I had to know it wasn’t ever going to work out.

Where could Kai and I really go with this relationship, anyway?

How were we going to exist off the beach, inside timber and drywall? He’s a water person, and I’m a woman who grew up in arid conditions. I know water as in faucets, not waterfalls; dammed lakes, not oceans.

Don’t think about him. I get up, top off my coffee. I’m not going to call him or text message. Won’t write or miss him. Won’t. Must erase all thoughts of Kai and his warm chest, his sea-drenched skin, and his aquamarine eyes.

Jessica’s driving me crazy. She’s been home a week now, and she’s up and hobbling around with her cast on her right leg and the cast of her left arm. She’s never gotten as much attention as she has this past week, and it’s just ruining her, turning her into an even bigger pain.

Thank God she goes back to school tomorrow. I don’t think I could handle another day with little miss princess.

I drive Jessica to school the next morning, since she still has the leg cast, exhaling with relief as I turn my car around and drive back home. Jessica’s back in school. It’s early May. Summer’s just around the corner. Everything’s going to be okay.

But I don’t feel okay.

I still miss Kai, and I don’t know how I can miss him this much. I hardly know him. We had what? A total of fifteen days together?

How do you fall in love with a man in fifteen days?

I park in my garage, turn off the engine.

Let it go, Jack.

Accept the facts, Jack.

The garage door slams behind me as I enter the house, and on my way to the kitchen I see the laundry room. Mountains of dirty clothes. How is it possible that there are that many dirty towels and clothes again? Didn’t I just do five loads the day before yesterday?

Bending over, I begin sorting the colors and the whites and making new piles. I come across William’s white grass-stained baseball pants and drop them in the load for bleach, but not before I come across his jock strap with the cup still in it. Wrinkling my nose, I pull out the cup, toss the cup into the sink, and add the jock strap to the whites.

After starting the load of whites, I stand over the washer until it’s time to add bleach. The water’s hot, and it steams up at me.

Maybe surf instructors don’t make a lot of money, but they don’t wear a lot of clothes.

At least with Kai I wouldn’t have to do a lot of laundry.