Taylor took my bag, tipped our driver, and then used his key card to open the door. Fresh flowery smells filled my nose, and my sandals clicked against the tiled floor. The white linen and light décor was sophisticated but cozy, and directly in front of where we stood was a large sliding glass door, the curtains pulled back to expose the full beauty of the Caribbean Sea.

I dropped my bag. “Oh my God,” I said, my feet carrying me straight for the door.

Taylor beat me there, sliding open the glass.

I stepped out, hearing songbirds and watching the fronds of the palm trees dance with the breeze that were wafting the smells of the ocean to our balcony. The private beach of the Ritz-Carlton was lined with beach loungers, umbrellas, Hobie Cats, and paddleboats. An impressive sailboat was docked not two hundred yards from swimmers, white paint proudly marking its name, Lady Lyndsey.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything this beautiful before in person,” I said, shaking my head in awe.

“I have,” Taylor said.

From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me. I turned to him, letting his milk-chocolate eyes take in every detail of my face.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried. For several days.”

“I told you I’d come. You bought the ticket. I wasn’t going to stand you up.”

“After the other night—”

“You drunk-texted me. There are worse things—like torture, for instance.”

A crease formed between his brows. “It’s been a long week. I think I fell in love with you more every day. I guess there’s some truth to that saying.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Yeah, and so does thinking you’ve lost the woman you’re crazy in love with. When I was alone and even when I wasn’t, I said some pretty awful things about you in my head, Falyn. I take them all back.”

I wondered what his crew and even his brother must think about me. I could only imagine what he’d said out of frustration.

“I didn’t dump you. We took a break, so you could think about something important.”

He blinked. “So … we weren’t … we’re still together,” he said more to himself than a question. All the color drained from his face, and he backed away from me, sitting down hard in a wicker chair.

“I wasn’t clear. Either way, it wasn’t fair. It was stupid and cruel, and … I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You don’t apologize. You definitely shouldn’t apologize for this.”

I sat next to him. “What I did was shitty, no matter my line of thinking or my intentions. I’m just lucky you love me and that you’re more patient than you let on.”