for the plop of our lures and the whir of the reels as we wound the lines back in.
“Ready to head back?” Cory said, breaking his silence.
I put my fishing rod away and reached for the oar. “Sure thing, man.”
Lauren set her rod down too and settled back into her seat.
“Where’d you learn to fish?” I heard myself asking as Cory and I paddled back toward the shore.
Innocent conversation never hurt anyone, and I was sure Megs would want me to be polite.
Lauren sighed. “When I was little, my dad used to take me almost every weekend in the summer. My sister hated it, so it was kind of like our thing.”
“Did he tell the fish his secrets, too?”
“No.” She grinned. “That part’s all me.”
“He doesn’t take you now that you’re older, or what?”
She shook her head. “He’s military. Stationed in Texas.”
The air thinned. “You’re a military brat?”
“Ha.” She narrowed her gaze. “I never really liked that term.”
“It is kind of dumb.” I scratched my cheek one-handed and kept paddling with the other. “What branch is he?”
“Air force.”
“A stewardess, huh?”
She frowned. “What?”
I grinned. “That’s what we called them.”
“We?”
“I’m a marine.”
She studied me for a second, something shifting in her eyes. “You’re military?”
“Was,” I corrected, banging my prosthetic hollowly at the bottom of the boat.
She glanced down and, to her credit, didn’t ask how it happened. “Oh. How long were you in?”
“Four years.”
“Thanks for your service.” She offered me another addicting smile and it was like a soothing balm. I wanted to make her smile again. “I know the sacrifice it takes.”
“It was an honor.” A familiar weight sank in my chest, the night growing darker around us. I’d never intended to quit.
Cory guided us to shore, and the second the boat tapped the dock, Lauren was on her feet.
“Amazing meeting you, Carter. Cory, thanks for the tour. See you guys around. Bye.”
“Bye,” was all I managed before Lauren disappeared up the path, and I doubted she even heard me.
Two
-LAUREN-
The rest of the weekend was just blah, and by the time my lunch break rolled around on Monday, my head was pounding. I left the coffee shop in pain, so hungry I felt like throwing up. I just needed an actual meal.
Today’s weather was just as
